The idea amused Jo, who liked to do daring things and was always scandalizing Meg by her queer performances. And when the snowy afternoon came, Jo resolved to try what could be done. She saw Mr. Lawrence drive off, and then went to dig her way down to the hedge, where she paused and took a survey. All quiet, curtains down at the lower windows, servants out of sight, and nothing human visible but a curly black head leaning on a thin hand at the upper window.
“There he is,” thought Jo, “Poor boy! All alone. It's a shame! I'll toss up a snowball and make him look out, and then say a kind word to him.”
Up went a handful of soft snow, and the head turned at once, showing a face which lost its listless look in a minute, as the big eyes brightened and the mouth began to smile. Jo nodded and laughed, and flourished her broom as she called out…
“How do you do? Are you sick?”
Laurie opened the window, and croaked out as hoarsely as a raven…
“Better, thank you. I've had a bad cold, and been shut up a week.”
“I'm sorry. What do you amuse yourself with?”
“Nothing.”
“Don't you read?”
“Not much. They won't let me.”
“Have someone come and see you then.”
“There isn't anyone I'd like to see. Boys are loud, and my head hurts.”
“Isn't there some nice girl who'd read and amuse you? Girls are quiet.”
“Don't know any.”
“You know us,” began Jo, then laughed and stopped.
“So I do! Will you come, please?” cried Laurie.
“I'm not quiet and nice, but I'll come, if Mother will let me. I'll go ask her. Shut the window, like a good boy, and wait till I come.”
With that, Jo marched into the house.
Laurie was in a flutter of excitement at the idea of having company, and flew about to get ready. Presently there came a loud ring, then a decided voice, asking for ‘Mr. Laurie', and a surprised-looking servant came running up to announce a young lady.
“All right, let her in, it's Miss Jo,” said Laurie. Jo appeared, looking rosy. Laurie watched her in respectful silence, and when she beckoned him to his sofa, he sat down with a sigh of satisfaction, saying gratefully…
“How kind you are! Yes, that's what it wanted. Now please take the big chair and let me do something to amuse my company.”
“No, I came to amuse you. Shall I read aloud?” said Jo, looking at the books in the room.
“Thank you! I've read all those, and if you don't mind, I'd rather talk,” answered Laurie.
“Not a bit. I'll talk all day. Beth says I never know when to stop.”
“Is Beth the rosy one, who stays at home?” asked Laurie with interest.
“Yes, that's Beth.”
“The pretty one is Meg, and the curly-haired one is Amy, I believe?”
“How did you find that out?”
Laurie colored up[13], but answered frankly, “Why, you see I often hear you calling to one another, and when I'm alone up here, I can't help looking over at your house, you always seem to be having such good times.”
And Laurie poked the fire to hide a little twitching of the lips that he could not control.
“I wish that instead of peeping, you'd come over and see us. Wouldn't your grandpa let you?”
“I think he would, if your mother asked him,” said Laurie, brightening more and more.
“We are not strangers, we are neighbors, and you won't be a bother. We know all of our neighbors but you.”
Then they got to talking about books, and to Jo's delight, she found that Laurie loved them as well as she did, and had read even more than herself.
“If you like them so much, come down and see ours. Grandfather is out, so you needn't be afraid,” said Laurie, getting up.
“I'm not afraid of anything,” returned Jo.
They came to the library, where she clapped her hands and pranced, as she always did when especially delighted. It was lined with books, and there were pictures and statues, and cabinets, and bronzes, and best of all, a great open fireplace.
“What richness!” sighed Jo, sinking into the depth of a velour chair. “Theodore Laurence, you ought to be the happiest boy in the world,” she added impressively.
“A fellow can't live on books,” said Laurie, shaking his head as he perched on a table opposite.
Before he could more, a bell rang, and Jo jumped up, “It's your grandpa!”
“Well, what if it is? You are not afraid of anything, you know,” returned the boy.
“I think I am a little bit afraid of him, but I don't know why I should be. Marmee said I might come, and I don't think you're any the worse for it,” said Jo, composing herself, though she kept her eyes on the door.
“I'm a great deal better for it. I'm only afraid you are very tired of talking to me. It was so pleasant, I couldn't bear to stop,” said Laurie gratefully.
“The doctor to see you, sir,” and the maid beckoned as she spoke.
“Would you mind if I left you for a minute? I suppose I must see him,” said Laurie.
“Don't mind me. I'm happy as a cricket here,” answered Jo.
Laurie went away, and his guest amused herself in her own way. She was standing before a fine portrait of the old gentleman when the door opened again, and without turning, she said decidedly, “I'm sure now that I shouldn't be afraid of him, for he's got kind eyes, though his mouth is grim, and he looks as if he had a tremendous will of his own. He isn't as handsome as my grandfather, but I like him.”
“Thank you, ma'am,” said a gruff voice behind her, and there, to her great dismay, stood old Mr. Laurence.
Poor Jo blushed till she couldn't blush any redder. A second look showed her that the living eyes, under the bushy eyebrows, were kinder even than the painted ones. The old gentleman said, after the dreadful pause, “So you're not afraid of me, hey?”
“Not much, sir.”
“And you don't think me as handsome as your grandfather?”
“Not quite, sir.”
“And I've got a tremendous will, have I?”
“I only said I thought so.”
“But you like me in spite of it?”
“Yes, I do, sir.”
“You've got your grandfather's spirit, if you haven't his face. He was a fine man, my dear, but what is better, he was a brave and an honest one, and I was proud to be his friend.”
“Thank you, sir,” And Jo was quite comfortable after that.
“What have you been doing to this boy of mine, hey?” was the next question, sharply put.
“Only trying to be neighborly, sir.” And Jo told how her visit came about.
“You think he needs cheering up a bit, do you?”
“Yes, sir, he seems a little lonely, and young folks would do him good perhaps. We are only girls, but we should be glad to help if we could, for we don't forget the splendid Christmas present you sent us,” said Jo eagerly.
“Tut, tut, tut! That was the boy's affair. How is the poor woman?”
“Doing nicely, sir.”
“I shall