CHAPTER EIGHT

Jo's Sorrow

"Girls, where are you going?" asked Amy, coming into their room one Saturday afternoon, and finding them getting ready to go out.

"Never mind. Little girls shouldn't ask questions," returned Jo coldly.

Turning to Meg, who never refused her anything very long, she said sweetly, "Do tell me! I know you would let me go, too. I don't have anything to do, and I am so lonely."

"I can't, dear, because you aren't invited," began Meg.

"Now, Meg, be quiet or you will spoil it all. You can't go, Amy, so don't be a baby and complain about it."

"You are going somewhere with Laurie, I know you are. You were whispering and laughing together on the sofa last night, and you stopped when I came in. Aren't you going with him?"

"Yes, we are. Now, stop bothering."

"I know! I know!" exclaimed Amy after a few moments. "You're going to the theater!" she cried, "and I shall go. I have my own money, so I can buy my own ticket."

"Now, listen to me, and be a good child," said Meg. "Mother doesn't wish you to go this week. Next week you can go with Beth and Hannah, and have a nice time."

"I want to go with you and Laurie. Please let me."

"Well, suppose we take her. I don't believe Mother would mind," began Meg.

"If she goes, then I won't, and if I don't, Laurie won't like it, and it will be very rude, after he invited only us," said Jo angrily.

"I shall go. Meg says I can, and if I pay for myself, Laurie shouldn't be concerned about me," cried Amy.

"You can't sit with us, as our seats are reserved, and you must not sit alone; so Laurie will give you his place, and that will ruin our pleasure; or he'll get another seat for you, and that isn't proper when you weren't asked. You will not go," scolded Jo.

Sitting on the floor with one boot on, Amy began to cry when Laurie arrived, and the two girls hurried out, leaving their sister crying loudly.

"You'll be sorry for this, Jo March!" the little girl exclaimed as the two left.

When they returned after a pleasurable time at the theater, they found Amy reading, refusing to say a word. Jo soon noticed that Amy had thrown the contents of her drawer on the floor, though she soon discovered everything was there.

The next day, however, she realized something was missing. Meg, Beth, and Amy were sitting together, late in the afternoon when Jo burst into the room, asking, "Has anyone taken my book?"

Meg and Beth said, "No," at once, and looked surprised. Amy said nothing.

"Amy, you've got it!"

"No, I don't."

"You know where it is, then!"

"No, I don't."

"That's a lie!" cried Jo.

"It isn't. I don't have it, don't know where it is now, and don't care."

"You know something about it, and you'd better tell me now."

"Scold as much as you like, you'll never see your silly old book again," cried Amy.

"Why not?"

"I burned it in the fireplace."

"What! My little book I was so fond of, and worked over, and planned to finish before Father got home? Did you really burn it?" asked Jo, turning very pale.

"Yes, I did!"

"You evil, evil girl! I can never write it again, and I'll never forgive you as long as I live!" Jo exclaimed before running out of the room.

A few hours later at dinner, Jo appeared, looking more upset than ever. Mrs March had easily explained to Amy how she had deeply wronged her sister, as that book had been Jo's pride, and had taken several years to write. At dinner, Amy found it very difficult to apologize to her sister.

"Please forgive me, Jo, I'm very, very sorry."

"I shall never forgive you," Jo answered coldly, and from that moment she refused to speak to the girl, quite deeply offending Amy.

"Everybody is so hateful, I'll ask Laurie to go skating. He is always kind and cheery," said Jo to herself.

Amy saw Jo take out her skates, and decided to follow her older sister, hoping she could do something kind for her on the way.

After Jo and Laurie had put on their skates, Laurie skated off, calling back—

"Stay near the shore; it isn't safe in the middle."

Jo heard, but Amy was far behind, still putting on her skates, and did not hear his warning.

"No matter whether she heard or not, let her take care of herself," Jo thought to herself.

Laurie was now far ahead, while Amy was behind Jo, moving toward the smoother ice in the middle. For a minute, Jo stood still with a strange feeling in her heart, but decided to continue, but she then turned around just in time to see her sister fall through the ice into the water. She tried to call Laurie, but her voice was gone. She tried to go to her sister, but her feet refused to move, and for a second, she only stood watching in terror. Laurie then rushed past her, and she followed. During the next few minutes, she obeyed Laurie's orders, helping pull her frightened sister out from the icy water.

They managed to get the little girl home, and she was soon asleep under blankets in front of the fireplace.

When Amy was comfortably asleep, and Mrs March sitting by the bed, she called Jo to her.

"Are you sure she is safe?" whispered Jo.

"Quite safe, dear. She is not hurt, and you were so quick in covering her and getting her home," replied her mother cheerfully.

"Laurie did it all. I only let her go. Mother, if she should die, it would be my fault! It's my terrible temper!" Jo cried, telling all that had happened, bitterly blaming herself, and crying with gratitude that little Amy's life had been spared. The mother felt a great deal of pity for her suffering child, seeing how guilty she felt, and Jo sincerely promised her mother that she would learn to control her anger.

"I went to sleep angry and I wouldn't forgive her and today, if it hadn't been for Laurie, it might have been too late! How could I be so horrible?" said Jo, half aloud as she stroked her sister's hair gently.

As if she heard, Amy opened her eyes and held out her arms, with a smile on her face. Neither said a word, but they hugged one another close, and everything was forgiven and forgotten.

(end of section)