雙語譯林·小婦人 第十四章　秘密 SECRETS

第十四章　秘密

十月，天開始冷起來，下午也變短了，喬在閣樓上忙得不可開交。和煦的陽光從天窗上照進來，兩三個小時過去了，喬一直坐在舊沙發(fā)上奮筆疾書，面前放著一個箱子，上面攤滿了她的稿紙。她的愛鼠“抓扒”在頭頂?shù)臋M梁上散步，身邊跟著它的長子，這小家伙顯然對它那幾根胡須感到揚揚得意。喬全神貫注地寫著，直到寫完最后一頁，然后龍飛鳳舞地簽上自己的名字，把筆一扔，喊道：

“行了，我已經(jīng)盡力了！要是這還不行，只能等到下次長進了再說吧。”

她靠在沙發(fā)上，把稿子細讀了一遍，又時不時地畫上幾筆，添上不少感嘆號，看上去像一個個小氣球。然后，她用一根漂亮的紅絲帶把稿紙扎起來，又鄭重其事地端詳了一下。毫無疑問，這是她的嘔心瀝血之作。喬在閣樓上的書桌，是一只釘在墻上的舊鐵柜，里面放著稿紙和幾本書，很安全。只要把門一關(guān)，同樣具有文學(xué)天賦的“抓扒”，平時見書就啃，像個流動圖書館似的喜歡把留在外邊的書吞在肚子里，現(xiàn)在只好望柜興嘆了。喬從鐵柜子里取出另一份稿子，把兩份一起放入口袋，然后悄悄地下樓，留下鼠友去啃筆尖、嘗墨水。

她不聲不響地戴上帽子，穿好外衣，從后窗口爬到一個低矮的陽臺頂，縱身跳到一塊草地上，迂回上了大路。至此，她定了定神，搭上一輛過路的馬車直奔城里。一路上她滿臉喜悅，卻又神秘兮兮的。

無論誰見了，都會覺得她的行動非同尋常。一下馬車，喬就大步向前，來到一條繁華大街上，在一個門牌號碼前才慢下來。她好不容易才找到地方，走進門，抬頭望了一眼骯臟的樓梯，呆呆地站了一會兒，突然飛快地沖到街上，速度毫不亞于她來的時候。就這樣，她進進出出好幾個來回，逗得對面樓上一個閑靠在窗口的黑眼睛小先生啞然失笑。第三趟返回的時候，喬抖了一下身子，壓低帽子遮住眼睛，然后朝樓上走去，看上去似乎準備把滿嘴的牙都拔掉。

門口有許多招牌，其中一塊是牙醫(yī)的。一副假頜慢慢地一張一翕，里面一副潔白的牙齒引人注目。小先生定睛看了片刻，然后穿上外套，戴上帽子，下樓站在對面房子的門口。他打了個寒戰(zhàn)，笑著說：“她這種人就知道獨來獨往，她要是痛得受不了，就需要有人護送回家的。”

過了十分鐘，喬滿臉通紅地沖下樓，那模樣就像一個人剛受過殘酷的折磨。她看到年輕人時，神情一點都不高興，點了點頭就從他身邊過去了。可他跟了上來，同情地問：“難受吧？”

“還好。”

“還蠻快的。”

“是的，感謝上帝。”

“怎么一個人來？”

“不想讓人知道。”

“從沒見過你這樣古怪的人。你弄了幾個？”

喬看著她的朋友，有點莫名其妙，接著便開始哈哈大笑，好像有什么事逗她開心。

“兩個，但得等上一個禮拜才能知道結(jié)果。”

“你笑什么？喬，你搞什么鬼？”勞里迷惑不解地問。

“你也是啊。你在上面那間臺球室干什么，先生？”

“對不起，小姐，那不是臺球室，是健身房，我在學(xué)擊劍。”

“那我真高興。”

“為什么？”

“你可以教我，這樣我們演《哈姆雷特》時，你可以扮雷奧提斯，擊劍一場就有好戲看了。”

勞里放聲大笑，那由衷的笑聲惹得幾個過路人也禁不住笑起來。

“演不演《哈姆雷特》我都會教你，這種活動簡直其樂無窮，令人精神煥發(fā)。不過，你剛才說‘真高興’說得那么果斷，我想一定有別的原因，對嗎，嗯？”

“對，我真高興你沒有去臺球室，希望你不要去那種地方。你平時去嗎？”

“不常去。”

“但愿你別去。”

“沒什么害處的，喬。我家里也有臺球的，但沒有好對手，根本沒勁。我喜歡臺球，有時便來和內(nèi)德·莫法特或其他伙伴比一比。”

“哎喲，真為你惋惜，你慢慢就會玩上癮，就會浪費時間金錢，變得跟那些可惡的男孩一樣。我一直希望你會自尊自愛，不令朋友失望。”喬搖著腦袋說。

“難道小伙子偶爾玩一下無傷大雅的游戲，就喪失尊嚴了嗎？”勞里惱火地問。

“那得看他怎么玩和在什么地方玩。我不喜歡內(nèi)德這幫人，也希望你別沾上他們。媽媽不許我們請他到家玩，雖然他想來。如果你變得像他一樣，她便不會讓我們再這么一起嬉鬧了。”

“真的？”勞里焦急地問。

“沒錯，她受不了時髦青年，她寧愿把我們?nèi)缄P(guān)進硬紙帽盒里，也不讓我們跟他們打交道。”

“哦，她還不必拿出硬紙帽盒來。我不是時髦分子，也不想做那種人，但我有時真喜歡沒有害處的玩樂，你不喜歡嗎？”

“喜歡，沒有人在乎這樣娛樂，想玩就玩吧，只是別玩瘋了，好嗎？不然，我們的好日子就完了。”

“我會做個雙重純潔的圣人的。”

“我可受不了圣人，就做個純樸、正派的好男孩吧，我們便永不離棄你。如果你像金家兒子那樣，我可真不知道該怎么辦。他錢多，卻不知怎么花，反而酗酒聚賭，離家出走，還仿冒父親的名字，真是可怕。”

“你以為我也會學(xué)樣？過獎了！”

“不，不是——哎呀，不是的！但我聽人說，金錢能誘惑人，有時我真希望你沒錢，那我就不必擔(dān)心了。”

“你擔(dān)心我嗎，喬？”

“有點兒擔(dān)心，你有時顯得情緒不佳，心懷不滿。你個性極強，一旦走上歪路，恐怕很難攔住。”

勞里不聲不響走了一會兒，喬望著他，但愿自己口有遮攔。雖然他嘴唇掛著微笑，但似乎是在嘲笑她的告誡，眼睛里分明怒氣沖沖。

“你是不是打算一路上給我訓(xùn)話？”這時他問。

“當(dāng)然不是。干嗎？”

“如果是，我就乘公車回家；如果不是，我愿和你一塊步行，并告訴你一些趣聞。”

“那我不再說教了，很想聽聽你的趣聞。”

“那很好，走吧。這是秘密，要是我講了，你也要把你的秘密告訴我。”

“我沒有秘密。”喬說，突然又止住了，想起自己還真有一個。

“你自己心里明白——你什么也瞞不住的。還是坦白出來吧，不然我也不說了。”勞里大聲道。

“你的秘密好聽嗎？”

“哦，那還用說！都是你熟悉的人，很有趣的！你應(yīng)該聽聽，我早就忍不住想講了。來吧，你先說。”

“在家里你一點都不能說，做得到嗎？”

“一句都不說。”

“你不會在背后笑我吧？”

“絕對不會。”

“你會的，想知道什么，總有辦法從人家那里套出來，真不知道是怎么得逞的，反正你是天生就知道哄人。”

“謝謝夸獎。痛快說吧。”

“好吧，我把兩篇短篇小說投給了報社編輯，下個禮拜給答復(fù)。”喬在她好朋友的耳邊嘀咕。

“好哇！馬奇小姐，美國著名作家！”勞里大聲道，把帽子往上一扔，又接住了。這時他們已經(jīng)到了城外，兩只鴨、四只貓、五只母雞和六個愛爾蘭孩子見此都樂壞了。

“噓！我敢肯定，不會有戲的。可不試一下，我不甘心。這事我沒提過，因為不想讓別人失望。”

“肯定能成功。怎么了，那些每天發(fā)表的東西一半都是垃圾，相比之下，你的小說都稱得上是莎士比亞的杰作了。要是看到它們見報，難道不有趣？難道不應(yīng)該為我們的女作家感到自豪嗎？”

喬眼睛一亮，有人信任總是很開心。朋友的贊揚總比報紙上十幾篇吹噓文章要悅耳得多。

“你的秘密是什么？公平交易，特迪，不然，我永遠都不會再相信你了。”她說。勞里的鼓勵使她心中燃起了耀眼的希望之火，可喬正努力熄滅它。

“說出來可能會有麻煩，可我沒有保證要保密，所以說了沒關(guān)系。只要我有好消息，都會告訴你的，要不然，心里憋得慌。我知道美格手套的下落。”

“就這個？”喬失望地問。勞里點點頭，滿臉神秘地眨眨眼。

“這足夠了，等我說了，你就會明白的。”

“那好，說吧。”

勞里俯下身，在喬耳邊嘀咕了三個字，喬的臉上發(fā)生了滑稽的變化。她站著，呆呆地盯著他，顯得詫異又惱火。她好一會兒才繼續(xù)向前走，并厲聲問道：“你是怎么知道的？”

“看到的。”

“在哪里？”

“口袋里。”

“一直在嗎？”

“在的，那不是很浪漫嗎？”

“不，讓人討厭。”

“難道不喜歡？”

“當(dāng)然不喜歡。真荒唐，這不行。天哪！美格知道了會怎么說？”

“你跟誰都別說，注意了。”

“我可沒答應(yīng)你。”

“有默契的，我可是信任你的。”

“好吧，我暫時不說?？晌矣X得惡心，你還是沒跟我說的好。”

“我還以為你會高興呢。”

“想到有人會過來把美格搶走？沒門。”

“有人來把你搶走的時候，你就好受了。”

“我倒要看看，誰敢。”喬惡狠狠地大聲嚷道。

“我也想瞧瞧！”勞里想到這里笑了起來。

“我想，我這人聽不得秘密。聽了你說的那件事，感到腦袋里亂七八糟的。”喬說，沒有絲毫的感激之意。

“和我一起往山下跑，你就會沒事的。”勞里提議。

四下里看不到人，在她前面，平整的山路向前傾斜著延伸下去，確實誘人。喬抵擋不住誘惑，沖了下去，很快就把帽子和梳子都丟在了身后，跑的時候發(fā)卡也掉得滿地都是。勞里先到終點，看到自己的療法靈驗了，就頗為滿意。他的阿塔蘭塔[1]靠近了，只見她氣喘吁吁，頭發(fā)飛散，眼睛發(fā)亮，臉頰紅潤，臉上沒有絲毫不快了。

“我真想變一匹馬，那就可以在這清新的空氣中盡情馳騁，而不用氣喘吁吁了。跑步真是太棒了，但看我這副狼狽相。去，把我的東西撿回來，就像小天使一樣，你本來就是嘛。”喬說著坐到一棵楓樹下面，緋紅的葉子已經(jīng)落滿了河岸邊。

勞里慢吞吞地離開，去收拾丟落的東西，喬束起辮子，心里祈禱不要有人走過，撞見這副狼狽相。但一個人恰恰走過來，不是別人，正是美格。她在串門，穿著整齊的節(jié)慶服裝，更顯出淑女的風(fēng)韻。

“你在這里干什么？”她問，驚訝而不失風(fēng)度地望著頭發(fā)蓬亂的妹妹。

“撿楓葉。”喬溫順地回答，一面挑揀剛剛攏來的一捧楓葉。

“還有發(fā)卡。”勞里接過話頭，把半打發(fā)卡丟到喬膝上，“這條路長了發(fā)卡，美格，還長了梳子和棕色的草帽。”

“你剛剛跑步來著，喬。怎么能這樣子？你什么時候才不再胡鬧？”美格責(zé)備道，一面理理袖口，一面又把被風(fēng)吹起的頭發(fā)撫平。

“等我人老走不動了，不得不用上拐杖，那時再說吧。別使勁催我提早長大成人，美格。看到你一下子變了個人，已經(jīng)夠難受了，就讓我做個小姑娘吧，能做多久是多久。”

說著，喬埋下頭，讓楓葉遮住自己那輕輕顫動的雙唇。她最近感覺到，瑪格麗特正迅速長成一個婦人。姐妹分離是遲早的事情，但勞里講的秘密，使這一天變得迫在眉睫，她害怕呀。勞里看到她滿臉愁容，為了分散美格的注意力，趕緊問：“你剛才上哪兒去串門了，穿得這么漂亮？”

“加德納家。薩莉跟我詳談了貝爾·莫法特的婚禮?；槎Y極盡奢華，新人已去巴黎過冬了。想想那該有多么快樂！”

“你是不是艷羨哪，美格？”勞里問。

“恐怕是吧。”

“那我真高興！”喬咕噥道，把帽子猛地一拉戴上系好。

“為什么？”美格吃驚地問。

“如果你看重財富，就絕不會去嫁一個窮人。”喬說。勞里暗暗示意她說話小心，她卻不悅地對他皺皺眉頭。

“我永遠不會‘去嫁’什么人的。”美格說罷揚長而去。喬和勞里跟在后面，一面笑一面竊竊私語，還向河中打水漂。“表現(xiàn)就像小孩子。”美格心里這樣說，不過若不是穿著最漂亮的衣服，她可能也忍不住和他們一起鬧了。

整整一兩禮拜，喬行動古怪，搞得姐妹們迷惑不解。每當(dāng)郵遞員打鈴，她都會沖到門口；每每遇到布魯克先生，她都顯得很粗魯。她只是一個人坐著，愁眉苦臉地望著美格，偶爾莫名其妙地跳起來推搡她，接著親吻她。還有勞里和她老是互打暗號，談什么“展翅的雄鷹”。姑娘們最后只好宣布：這兩位都精神錯亂。喬爬窗后的第二個禮拜六，勞里在滿園子里追喬，最后在艾美的花棚里抓住了。美格坐在窗口做針線活，見此情景，心中便有幾分不快。他們到底在那里干什么，美格看不到，只聽到刺耳的笑聲，接著是竊竊私語，還有報紙翻響的聲音。

“真拿這小姑娘沒辦法，就是不肯像個淑女模樣。”美格一邊不悅地望著兩人賽跑，一邊嘆息。

“我倒希望她不肯，現(xiàn)在這樣有多風(fēng)趣可愛。”貝絲說。看到喬與別人而不是和自己分享秘密，她心里不免有點難過，卻絕不表露出來。

“這樣是令人討厭，但永遠都不可能使她commy la fo[2]的。”艾美接著說。她坐在那里為自己制作一些新飾邊，一頭鬈發(fā)順順當(dāng)當(dāng)?shù)卦蓛晒桑趾每?，令她自覺優(yōu)雅無比，儀態(tài)萬方。

過了幾分鐘，喬沖了進來，躺在沙發(fā)上假裝看報。

“報紙上有什么奇聞逸事嗎？”美格屈尊地問。

“只有小說一篇，覺得算不上什么。”喬回答，小心翼翼地遮住了報名標記。

“還是大聲讀出來吧。我們開心，你也不會再胡鬧。”艾美用大人的口吻說。

“什么題目？”貝絲問，心里納悶，喬為什么一直都用報紙遮著臉。

“《畫王爭霸》。”

“題目蠻好聽的，快念。”美格說。

喬用力地清了一下嗓子，深深地吸了口氣，然后飛快地讀起來。姑娘們興致勃勃地聽著，故事浪漫而有點傷感，最后大多數(shù)人物都死了。

“我喜歡其中寫漂亮圖畫的那段。”等喬停下來，艾美稱贊道。

“我喜歡描寫情人的那部分。維奧拉和安杰洛是我們最喜歡的兩個名字，是不是有點怪？”美格說著擦了擦濕潤的眼睛。的確，“愛情的部分”寫得非常凄慘哀怨。

“誰寫的？”貝絲瞟了一眼喬的臉色，然后問道。

讀報人突然坐了起來，把報紙一扔，露出通紅的臉蛋，嚴肅的神情中夾著幾分興奮，顯得頗為滑稽。她厲聲回答：“你姐姐。”

“你？”美格喊道，把手頭的活計扔到一邊。

“寫得蠻不錯的。”艾美評論說。

“我早就知道！我早就知道！哦，我的喬，我太自豪了！”貝絲抱住姐姐，為這次巨大的成功而歡呼。

天哪，她們是多么開心，真的！美格怎么都不敢相信，直到她看到“約瑟芬·馬奇小姐”這幾個字明明白白地印在報紙上。艾美寬容地評論著故事中繪畫的部分，又提供了一些寫續(xù)集的線索。不幸的是，事情已經(jīng)不可能了，因為男女主人公都已經(jīng)斃命了。貝絲是多么激動，高興得又唱又跳。漢娜得知是“喬的東西”，十分驚訝，進來就喊：“莎士[3]轉(zhuǎn)世！想都沒想到！”馬奇太太得知此事，也是非常自豪。喬笑得多么開心，眼中噙滿淚水。這時，她宣布，自己夠風(fēng)光的了，就算死了也值得。報紙在大家手里傳來傳去，這份“展翅的雄鷹”仿佛真的在馬奇府的上空展翅翱翔。

“跟我們說說。”“什么時候出的？”“你拿了多少稿費？”“爸爸知道了會怎么說？”“勞里會不會笑話？”全家人圍在喬身邊，七嘴八舌。每每家庭有一點點開心的事，這不識時務(wù)、感情外露的一家人都會狂歡一番。

“別再唧唧喳喳了，姐妹們，我把什么都告訴你們吧。”喬說。她為自己的《畫王爭霸》備感得意，心里還納悶，伯尼[4]小姐對她的《埃維莉娜》是不是感到更光榮一些。講述了兩篇小說投稿的經(jīng)過后，喬補充說：“我去聽回音的時候，那個男的說，兩篇他都喜歡，可他不給初學(xué)寫作的人付稿費，只是登出來，再加些簡評。他說，這是一種有益的做法，等到作者水平提高了，自然大家愿意付稿費。于是，我就把小說都交給了他，這篇是今天剛寄來的，被勞里看到了。他一定要看，我就給他看了。他說寫得不錯，應(yīng)該再寫一些，由他去安排下次的稿費。我很高興，很快我就可以自食其力，還可以幫你們一把呢。”

說到這里，喬緩不過氣來了。她把頭埋在報紙里，灑下幾滴油然而生的眼淚，沾濕了這篇小說。自力更生、贏得親人的贊揚是她心底最大的愿望。通過這次成功，喬似乎邁出了通向那個幸福目標的第一步。

* * *

[1]希臘神話中著名的女獵手，善于奔跑，她向求婚者提出同她賽跑的條件，勝者與之結(jié)婚，敗者用矛刺死。

[2]蹩腳法語，像樣，過得去。

[3]指英國大文豪莎士比亞，漢娜的發(fā)音不準。

[4]英國女作家（1752—1840）, 《埃維莉娜》于1778年匿名發(fā)表，此處對其時間和署名的描述似乎有出入，因為南北戰(zhàn)爭發(fā)生在1761—1765年，時代不一致。

CHAPTER 14 SECRETS

Jo was very busy in the garret, for the October days began to grow chilly, and the afternoons were short. For two or three hours the sun lay warmly in the high window, showing Jo seated on the old sofa, writing busily, with her papers spread out upon a trunk before her, while Scrabble, the pet rat, promenaded the beams overhead, accompanied by his oldest son, a fine young fellow, who was evidently very proud of his whiskers. Quite absorbed in her work, Jo scribbled away till the last page was filled, when she signed her name with a flourish and threw down her pen, exclaiming—

“There, I've done my best! If this won't suit I shall have to wait till I can do better.”

Lying back on the sofa, she read the manuscript carefully through, making dashes here and there, and putting in many exclamation points, which looked like little balloons. Then she tied it up with a smart red ribbon, and sat a minute looking at it with a sober, wistful expression, which plainly showed how earnest her work had been. Jo's desk up here was an old tin kitchen which hung against the wall. In it she kept her papers, and a few books, safely shut away from Scrabble, who, being likewise of a literary turn, was fond of making a circulating library of such books as were left in his way by eating the leaves. From this tin receptacle Jo produced another manuscript, and putting both in her pocket, crept quietly downstairs, leaving her friends to nibble on her pens and taste her ink.

She put on her hat and jacket as noiselessly as possible, and going to the back entry window, got out upon the roof of a low porch, swung herself down to the grassy bank, and took a roundabout way to the road. Once there, she composed herself, hailed a passing omnibus, and rolled away to town, looking very merry and mysterious.

If anyone had been watching her, he would have thought her movements decidedly peculiar, for on alighting, she went off at a great pace till she reached a certain number in a certain busy street; having found the place with some difficulty, she went into the doorway, looked up the dirty stairs, and after standing stock still a minute, suddenly dived into the street and walked away as rapidly as she came. This maneuver she repeated several times, to the great amusement of a black-eyed young gentleman lounging in the window of a building opposite. On returning for the third time, Jo gave herself a shake, pulled her hat over her eyes, and walked up the stairs, looking as if she were going to have all her teeth out.

There was a dentist's sign, among others, which adorned the entrance, and after staring a moment at the pair of artificial jaws which slowly opened and shut to draw attention to a fine set of teeth, the young gentleman put on his coat, took his hat, and went down to post himself in the opposite doorway, saying with a smile and a shiver, “It's like her to come alone, but if she has a bad time she'll need someone to help her home.”

In ten minutes Jo came running downstairs with a very red face and the general appearance of a person who had just passed through a trying ordeal of some sort. When she saw the young gentleman she looked anything but pleased, and passed him with a nod. But he followed, asking with an air of sympathy, “Did you have a bad time? ”

“Not very.”

“You got through quickly.”

“Yes, thank goodness! ”

“Why did you go alone? ”

“Didn't want anyone to know.”

“You're the oddest fellow I ever saw. How many did you have out? ”

Jo looked at her friend as if she did not understand him, then began to laugh as if mightily amused at something.

“There are two which I want to have come out, but I must wait a week.”

“What are you laughing at? You are up to some mischief, Jo, ” said Laurie, looking mystified.

“So are you. What were you doing, sir, up in that billiard saloon? ”

“Begging your pardon, ma'am, it wasn't a billiard saloon, but a gymnasium, and I was taking a lesson in fencing.”

“I'm glad of that.”

“Why? ”

“You can teach me, and then when we play Hamlet, you can be Laertes, and we'll make a fine thing of the fencing scene.”

Laurie burst out with a hearty boy's laugh, which made several passers-by smile in spite of themselves.

“I'll teach you whether we play Hamlet or not.It's grand fun and will straighten you up capitally. But I don't believe that was your only reason for saying ‘I'm glad' in that decided way; was it now? ”

“No, I was glad that you were not in the saloon, because I hope you never go to such places. Do you? ”

“Not often.”

“I wish you wouldn't.”

“It's no harm, Jo. I have billiards at home, but it's no fun unless you have good players, so, as I'm fond of it, I come sometimes and have a game with Ned Moffat or some of the other fellows.”

“Oh, dear, I'm so sorry, for you'll get to liking it better and better, and will waste time and money, and grow like those dreadful boys. I did hope you'd stay respectable and be a satisfaction to your friends, ” said Jo, shaking her head.

“Can't a fellow take a little innocent amusement now and then without losing his respectability? ” asked Laurie, looking nettled.

“That depends upon how and where he takes it. I don't like Ned and his set, and wish you'd keep out of it. Mother won't let us have him at our house, though he wants to come. And if you grow like him she won't be willing to have us frolic together as we do now.”

“Won't she? ” asked Laurie anxiously.

“No, she can't bear fashionable young men, and she'd shut us all up in bandboxes rather than have us associate with them.”

“Well, she needn't get out her bandboxes yet. I'm not a fashionable party and don't mean to be, but I do like harmless larks now and then, don't you? ”

“Yes, nobody minds them, so lark away, but don't get wild, will you? Or there will be an end of all our good times.”

“I'll be a double-distilled saint.”

“I can't bear saints. Just be a simple, honest, respectable boy, and we'll never desert you. I don't know what I should do if you acted like Mr. King's son. He had plenty of money, but didn't know how to spend it, and got tipsy and gambled, and ran away, and forged his father's name, I believe, and was altogether horrid.”

“You think I'm likely to do the same? Much obliged.”

“No, I don't—oh, dear, no! —but I hear people talking about money being such a temptation, and I sometimes wish you were poor. I shouldn't worry then.”

“Do you worry about me, Jo? ”

“A little, when you look moody and discontented, as you sometimes do; for you've got such a strong will, if you once get started wrong, I'm afraid it would be hard to stop you.”

Laurie walked in silence a few minutes, and Jo watched him, wishing she had held her tongue, for his eyes looked angry, though his lips smiled as if at her warnings.

“Are you going to deliver lectures all the way home? ” he asked presently.

“Of course not. Why? ”

“Because if you are, I'll take a bus; if you're not, I'd like to walk with you and tell you something very interesting.”

“I won't preach any more, and I'd like to hear the news immensely.”

“Very well, then, come on. It's a secret, and if I tell you, you must tell me yours.”

“I haven't got any, ” began Jo, but stopped suddenly, remembering that she had.

“You know you have—you can't hide anything, so up and fess, or I won't tell, ” cried Laurie.

“Is your secret a nice one? ”

“Oh, isn't it! All about people you know, and such fun! You ought to hear it, and I've been aching to tell it this long time. Come, you begin.”

“You'll not say anything about it at home, will you? ”

“Not a word.”

“And you won't tease me in private? ”

“I never tease.”

“Yes, you do. You get everything you want out of people. I don't know how you do it, but you are a born wheedler.”

“Thank you. Fire away.”

“Well, I've left two stories with a newspaperman, and he's to give his answer next week, ” whispered Jo, in her confidant's ear.

“Hurrah for Miss March, the celebrated American authoress! ” cried Laurie, throwing up his hat and catching it again, to the great delight of two ducks, four cats, five hens, and half a dozen Irish children, for they were out of the city now.

“Hush! It won't come to anything, I dare say, but I couldn't rest till I had tried, and I said nothing about it because I didn't want anyone else to be disappointed.”

“It won't fail. Why, Jo, your stories are works of Shakespeare compared to half the rubbish that is published every day. Won't it be fun to see them in print, and shan't we feel proud of our authoress? ”

Jo's eyes sparkled, for it is always pleasant to be believed in, and a friend's praise is always sweeter than a dozen newspaper puffs.

“Where's your secret? Play fair, Teddy, or I'll never believe you again, ” she said, trying to extinguish the brilliant hopes that blazed up at a word of encouragement.

“I may get into a scrape for telling, but I didn't promise not to, so I will, for I never feel easy in my mind till I've told you any plummy bit of news I get. I know where Meg's glove is.”

“Is that all? ” said Jo, looking disappointed, as Laurie nodded and twinkled with a face full of mysterious intelligence.

“It's quite enough for the present, as you'll agree when I tell you where it is.”

“Tell, then.”

Laurie bent, and whispered three words in Jo's ear, which produced a comical change. She stood and stared at him for a minute, looking both surprised and displeased, then walked on, saying sharply, “How do you know? ”

“Saw it.”

“Where? ”

“Pocket.”

“All this time? ”

“Yes, isn't that romantic? ”

“No, it's horrid.”

“Don't you like it? ”

“Of course I don't. It's ridiculous, it won't be allowed. My patience! What would Meg say? ”

“You are not to tell anyone. Mind that.”

“I didn't promise.”

“That was understood, and I trusted you.”

“Well, I won't for the present, anyway, but I'm disgusted, and wish you hadn't told me.”

“I thought you'd be pleased.”

“At the idea of anybody coming to take Meg away? No, thank you.”

“You'll feel better about it when somebody comes to take you away.”

“I'd like to see anyone try it, ” cried Jo fiercely.

“So should I! ” And Laurie chuckled at the idea.

“I don't think secrets agree with me, I feel rumpled up in my mind since you told me that, ” said Jo rather ungratefully.

“Race down this hill with me, and you'll be all right, ” suggested Laurie.

No one was in sight, the smooth road sloped invitingly before her, and finding the temptation irresistible, Jo darted away, soon leaving hat and comb behind her and scattering hairpins as she ran. Laurie reached the goal first and was quite satisfied with the success of his treatment, for his Atlanta came panting up with flying hair, bright eyes, ruddy cheeks, and no signs of dissatisfaction in her face.

“I wish I was a horse, then I could run for miles in this splendid air, and not lose my breath. It was capital, but see what a guy it's made me. Go, pick up my things, like a cherub, as you are, ” said Jo, dropping down under a maple tree, which was carpeting the bank with crimson leaves.

Laurie leisurely departed to recover the lost property, and Jo bundled up her braids, hoping no one would pass by till she was tidy again. But someone did pass, and who should it be but Meg, looking particularly ladylike in her state and festival suit, for she had been making calls.

“What in the world are you doing here? ” she asked, regarding her disheveled sister with well-bred surprise.

“Getting leaves, ” meekly answered Jo, sorting the rosy handful she had just swept up.

“And hairpins, ” added Laurie, throwing half a dozen into Jo's lap.“They grow on this road, Meg; so do combs and brown straw hats.”

“You have been running, Jo. How could you? When will you stop such romping ways? ” said Meg reprovingly, as she settled her cuffs and smoothed her hair, with which the wind had taken liberties.

“Never till I'm stiff and old and have to use a crutch. Don't try to make me grow up before my time, Meg: it's hard enough to have you change all of a sudden. Let me be a little girl as long as I can.”

As she spoke, Jo bent over the leaves to hide the trembling of her lips, for lately she had felt that Margaret was fast getting to be a woman, and Laurie's secret made her dread the separation which must surely come some time and now seemed very near. He saw the trouble in her face and drew Meg's attention from it by asking quickly, “Where have you been calling, all so fine? ”

“At the Gardiners', and Sallie has been telling me all about Belle Moffat's wedding. It was very splendid, and they have gone to spend the winter in Paris. Just think how delightful that must be! ”

“Do you envy her, Meg? ” said Laurie.

“I'm afraid I do.”

“I'm glad of it! ” muttered Jo, tying on her hat with a jerk.

“Why? ” asked Meg, looking surprised.

“Because if you care much about riches, you will never go and marry a poor man, ” said Jo, frowning at Laurie, who was mutely warning her to mind what she said.

“I shall never ‘go and marry' anyone, ” observed Meg, walking on with great dignity while the others followed, laughing, whispering, skipping stones, and “behaving like children, ” as Meg said to herself, though she might have been tempted to join them if she had not had her best dress on.

For a week or two, Jo behaved so queerly that her sisters were quite bewildered. She rushed to the door when the postman rang, was rude to Mr. Brooke whenever they met, would sit looking at Meg with a woe-begone face, occasionally jumping up to shake and then kiss her in a very mysterious manner; Laurie and she were always making signs to one another, and talking about “Spread Eagles” till the girls declared they had both lost their wits. On the second Saturday after Jo got out of the window, Meg, as she sat sewing at her window, was scandalized by the sight of Laurie chasing Jo all over the garden and finally capturing her in Amy's bower. What went on there, Meg could not see, but shrieks of laughter were heard, followed by the murmur of voices and a great flapping of newspapers.

“What shall we do with that girl?She never will behave like a young lady, ” sighed Meg, as she watched the race with a disapproving face.

“I hope she won't; she is so funny and dear as she is, ” said Beth, who had never betrayed that she was a little hurt at Jo's having secrets with anyone but her.

“It's very trying, but we never can make her commy la fo, ”added Amy, who sat making some new frills for herself, with her curls tied up in a very becoming way—two agreeable things that made her feel unusually elegant and ladylike.

In a few minutes Jo bounced in, laid herself on the sofa, and affected to read.

“Have you anything interesting there? ” asked Meg, with condescension.

“Nothing but a story; won't amount to much, I guess, ” returned Jo, carefully keeping the name of the paper out of sight.

“You'd better read it aloud. That will amuse us and keep you out of mischief, ” said Amy in her most grown-up tone.

“What's the name? ” asked Beth, wondering why Jo kept her face behind the sheet.

“The Rival Painters.”

“That sounds well; read it, ” said Meg.

With a loud “Hem! ” and a long breath, Jo began to read very fast. The girls listened with interest, for the tale was romantic, and somewhat pathetic, as most of the characters died in the end. “I like that about the splendid picture” was Amy's approving remark, as Jo paused.

“I prefer the lovering part. Viola and Angelo are two of our favorite names, isn't that queer? ” said Meg, wiping her eyes, for the “lovering part”was tragical.

“Who wrote it? ” asked Beth, who had caught a glimpse of Jo's face.

The reader suddenly sat up, cast away the paper, displaying a flushed countenance, and with a funny mixture of solemnity and excitement replied in a loud voice, “Your sister.”

“You? ” cried Meg, dropping her work.

“It's very good, ” said Amy critically.

“I knew it! I knew it! Oh, my Jo, I am so proud! ” and Beth ran to hug her sister and exult over this splendid success.

Dear me, how delighted they all were, to be sure! How Meg wouldn't believe it till she saw the words, “Miss Josephine March, ” actually printed in the paper. How graciously Amy criticized the artistic parts of the story, and offered hints for a sequel, which unfortunately couldn't be carried out, as the hero and heroine were dead. How Beth got excited, and skipped and sang with joy. How Hannah came in to exclaim “Sakes alive, well I never! ”in great astonishment at “that Jo's doin's”; how proud Mrs. March was when she knew it. How Jo laughed, with tears in her eyes, as she declared she might as well be a peacock and done with it, and how the “Spread Eagle” might be said to flap his wings triumphantly over the House of March, as the paper passed from hand to hand.

“Tell us about it.” “When did it come? ” “How much did you get for it? ” “What will Father say? ” “Won't Laurie laugh? ” cried the family, all in one breath as they clustered about Jo, for these foolish, affectionate people made a jubilee of every little household joy.

“Stop jabbering, girls, and I'll tell you everything, ” said Jo, wondering if Miss Burney felt any grander over her Evelina than she did over her“Rival Painters”. Having told how she disposed of her tales, Jo added, “And when I went to get my answer, the man said he liked them both, but didn't pay beginners, only let them print in his paper, and noticed the stories. It was good practice, he said, and when the beginners improved, anyone would pay. So I let him have the two stories, and today this was sent to me, and Laurie caught me with it and insisted on seeing it, so I let him; and he said it was good, and I shall write more, and he's going to get the next paid for, and I am so happy,for in time I may be able to support myself and help the girls.”

Jo's breath gave out here, and wrapping her head in the paper, she bedewed her little story with a few natural tears, for to be independent and earn the praise of those she loved were the dearest wishes of her heart, and this seemed to be the first step toward that happy end.