"Yes, please, but I never will again;" and he went down upon his knees with a penitent clasping of hands, and a face full of mischief, mirth, and triumph.
"Actually married?"
"Very much so, thank you."
"Mercy on us; what dreadful thing will you do next?" and Jo fell into her seat, with a gasp.
"A characteristic, but not exactly complimentary congratulation," returned Laurie, still in an abject attitude, but beaming with satisfaction.
"What can you expect, when you take one's breath away, creeping in like a burglar, and letting cats out of bags like that? Get up, you ridiculous boy, and tell me all about it."
"Not a word, unless you let me come in my old place, and promise not to barricade."
Jo laughed at that as she had not done for many a long day, and patted the sofa invitingly, as she said, in a cordial tone,—
"The old pillow is up garret, and we don't need it now; so, come and 'fess, Teddy."
"How good it sounds to hear you say 'Teddy'; no one ever calls me that but you;" and Laurie sat down with an air of great content.
"What does Amy call you?"
"My lord."
"That's like her—well, you look it;" and Jo's eyes plainly betrayed that she found her boy comelier than ever.
The pillow was gone, but there was a barricade, nevertheless; a natural one raised by time, absence, and change of heart. Both felt it, and for a minute
