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 to 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 any one but her.
"It's very trying, but we never can make her comme 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, which made her feel unusually elegant and lady-like.
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; don't amount to much, I guess," returned Jo, carefully keeping the name of the paper out of sight.
