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 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 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 manoeuvre she repeated several times, to the great amusement of a black-eyed young gentleman lounging in the window of the 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 minute 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 straighter, you up capitally. But I don't believe that was your 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 or 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 for a few minutes, and Jo watched him, wishing she had held her tongue, for his eyes looked angry though his lips still 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 are 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 newspaper man, 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 Atalanta 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 by, 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 dishevelled 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 be stopping 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 woebegone 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 anyone but her.

It's very trying, but we can never make her commy la fo,' added Amy, who sat making some new frills for herself, with her curls tied up in a very becoming was - two agreeable things, which 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 favourite 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 began 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 criticised 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 sung 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 all 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 towards that happy end.

 

乔在阁楼上十分忙碌，因为十月已到，天气开始寒冷，下午也变短了。温煦的阳光从高高的窗子射进来。两三个小时过去了，乔仍然坐在旧沙发上，把稿纸摊在面前的一个大箱子上头，奋笔疾书，她的爱鼠扒扒则在梁上大模大样地蹓跶，乔全神贯注地挥笔疾书，一直写满最后一页，然后龙飞凤舞地签上自己的名字，把笔一丢，大声说 “好啦，我已使足了劲儿！如果这还不行，我只得等到下次啦。”她向后靠在沙发上，把稿子仔细阅读一遍，在这儿那儿划上破折号，又添上许多看上去像小气球一样的感叹号，然后用一根漂亮的红绸带把稿纸扎起来，又严肃地望着它出了一会儿神，可见这篇作品凝聚了她多少心血。乔这上头的书桌是一个挂在墙上的旧锡制碗柜，里头放着她的手稿和几本书，十分安全，只要把柜门一关，同样富有文学才情、见书就啃的扒扒便只能望柜兴叹了。乔从这个锡柜里拿出另一份手镐，把两份稿子放进衣袋，悄悄下了楼梯，任由她的朋友把她的钢笔墨水大啃大喝。

她蹑手蹑脚地戴上帽子，穿好外衣，从后屋窗口出来，站在一个低矮的门廊顶棚上头，悬空一跳，落在一块草地上，然后兜个圈子来到公路边，定定神儿，扬手拦了一辆出租马车，一路驶进城里，脸上的神情快乐而又神秘。

如果这时有人看到她，一定会觉得她的行动希奇古怪。她一下车便快步如飞，一直奔到位于一条繁忙大街的一个门牌前面，这才缓下脚步；颇费一番功夫后，她找到了要找的地方，于是踏进门口，抬头望望肮肮脏脏的楼梯，又站着一动不动地呆了一会，突然一头扎进大街，往回疾走。这样来而复去，几次三番，把对面楼上，凭窗而望的一位黑眼睛年轻人逗得开怀大乐。第三次折回来时，乔使劲摇摇脑袋，把帽沿拉下遮住眼睛，走上楼梯，脸上挂着一副准备把牙统统拔光的表情。

楼门口挂着几面牌子，其中一面是牙医招牌，一对假颌慢慢地开而又合，以吸引人注意里头一副洁白的牙齿。方才那位年轻人盯着假颌看了一会，拿起自己的帽子，穿上大衣，走下楼来站在对面门口，打了个哆嗦，微笑说：“她素爱独来独往，但万一她痛得难受，就要有人送她回家了。”十分钟后乔涨红着脸跑下楼梯，一望而知刚刚经受了一场磨难。当她看到年轻人时，神情一点也不显得高兴，只点个头便走了过去；但他跟上去，同情地问：“刚才是不是很难受？”“有点。”“这么快就好了？”“是，谢天谢地。”“为什么一个人来？”“不想别人知道。”“真是个空前绝后的怪人。你弄出了几个？”乔望着自己的朋友，似乎莫明其妙，接着便笑得乐不可支。

“我想弄出两个来，但得等上一个星期。”“你笑什么？你在淘气，乔，”劳里说，神情显得迷惑不解。

“你也是。你在上面那间桌球室干什么，先生？”“对不起，小姐，那不是桌球室，而是健身房，我刚才在学击剑。”“那我真高兴。”“为什么？”“你可以教我，这样我们演《哈姆雷特》时，你便可以扮累尔提斯，我们演击剑一幕就有好戏做了。”

劳里放声大笑，那由衷的笑声引得几个过路人也不禁笑起来。

“演不演《哈姆雷特》我都会教你，这种娱乐简直妙不可言，令人精神大振。不过，你刚才说'高兴'说得那么一本正经，我想一定另有原因，对吗，嗯？”“对，我真高兴你没有上桌球室，因为我决不希望你去那种地方。你平时去吗？”“不常去。”“我但愿你别去。”“这并无害处，乔，我在家也玩桌球，但如果没有好球手，就不好玩了，因为我喜欢桌球，有时便和内德·莫法特或起他伙伴来比试比试。”“噢，是吗？我真为你感到惋惜，因为你慢慢就会玩上瘾，就会糟蹋时间和金钱，变得跟那些可恶的小子一样。我一直希望你会自尊自爱，不令朋友失望，“乔摇着脑袋说。

“难道男孩子偶尔玩一下无伤大雅的游戏就丧失尊严了吗？”劳里恼火地问。

“那得看他怎么玩和在什么地方玩。我不喜欢内德这帮人，也希望你别粘上他们。妈妈不许我们请他到家玩，虽然他想来，如果你变得像他一样，她便不会让我们再这么一起嬉闹了。”“真的？”劳里焦虑地问。

“当然，她看不惯赶时髦的年青人，她宁愿把我们全都关进硬纸匣里，也不让我们跟他们拉扯上。”“哦，她倒不必拿出她的硬纸匣来，我不是赶时髦的那种人，也不想做那种人，但我有时真喜欢没有害处的玩乐，你不喜欢吗？”“喜欢，没有人反对这样的娱乐，你爱玩便玩吧，只是别玩野了心，好吗？不然，我们的好日子就完了。”“我会做个不折不扣的圣人。”“我可受不了圣人，就做个其实、正派的好小伙吧，我们便永不离弃你。如果你像金斯先生的儿子那样，我可真不知道该怎么办；他有很多饯，但却不知怎么用，反而酗酒聚赌，离家出逃，还盗用他父亲的名字，可谓劣迹斑斑。”“你以为我也会做出这种事？过奖了！”“不，不是-- 噢，哎呀，不是的！ 但我听人说金钱是个蛊惑人心的魔鬼，有时我真希望你没有钱财，那我就不必担心了。”“你担心我吗，乔？”“你有时显得情绪低落，内心不满，这时我便有点儿担心；因为你个性极强，如果一旦走上歪路，我恐怕很难阻挡你。”劳里一言不发，默默而行。乔望着他，暗恨自己快嘴快舌没有遮拦，因为虽然他的嘴唇依旧挂着微笑，似乎在嘲笑她的忠告，一双眼睛却分明含着怒意。

“你是不是打算一路上给我训话？”过了好一会儿他问。

“当然不是。为什么？”

“如果是，我就乘公共汽车回家；如果不是，我就和你一块步行，并告诉你一件顶顶有趣的新闻。”“那我不再说教了，我很想听听你的新闻。”“那很好，不过，这是个秘密，如果我告诉你，你得把你的告诉我。”“我没有什么秘密。”乔一语未毕，又猛然住了口，想起自己还真有一个。

“你知道自己有的--你什么也藏不住，还是乖乖说出来吧，不然我就不说，”劳里叫道。

“你的那个是好消息吗？”

“噢，怎么不是！都和你认识的人有关，简直妙不可言！

你应该听听，我憋了好久了，一直想讲出来。来吧，你先开始。”“你在家一个字也不能提，好吗？”“只字不提。”“你不会私下取笑我？”“我从来不取笑人。 “不，你取笑的，你什么都可以从人家嘴里套出来。我不知你是怎么做的，但你天生是个哄人的专家。”“谢谢了，请说吧。”“嗯，我把两篇故事交给了一位报社编辑，他下个星期就答复我，”乔向她的密友耳语道。

“好一个马奇小姐，著名的美国女作家！”劳里叫道，把自己的帽子向空中一抛，然后接祝这时他们已走到城郊，两只鸭、四头猫、五只鸡和六个爱尔兰小童见状全都大乐不已。

“小声！我敢说这不会有什么结果，但我总要试一试才会甘心。我不想让其他人失望，所以只字未提。”“你一定得偿所愿。嘿，乔，现在每天出笼的文章有半数是垃圾，跟它们一比，你的故事堪称是莎士比亚的大作。看到你的大作印在报上该多有意思！我们怎能不为我们的女作家而感到自豪？”乔眼睛闪闪发亮。劳里相信她，她心里感到甜丝丝的，而朋友的赞扬总是比一打报上吹捧自己的文章还要动听。

“你的秘密呢？公平交易，特迪，否则我再不会相信你的，”她说，试图把因劳里的鼓励而燃起的巨大希望打消掉。

“我说出来或者会尴尬，但我并没说要保密，所以我要说，但凡我知道一星半点好消息，如果不告诉你心里就不会舒坦。

我知道梅格的手套在哪儿。”

“仅此而已？”乔失望地说。劳里点点头，高深莫测地眨眨眼睛。

蛊“已经足够了，我说出来后你自然会明白。”“那么，请说吧。”劳里俯下身，在乔耳边悄悄说了几个字，乔神色随即变得十分古怪。她诧异万分地呆站着，忿忿地瞪了他一会儿，又继续往前走，厉声问道：“你怎么知道的？”“看到的。 “在哪？”“口袋。”“一直都是？”“对，是不是很浪漫？”“不，叫人恶心。”“你不喜欢吗？”“当然不喜欢。这种事荒唐透顶，是不允许的。啊呀！梅格会怎么说？”“你不能告诉任何人，请注意。”“我并没许诺。”“你早就明白的，而我也相信你。”“嗯，我目前不会说出去，但我恶心死了，宁愿你没告诉我。”“我以为你会高兴呢。”“高兴别人来把梅格夺走？想得真美！”“等到也有人来把你夺走时，你心里就会好受一点了。”“我倒要看看谁敢，”乔恶狠狠地叫道。

“我也一样！”想到这种情景，劳里抿着嘴暗笑。

“我认为悄悄话和我的性格格格不入，听了你的话后我脑蛊子里乱糟糟的，”乔有点忘恩负义地说。

“跟我一起冲下这个山坡，你就没事了，”劳里建议。

路上不见行人，平滑倾斜的公路诱惑地摆在她面前，使她不可抗拒，乔于是直冲而下，不一会便把帽子和梳子跌掉了，发夹也落了一地，劳里先跑到目标，为自己成功地理好了情绪而感到十分满意，只见他的阿特兰特气喘吁吁，乱发齐飞，眼睛闪闪发亮，双颊绯红，脸上的不快之色早已消失得干干净净了。

“我真想变一匹马儿，那我就可以沐浴在这清新的空气中尽情驰骋而不用气喘吁吁了。这么跑步真是太棒了，但看我弄成了什么样子。去，把我的东西捡起来，就像小天使一样，你本来就是嘛，”乔说着坐到河岸边一棵挂满绯红叶子的枫树下面。

劳里慢悠悠地去收拾丢落的东西，乔束起辫子，只望这当儿千万不要有人走过，撞见她这副狼狈样子，但一个人恰恰走过来，此人不是别人，正是梅格。她出门拜访朋友，穿着一身整齐的节日服装，更显得一派淑女的风韵。

“你究竟在这里干什么？”她问，惊讶而不失风度地望着头发蓬乱的妹妹。

“捡树叶，”乔温顺地回答，一面挑选刚刚拢来的一捧红叶。

“还有发夹，”劳里接过话头，把半打发夹丢到乔膝上，蛊“这条路长了发夹，梅格，还长了梳子和棕色的草帽。”“你刚刚跑步来，乔。你怎么能这样？你什么时候才不再胡闹？”梅格责备道，一面理理袖口，又把被风吹起的头发抚平。

“等我老得走不动了，不得不用上拐杖，那时再说吧。别使劲催我提早长人，梅格，看到你一下子变了个人已经够难受了，就让我做个小姑娘吧，能做多久是多久。”乔边说边埋下头，让红叶遮住自己那轻轻抖动的双唇。她最近感觉到玛格丽特正迅速长成一个女人，姐妹分离是一定的事情，但劳里的秘密使这一天变得似乎近在眼前，她心中十分恐惧。劳里看到她满脸悲泣，为了分散梅格的注意力，赶紧问：“你刚才上哪儿去来，穿得这么漂亮。”“加德纳家。莎莉跟我谈了贝儿·莫法特的婚礼。婚礼极尽奢华，一对新人已去巴黎过冬了。想想那该有多么浪漫！”“你是不是嫉妒她，梅格？”劳里问。

“恐怕是吧。”

“谢天谢地！”乔咕哝道，把帽子猛地一拉戴上。

“为什么？”梅格奇怪地问。

“因为如果你看重金钱，就绝不会去嫁一个穷人，”乔说。

劳里赶紧示意她说话小心，她却不悦地对他皱皱眉头。

“我不会'去嫁'什么人，”梅格说罢昂然而去。乔和劳里跟在后面，一面笑一面窃窃私语，还向河中投掷石头。”表现得就像一对小孩子，”梅格心里这样说，不过如果不是穿着最漂亮的衣服，她可能也忍不住和他们一起闹了。

此后的一段日子里，乔行为古怪，令姐妹们个个摸不着蛊头脑。但逢邮递员一按门铃，她便冲到门前，每当见到布鲁克先生，她就粗声粗气，常常坐在一边愁眉苦脸地望着梅格，一会跳起来摇摇她，然后又莫明其妙地亲她一下；劳里和她常常互相打暗号，并谈论什么"展翼鹰"。姐妹们终于断言这对人物全都失了魂儿。在乔从窗子跳出去后的第二个星期六，梅格坐在窗边做针线活，看到劳里满园子追逐乔，最后在艾美的花荫下把乔捉住了，不免心生反感。她看不到两人在里头干什么，只听到一阵尖笑声，随后听到一阵咕咕哝哝的低语声和一声响亮的拍击报纸声。

“我们真拿这姑娘没办法，她就是不肯像个淑女一样文文静静。”梅格一面不悦地望着两人赛跑，一面叹息。

“我倒希望她不肯；她现在这样多风趣可爱，”贝思说。看到乔与别人而不是和自己分享秘密，她心里有点不受用，但却绝不表露出来。

“她这样令人十分难堪，但我们从来都不能使她规矩下来，”艾美接着说。她坐在那里为自己制一些新饰边，一头鬈发漂漂亮亮地扎成两股，十分好看，令她自觉优雅无比，仪态万千。

几分钟后乔冲进来，一头躺在沙发上，假装看报。

“你看到什么有趣的文章吗？”梅格屈尊问道。

“一则故事而已；并非什么大作，我想，”乔答，小心翼翼地不让大家看到报纸的名字。

“你最好把它读出来；这样我们大家高兴，你也不至于胡闹，”艾美用一副大人的腔调说。

“故事是什么题目？”贝思问，一面奇怪乔为什么把脸藏蛊在报纸后面。

“《画家争雄》。”

“挺好听的；念出来吧，”梅格说。

乔重重地咳了一下，吸了一口长气，开始很快地往下念。

故事优美浪漫，而且不乏哀婉动人之处，因为到最后大多数角色都死掉了。姐妹们听得津津有味。

“我喜欢有关漂亮图画的那一节，”乔停下来时艾美满意地说。

“我更喜欢爱情那一节。维奥拉和安吉洛是我最喜欢的两个名字，你们说怪不怪？”梅格擦着眼睛说，因为"爱情那一节"十分凄婉。

“谁写的？”贝思问。她瞥见了乔的脸色。

读报人突然坐起来，扔开报纸，露出一张涨得通红的脸孔，尽力控制着兴奋的心情，强作严肃地高声回答：“你姐姐。”“你！”梅格叫道，手里的活计掉了下来。

“这太好了，”艾美评论道。

“我早就知道会有今天！我早就知道会有今天！噢，我的乔，我是多么骄傲！“贝思跑上去紧紧拥抱姐姐，为这一辉煌成就欢呼雀跃。

哦，姐妹们的兴奋真是难以言状！梅格怎么也不相信这是真的，直到看到"约瑟芬·马奇小姐"白纸黑字印在报上时，这才信了；艾美彬彬有礼地对艺术性章节批评一番，又提供一些写续集的线索，可惜故事不能再续，因为男女主角都死掉了；贝思兴奋不已，高兴得又唱又跳；罕娜进来看到"乔的东西"时惊愕得大喊大叫；马奇太太知道后更是倍感自蛊豪；乔笑得流出了眼泪，宣布自己已出足了风头，就是死也是值得的了；报纸从大家手上传来传去，这份"展翼鹰"就像真正的雄鹰一样在马奇家上空振翅高飞！

“跟我们说说吧，什么时候来的？”“得了多少稿费？”“爸爸会怎么说？劳里一定会很开心吧？”全家人簇拥着乔一口气par叫道。每逢家里有一点什么芝麻大的喜事，这些痴情的人都要兴高采烈地庆祝一番。

“别叽叽喳喳了，姑娘们，听我把事情从头道来，”为自己的《画家争雄》倍感得意的乔说，怀疑伯尼小姐对她的《埃维莉娜》是不是感到更光荣一些。她告诉大家自己如何把两篇故事送出，然后又说：“当我去询问结果时，编辑说两其他都喜欢，但处女作没有稿酬，他们只把作者的名字登在报上，并对故事进行评论。这是一种很好的锻炼，编辑说，处女作作者的水平提高后，谁都愿意付钱。所以我把两篇故事都交由他发表。今天我收到了这一篇，劳里撞见了，一定要看看，我便让他看了；他说写得好，我准备再写一些，他去弄妥下次的稿酬。我真高兴死了，因为不久后我便能够养活自己并帮助各位姐妹。”乔喘了一口气，把头藏在报纸里头，情不自禁地洒下几滴泪珠，把自己的小故事滴湿了；自食其力、赢得所爱的人的称赞是她心头最大的愿望，今天的成功似乎是迈向幸福终点的第一步。