Free Classics Mutilated by Jeff Conner Page B

you heaps of good, and we'd welcome you and have jolly times. Wouldn't your grandpa let you?" 
    "I think he would if your mother asked," replied Laurie. "He's very kind, though he does not look so. He lets me do whatever I like, pretty much, only he's afraid I might be a bother to strangers." 
    "We are not strangers. We are neighbors. And you needn't worry you'd be a bother to us. We want to know you. I've been wanting to meet you ever so long. We have got acquainted with all our neighbors save you." 
    "Well, you see, Grandpa lives among his books and doesn't mind much what happens outside. Mr. Brooke, my tutor, doesn't live here, so I have no one to go about with me, so I just stay at home and get on as best I can until I can return."
    "Return?"
    "Return home," said Laurie and, like on the night of the party, Jo had the good manners not to pursue the discussion if he seemed unwilling. But even as he said this, Jo could sense the well of sadness inside him, and the thought that he felt he didn't belong anywhere or to anyone cut her deeply. 
    "You ought to make an effort to go visit everywhere you are asked. Then, perhaps, you'll have plenty of friends and pleasant places to go. Never mind being bashful. It won't last long." 
    Laurie wasn't offended by Jo's forthright manner, for there was so much goodwill in her that it was impossible not to take her blunt speeches as kindly as they were meant. 
    "Do you like your school?" asked the boy, changing the subject after a brief pause during which he stared at the fire, and Jo looked all around her.  
    "I don't go to school," she answered. "I'm a business-man … business girl, I mean. I wait on my Aunt March, and a dear, cross old soul she is, too." 
    Laurie opened his mouth to ask a question, but remembering just in time that it wasn't polite manners to make too many inquiries into others' affairs, shut it again, content that Jo didn't probe too deeply into his family story, either. He found her freshness and openness charming and irresistible and might lower his guard and say more than he should if he wasn't careful.
    For her part, Jo liked his obvious good breeding, and she didn't mind having a laugh at Aunt March, so she gave him a lively description of the fidgety old lady, her fat poodle, the parrot that spoke Spanish, and the library where she reveled when Aunt March was napping. They got to talking about books, and to Jo's delight, she found that Laurie loved books as well as she did and had read even more than herself. 
    "If you like books so much, please come downstairs and see ours. Grandfather is out on business, so you needn't be afraid," said Laurie, getting up. He looked unsteady on his feet, and when he took a breath, Jo noticed a most unusual whistling sound, but she chose not to comment on it.
    "I'm not afraid of anything," Jo said with a toss of the head. 
    "I don't believe you are," exclaimed the boy, looking at her with much admiration, though he privately thought she would have good reason to be a trifle afraid of the old gentleman if she met him when in one of his moods. 

    Laurie led the way from room to room, letting Jo stop to examine whatever struck her fancy. And so, at last they came to the library, where she clapped her gloved hands as she always did when especially delighted. The walls were lined with books, and there were pictures and statues, and distracting little cabinets full of strange coins and other curiosities. There were Sleepy Hollow chairs, and queer tables, and bronzes, and—best of all—a great open fireplace with Italian tiles lined all round it. 
    "What richness," sighed Jo, sinking into the depth of a purple velour chair and gazing about her with an air of intense satisfaction. "Theodore Laurence, you ought to be the happiest boy in the world." 
    "A fellow can't live on books alone," said Laurie, shaking his head as he perched on a table opposite and regarded her with his curious golden eyes. In the dimness of the room,