“I do like them, and I shall be one if I can; for in spite of the laughing, the world would never get on without them. We can’t agree about that, for you belong to the old set, and I to the new: you will get on the best, but I shall have the liveliest time of it. I should rather enjoy the brickbats and hooting, I think.”
“Well, compose yourself now, and don’t worry aunt with your new ideas.”
“I’ll try not to, but I’m always possessed to burst out with some particularly blunt speech or revolutionary sentiment before her; it’s my doom, and I can’t help it.”
They found Aunt Carrol with the old lady, both absorbed in some very interesting subject; but they dropped it as the girls came in, with a conscious look which betrayed that they had been talking about their nieces. Jo was not in a good humor, and the perverse fit returned; but Amy, who had virtuously done her duty, kept her temper, and pleased everybody, was in a most angelic frame of mind. This amiable spirit was felt at once, and both the aunts “my deared” her affectionately, looking what they afterwards said emphatically—“That child improves every day.”
“Are you going to help about the fair, dear?” asked Mrs. Carrol, as Amy sat down beside her with the confiding air elderly people like so well in the young.
“Yes, aunt. Mrs. Chester asked me if I would, and I offered to tend a table, as I have nothing but my time to give.”