Anything more wheedlesome than that touching appeal was seldom heard, but Jo quenched “her boy” by turning on him with the stern query—
“How many bouquets have you sent Miss Randal this week?”
“Not one, upon my word. She’s engaged. Now then.”
“I’m glad of it; that’s one of your foolish extravagances—sending flowers and things to girls for whom you don’t care two pins,” continued Jo reprovingly.
“Sensible girls, for whom I do care whole papers of pins, won’t let me send them ‘flowers and things,’ so what can I do? My feelings must have a went .”
“Mother doesn’t approve of flirting, even in fun; and you do flirt desperately, Teddy.”
“I’d give anything if I could answer, ‘So do you.’ As I can’t, I’ll merely say that I don’t see any harm in that pleasant little game, if all parties understand that it’s only play.”
“Well, it does look pleasant, but I can’t learn how it’s done. I’ve tried, because one feels awkward in company, not to do as everybody else is doing; but I don’t seem to get on,” said Jo, forgetting to play Mentor.
“Take lessons of Amy; she has a regular talent for it.”
“Yes, she does it very prettily, and never seems to go too far. I suppose it’s natural to some people to please without trying, and others to always say and do the wrong thing in the wrong place.”
“I’m glad you can’t flirt; it’s really refreshing to see a sensible, straightforward girl, who can be jolly and kind without making a fool of