“It’s all a mistake⁠—he didn’t send it. O Jo, how could you do it?” and Meg hid her face in her hands, crying as if her heart was quite broken.

“Me! I’ve done nothing! What’s she talking about?” cried Jo, bewildered.

Meg’s mild eyes kindled with anger as she pulled a crumpled note from her pocket, and threw it at Jo, saying reproachfully⁠—

“You wrote it, and that bad boy helped you. How could you be so rude, so mean, and cruel to us both?”

Jo hardly heard her, for she and her mother were reading the note, which was written in a peculiar hand.