【48】Chapter 23. Aunt March Settles The Question (2)

Now Aunt March possessed in perfection the art of rousing the spirit of opposition in the gentlest people, and enjoyed doing it. The best of us have a spice of perversity in us, especially when we are young and in love. If Aunt March had begged Meg to accept John Brooke, she would probably have declared she couldn’t think of it, but as she was preemptorily ordered not to like him, she immediately made up her mind that she would. Inclination as well as perversity made the decision easy, and being already much excited, Meg opposed the old lady with unusual spirit.

“I shall marry whom I please, Aunt March, and you can leave your money to anyone you like,” she said, nodding her head with a resolute air.

“Highty-tighty! Is that the way you take my advice, Miss? You’ll be sorry for it by-and-by, when you’ve tried love in a cottage and found it a failure.”

“It can’t be a worse one than some people find in big houses,” retorted Meg.

Aunt March put on her glasses and took a look at the girl, for she did not know her in this new mood. Meg hardly knew herself, she felt so brave and independent, so glad to defend John and assert her right to love him, if she liked. Aunt March saw that she had begun wrong, and after a little pause, made a fresh start, saying as mildly as she could, “Now, Meg, my dear, be reasonable and take my advice. I mean it kindly, and don’t want you to spoil your whole life by making a mistake at the beginning. You ought to marry well and help your family. It’s your duty to make a rich match and it ought to be impressed upon you.”

“Father and Mother don’t think so. They like John though he is poor.”

“Your parents, my dear, have no more worldly wisdom than a pair of babies.”

“I’m glad of it,” cried Meg stoutly.

Aunt March took no notice, but went on with her lecture. “This Rook is poor and hasn’t got any rich relations, has he?”

“No, but he has many warm friends.”

“You can’t live on friends, try it and see how cool they’ll grow. He hasn’t any business, has he?”

“Not yet. Mr. Laurence is going to help him.”

“That won’t last long. James Laurence is a crotchety old fellow and not to be depended on. So you intend to marry a man without money, position, or business, and go on working harder than you do now, when you might be comfortable all your days by minding me and doing better? I thought you had more sense, Meg.”

“I couldn’t do better if I waited half my life! John is good and wise, he’s got heaps of talent, he’s willing to work and sure to get on, he’s so energetic and brave. Everyone likes and respects him, and I’m proud to think he cares for me, though I’m so poor and young and silly,” said Meg, looking prettier than ever in her earnestness.

“He knows you have got rich relations, child. That’s the secret of his liking, I suspect.”

“Aunt March, how dare you say such a thing? John is above such meanness, and I won’t listen to you a minute if you talk so,” cried Meg indignantly, forgetting everything but the injustice of the old lady’s suspicions. “My John wouldn’t marry for money, any more than I would. We are willing to work and we mean to wait. I’m not afraid of being poor, for I’ve been happy so far, and I know I shall be with him because he loves me, and I...”

Meg stopped there, remembering all of a sudden that she hadn’t made up her mind, that she had told ‘her John’ to go away, and that he might be overhearing her inconsistent remarks.

Aunt March was very angry, for she had set her heart on having her pretty niece make a fine match, and something in the girl’s happy young face made the lonely old woman feel both sad and sour.

“Well, I wash my hands of the whole affair! You are a willful child, and you’ve lost more than you know by this piece of folly. No, I won’t stop. I’m disappointed in you, and haven’t spirits to see your father now. Don’t expect anything from me when you are married. Your Mr. Brooke’s friends must take care of you. I’m done with you forever.”

And slamming the door in Meg’s face, Aunt March drove off in high dudgeon. She seemed to take all the girl’s courage with her, for when left alone, Meg stood for a moment, undecided whether to laugh or cry. Before she could make up her mind, she was taken possession of by Mr. Brooke, who said all in one breath, “I couldn’t help hearing, Meg. Thank you for defending me, and Aunt March for proving that you do care for me a little bit.”

“I didn’t know how much till she abused you,” began Meg.

“And I needn’t go away, but may stay and be happy, may I, dear?”

Here was another fine chance to make the crushing speech and the stately exit, but Meg never thought of doing either, and disgraced herself forever in Jo’s eyes by meekly whispering, “Yes, John,” and hiding her face on Mr. Brooke’s waistcoat.

Fifteen minutes after Aunt March’s departure, Jo came softly downstairs, paused an instant at the parlor door, and hearing no sound within, nodded and smiled with a satisfied expression, saying to herself, “She has seen him away as we planned, and that affair is settled. I’ll go and hear the fun, and have a good laugh over it.”

But poor Jo never got her laugh, for she was transfixed upon the threshold by a spectacle which held her there, staring with her mouth nearly as wide open as her eyes. Going in to exult over a fallen enemy and to praise a strong-minded sister for the banishment of an objectionable lover, it certainly was a shock to behold the aforesaid enemy serenely sitting on the sofa, with the strongminded sister enthroned upon his knee and wearing an expression of the most abject submission. Jo gave a sort of gasp, as if a cold shower bath had suddenly fallen upon her, for such an unexpected turning of the tables actually took her breath away. At the odd sound the lovers turned and saw her. Meg jumped up, looking both proud and shy, but ‘that man’, as Jo called him, actually laughed and said coolly, as he kissed the astonished newcomer, “Sister Jo, congratulate us!”

That was adding insult to injury, it was altogether too much, and making some wild demonstration with her hands, Jo vanished without a word. Rushing upstairs, she startled the invalids by exclaiming tragically as she burst into the room, “Oh, do somebody go down quick! John Brooke is acting dreadfully, and Meg likes it!”

Mr. and Mrs. March left the room with speed, and casting herself upon the bed, Jo cried and scolded tempestuously as she told the awful news to Beth and Amy. The little girls, however, considered it a most agreeable and interesting event, and Jo got little comfort from them, so she went up to her refuge in the garret, and confided her troubles to the rats.

Nobody ever knew what went on in the parlor that afternoon, but a great deal of talking was done, and quiet Mr. Brooke astonished his friends by the eloquence and spirit with which he pleaded his suit, told his plans, and persuaded them to arrange everything just as he wanted it.

The tea bell rang before he had finished describing the paradise which he meant to earn for Meg, and he proudly took her in to supper, both looking so happy that Jo hadn’t the heart to be jealous or dismal. Amy was very much impressed by John’s devotion and Meg’s dignity, Beth beamed at them from a distance, while Mr. and Mrs. March surveyed the young couple with such tender satisfaction that it was perfectly evident Aunt March was right in calling them as ‘unworldly as a pair of babies’. No one ate much, but everyone looked very happy, and the old room seemed to brighten up amazingly when the first romance of the family began there.

“You can’t say nothing pleasant ever happens now, can you, Meg?” said Amy, trying to decide how she would group the lovers in a sketch she was planning to make.

“No, I’m sure I can’t. How much has happened since I said that! It seems a year ago,” answered Meg, who was in a blissful dream lifted far above such common things as bread and butter.

“The joys come close upon the sorrows this time, and I rather think the changes have begun,” said Mrs. March. “In most families there comes, now and then, a year full of events. This has been such a one, but it ends well, after all.”

“Hope the next will end better,” muttered Jo, who found it very hard to see Meg absorbed in a stranger before her face, for Jo loved a few persons very dearly and dreaded to have their affection lost or lessened in any way.

“I hope the third year from this will end better. I mean it shall, if I live to work out my plans,” said Mr. Brooke, smiling at Meg, as if everything had become possible to him now.

“Doesn’t it seem very long to wait?” asked Amy, who was in a hurry for the wedding.

“I’ve got so much to learn before I shall be ready, it seems a short time to me,” answered Meg, with a sweet gravity in her face never seen there before.

“You have only to wait, I am to do the work,” said John beginning his labors by picking up Meg’s napkin, with an expression which caused Jo to shake her head, and then say to herself with an air of relief as the front door banged, “Here comes Laurie. Now we shall have some sensible conversation.”

But Jo was mistaken, for Laurie came prancing in, overflowing with good spirits, bearing a great bridal-looking bouquet for ‘Mrs. John Brooke’, and evidently laboring under the delusion that the whole affair had been brought about by his excellent management.

“I knew Brooke would have it all his own way, he always does, for when he makes up his mind to accomplish anything, it’s done though the sky falls,” said Laurie, when he had presented his offering and his congratulations.

“Much obliged for that recommendation. I take it as a good omen for the future and invite you to my wedding on the spot,” answered Mr. Brooke, who felt at peace with all mankind, even his mischievous pupil.

“I’ll come if I’m at the ends of the earth, for the sight of Jo’s face alone on that occasion would be worth a long journey. You don’t look festive, ma’am, what’s the matter?” asked Laurie, following her into a corner of the parlor, whither all had adjourned to greet Mr. Laurence.

“I don’t approve of the match, but I’ve made up my mind to bear it, and shall not say a word against it,” said Jo solemnly. “You can’t know how hard it is for me to give up Meg,” she continued with a little quiver in her voice.

“You don’t give her up. You only go halves,” said Laurie consolingly.

“It can never be the same again. I’ve lost my dearest friend,” sighed Jo.

“You’ve got me, anyhow. I’m not good for much, I know, but I’ll stand by you, Jo, all the days of my life. Upon my word I will!” and Laurie meant what he said.

“I know you will, and I’m ever so much obliged. You are always a great comfort to me, Teddy,” returned Jo, gratefully shaking hands.

“Well, now, don’t be dismal, there’s a good fellow. It’s all right you see. Meg is happy, Brooke will fly round and get settled immediately, Grandpa will attend to him, and it will be very jolly to see Meg in her own little house. We’ll have capital times after she is gone, for I shall be through college before long, and then we’ll go abroad on some nice trip or other. Wouldn’t that console you?”

“I rather think it would, but there’s no knowing what may happen in three years,” said Jo thoughtfully.

“That’s true. Don’t you wish you could take a look forward and see where we shall all be then? I do,” returned Laurie.

“I think not, for I might see something sad, and everyone looks so happy now, I don’t believe they could be much improved.” And Jo’s eyes went slowly round the room, brightening as they looked, for the prospect was a pleasant one.

Father and Mother sat together, quietly reliving the first chapter of the romance which for them began some twenty years ago. Amy was drawing the lovers, who sat apart in a beautiful world of their own, the light of which touched their faces with a grace the little artist could not copy. Beth lay on her sofa, talking cheerily with her old friend, who held her little hand as if he felt that it possessed the power to lead him along the peaceful way she walked. Jo lounged in her favorite low seat, with the grave quiet look which best became her, and Laurie, leaning on the back of her chair, his chin on a level with her curly head, smiled with his friendliest aspect, and nodded at her in the long glass which reflected them both.

So the curtain falls upon Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy. Whether it ever rises again, depends upon the reception given the first act of the domestic drama called Little Women.