I was to finish the crayon of Beth for you, and you were to go properly with me
I was to finish the crayon of Beth for you, and you were to go properly with me, and return our neighbor’s visits.”
“If it was fair—that was in the bond; and I stand to the letter of my bond, Shylock. There is a pile of clouds in the east; it’s not fair, and I don’t go.”
“Now that’s shirking. It’s a lovely day, no prospect of rain, and you pride yourself on keeping promises; so be honorable; come and do your duty, and then be at peace for another six months.”
At that minute Jo was particularly absorbed in dressmaking; for she was mantua-maker general to the family, and took especial credit to herself because she could use a needle as well as a pen. It was very provoking to be arrested in the act of a first trying-on, and ordered out to make calls in her best array, on a warm July day. She hated calls of the formal sort, and never made any till Amy cornered her with a bargain, bribe, or promise. In the present instance, there was no escape; and having clashed her scissors rebelliously, while protesting that she smelt thunder, she gave in, put away her work, and taking up her hat and gloves with an air of resignation, told Amy the victim was ready.
“Jo March, you are perverse enough to provoke a saint! You don’t intend to make calls in that state, I hope,” cried Amy, surveying her with amazement.
“Why not? I’m neat, and cool, and comfortable; quite proper for a dusty walk on a warm day. If people care more for my clothes than they do for me, I don’t wish to see them. You can dress for both, and be as elegant as you please; it pays for you to be fine; it doesn’t for me, and furbelows only worry me.”
“Oh dear!” sighed Amy; “now she’s in a contrary fit, and will drive me distracted before I can get her properly ready. I’m sure it’s no pleasure to me to go to-day, but it’s a debt we owe society, and there’s no one to pay it but you and me. I’ll do anything for you, Jo, if you’ll only dress yourself nicely, and come and help me do the civil. You can talk so well, look so aristocratic in your best things, and behave so beautifully, if you try, that I’m proud of you. I’m afraid to go alone; do come and take care of me.”
“You’re an artful little puss to flatter and wheedle your cross old sister in that way. The idea of my being aristocratic and well-bred, and your being afraid to go anywhere alone! I don’t know which is the most absurd. Well, I’ll go if I must, and do my best; you shall be commander of the expedition, and I’ll obey blindly; will that satisfy you?” said Jo, with a sudden change from perversity to lamb-like submission.
“You’re a perfect cherub! Now put on all your best things, and I’ll tell you how to behave at each place, so that you will make a good impression. Take your light kids and the embroidered handkerchief. We’ll stop at Meg’s, and borrow her white sun-shade, and then you can have my dove-colored one.”
While Amy dressed, she issued her orders, and Jo obeyed them; not without entering her protest, however, for she sighed as she r