PREVIOUSLY: Laurie and Jo had a private dance in the hallway of Mrs. Gardiner’s house. Meg sprained her ankle!
“They are going out to supper now, I’ll stay with you; I’d rather.”
“No, dear; run along, and bring me some coffee. I’m so tired, I can’t stir.”
So Meg reclined, with the rubbers well hidden, and Jo went blundering away to the dining-room, which she found after going into a china-closet and opening the door of a room where old Mr. Gardiner 1 was taking a little private refreshment. Making a dive at the table, she secured the coffee, which she immediately spilt, thereby making the front of her dress as bad as the back.
“Oh dear! What a blunderbuss 2 I am!” exclaimed Jo, finishing Meg’s glove by scrubbing her gown with it.
“Can I help you?” said a friendly voice; and there was Laurie, with a full cup in one hand and a plate of ice 3 in the other.
“I was trying to get something for Meg, who is very tired, and some one shook me, and here I am, in a nice state,” answered Jo, glancing, dismally, from the stained skirt to the coffee-colored glove.
“Too bad! I was looking for some one to give this to; may I take it to your sister?”
“Oh, thank you; I’ll show you where she is. I don’t offer to take it myself, for I should only get into another scrape if I did.”
I was looking for some one to give this to; may I take it to your sister?
Jo led the way; and, as if used to waiting on ladies, Laurie drew up a little table, brought a second instalment of coffee and ice for Jo, and was so obliging that even particular Meg pronounced him a “nice boy.”
They had a merry time over the bonbons and mottos 4, and were in the midst of a quiet game of “buzz”5 with two or three other young people who had strayed in, when Hannah appeared. Meg forgot her foot, and rose so quickly that she was forced to catch hold of Jo, with an exclamation of pain.
“Hush! Don’t say anything,” she whispered; adding aloud, “It’s nothing; I turned my foot a little, - that’s all,” and limped up stairs to put her things on.
Hannah scolded, Meg cried, and Jo was at her wits’ end, till she decided to take things into her own hands. Slipping out, she ran down, and finding a servant, asked if he could get her a carriage.
1 Tip for life: If we call every guy “Old Man _____,” it devalues the thrill of seeing an actual old man.
2 The blunderbuss itself was the name for a type of proto-shotgun, so one can assume the use by Jo here refers to the idea of spraying things everywhere in a destructive manner.
3 Ice cream? Sno-cone? Dessert. Who gives a shit.
4 Best as I can tell, a colloquial term for a polite 1800s version of “Truth or Dare.” If you fail a “dare” I think you’re supposed to deliver a ‘motto’ or piece of good advice? idk you all read this and report back to me.
5 However much math you think this game involves, take that number and triple it. Everyone say thank you to historicalgames dot neocities dot org!