<p class="h2"><SPAN name="XXX" id="XXX"></SPAN>XXX.</p>
<p class="h2a">CONSEQUENCES.</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Chester's</span> fair was so very elegant and select that it was
considered a great honor by the young ladies of the neighborhood to
be invited to take a table, and every one was much interested in the
matter. Amy was asked, but Jo was not, which was fortunate for all
parties, as her elbows were decidedly akimbo at this period of her life,
and it took a good many hard knocks to teach her how to get on
easily. The "haughty, uninteresting creature" was let severely alone;
but Amy's talent and taste were duly complimented by the offer of the
art-table, and she exerted herself to prepare and secure appropriate
and valuable contributions to it.</p>
<p class="indent">Everything went on smoothly till the day before the fair opened;
then there occurred one of the little skirmishes which it is almost impossible
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 366]</span>
to avoid, when some five and twenty women, old and young,
with all their private piques and prejudices, try to work together.</p>
<p class="indent">May Chester was rather jealous of Amy because the latter was a
greater favorite than herself, and, just at this time, several trifling
circumstances occurred to increase the feeling. Amy's dainty pen-and-ink
work entirely eclipsed May's painted vases,—that was one
thorn; then the all-conquering Tudor had danced four times with
Amy, at a late party, and only once with May,—that was thorn number
two; but the chief grievance that rankled in her soul, and gave
her an excuse for her unfriendly conduct, was a rumor which some
obliging gossip had whispered to her, that the March girls had made
fun of her at the Lambs'. All the blame of this should have fallen
upon Jo, for her naughty imitation had been too lifelike to escape
detection, and the frolicsome Lambs had permitted the joke to escape.
No hint of this had reached the culprits, however, and Amy's dismay
can be imagined, when, the very evening before the fair, as she was
putting the last touches to her pretty table, Mrs. Chester, who, of
course, resented the supposed ridicule of her daughter, said, in a bland
tone, but with a cold look,—</p>
<p class="indent">"I find, dear, that there is some feeling among the young ladies
about my giving this table to any one but my girls. As this is the
most prominent, and some say the most attractive table of all, and
they are the chief getters-up of the fair, it is thought best for them to
take this place. I'm sorry, but I know you are too sincerely interested
in the cause to mind a little personal disappointment, and you
shall have another table if you like."</p>
<p class="indent">Mrs. Chester had fancied beforehand that it would be easy to
deliver this little speech; but when the time came, she found it rather
difficult to utter it naturally, with Amy's unsuspicious eyes looking
straight at her, full of surprise and trouble.</p>
<p class="indent">Amy felt that there was something behind this, but could not guess
what, and said quietly, feeling hurt, and showing that she did,—</p>
<p class="indent">"Perhaps you had rather I took no table at all?"</p>
<p class="indent">"Now, my dear, don't have any ill feeling, I beg; it's merely a
matter of expediency, you see; my girls will naturally take the lead,
and this table is considered their proper place. <i>I</i> think it very appropriate
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 367]</span>
to you, and feel very grateful for your efforts to make it so
pretty; but we must give up our private wishes, of course, and I will
see that you have a good place elsewhere. Wouldn't you like the
flower-table? The little girls undertook it, but they are discouraged.
You could make a charming thing of it, and the flower-table is always
attractive, you know."</p>
<p class="indent">"Especially to gentlemen," added May, with a look which enlightened
Amy as to one cause of her sudden fall from favor. She
colored angrily, but took no other notice of that girlish sarcasm, and
answered, with unexpected amiability,—</p>
<p class="indent">"It shall be as you please, Mrs. Chester. I'll give up my place
here at once, and attend to the flowers, if you like."</p>
<p class="indent">"You can put your own things on your own table, if you prefer,"
began May, feeling a little conscience-stricken, as she looked at the
pretty racks, the painted shells, and quaint illuminations Amy had so
carefully made and so gracefully arranged. She meant it kindly, but
Amy mistook her meaning, and said quickly,—</p>
<p class="indent">"Oh, certainly, if they are in your way;" and sweeping her contributions
into her apron, pell-mell, she walked off, feeling that
herself and her works of art had been insulted past forgiveness.</p>
<p class="indent">"Now she's mad. Oh, dear, I wish I hadn't asked you to speak,
mamma," said May, looking disconsolately at the empty spaces on her
table.</p>
<p class="indent">"Girls' quarrels are soon over," returned her mother, feeling a trifle
ashamed of her own part in this one, as well she might.</p>
<p class="indent">The little girls hailed Amy and her treasures with delight, which
cordial reception somewhat soothed her perturbed spirit, and she fell
to work, determined to succeed florally, if she could not artistically.
But everything seemed against her: it was late, and she was tired;
every one was too busy with their own affairs to help her; and the
little girls were only hindrances, for the dears fussed and chattered
like so many magpies, making a great deal of confusion in their artless
efforts to preserve the most perfect order. The evergreen arch
wouldn't stay firm after she got it up, but wiggled and threatened to
tumble down on her head when the hanging baskets were filled; her
best tile got a splash of water, which left a sepia tear on the Cupid's
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 368]</span>
cheek; she bruised her hands with hammering, and got cold working
in a draught, which last affliction filled her with apprehensions for the
morrow. Any girl-reader who has suffered like afflictions will sympathize
with poor Amy, and wish her well through with her task.</p>
<p class="indent">There was great indignation at home when she told her story that
evening. Her mother said it was a shame, but told her she had done
right; Beth declared she wouldn't go to the fair at all; and Jo demanded
why she didn't take all her pretty things and leave those mean
people to get on without her.</p>
<p class="indent">"Because they are mean is no reason why I should be. I hate
such things, and though I think I've a right to be hurt, I don't
intend to show it. They will feel that more than angry speeches or
huffy actions, won't they, Marmee?"</p>
<p class="indent">"That's the right spirit, my dear; a kiss for a blow is always best,
though it's not very easy to give it sometimes," said her mother, with
the air of one who had learned the difference between preaching and
practising.</p>
<p class="indent">In spite of various very natural temptations to resent and retaliate,
Amy adhered to her resolution all the next day, bent on conquering her
enemy by kindness. She began well, thanks to a silent reminder that
came to her unexpectedly, but most opportunely. As she arranged
her table that morning, while the little girls were in an ante-room filling
the baskets, she took up her pet production,—a little book, the
antique cover of which her father had found among his treasures, and
in which, on leaves of vellum, she had beautifully illuminated different
texts. As she turned the pages, rich in dainty devices, with very pardonable
pride, her eye fell upon one verse that made her stop and
think. Framed in a brilliant scroll-work of scarlet, blue, and gold,
with little spirits of good-will helping one another up and down
among the thorns and flowers, were the words, "Thou shalt love thy
neighbor as thyself."</p>
<p class="indent">"I ought, but I don't," thought Amy, as her eye went from the
bright page to May's discontented face behind the big vases, that
could not hide the vacancies her pretty work had once filled. Amy
stood a minute, turning the leaves in her hand, reading on each some
sweet rebuke for all heart-burnings and uncharitableness of spirit.
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 369]</span>
Many wise and true sermons are preached us every day by unconscious
ministers in street, school, office, or home; even a fair-table
may become a pulpit, if it can offer the good and helpful words which
are never out of season. Amy's conscience preached her a little sermon
from that text, then and there; and she did what many of us do
not always do,—took the sermon to heart, and straightway put it in
practice.</p>
<p class="indent">A group of girls were standing about May's table, admiring the
pretty things, and talking over the change of saleswomen. They
dropped their voices, but Amy knew they were speaking of her, hearing
one side of the story, and judging accordingly. It was not
pleasant, but a better spirit had come over her, and presently a chance
offered for proving it. She heard May say sorrowfully,—</p>
<p class="indent">"It's too bad, for there is no time to make other things, and I
don't want to fill up with odds and ends. The table was just complete
then: now it's spoilt."</p>
<p class="indent">"I dare say she'd put them back if you asked her," suggested some
one.</p>
<p class="indent">"How could I after all the fuss?" began May, but she did not
finish, for Amy's voice came across the hall, saying pleasantly,—</p>
<p class="indent">"You may have them, and welcome, without asking, if you want
them. I was just thinking I'd offer to put them back, for they belong
to your table rather than mine. Here they are; please take them,
and forgive me if I was hasty in carrying them away last night."</p>
<p class="indent">As she spoke, Amy returned her contribution, with a nod and a smile,
and hurried away again, feeling that it was easier to do a friendly
thing than it was to stay and be thanked for it.</p>
<p class="indent">"Now, I call that lovely of her, don't you?" cried one girl.</p>
<p class="indent">May's answer was inaudible; but another young lady, whose temper
was evidently a little soured by making lemonade, added, with a disagreeable
laugh, "Very lovely; for she knew she wouldn't sell them at
her own table."</p>
<p class="indent">Now, that was hard; when we make little sacrifices we like to have
them appreciated, at least; and for a minute Amy was sorry she had
done it, feeling that virtue was not always its own reward. But it
is,—as she presently discovered; for her spirits began to rise, and
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 370]</span>
her table to blossom under her skilful hands; the girls were very
kind, and that one little act seemed to have cleared the atmosphere
amazingly.</p>
<p class="indent">It was a very long day, and a hard one to Amy, as she sat behind
her table, often quite alone, for the little girls deserted very soon: few
cared to buy flowers in summer, and her bouquets began to droop long
before night.</p>
<p class="indent">The art-table <i>was</i> the most attractive in the room; there was a
crowd about it all day long, and the tenders were constantly flying to
and fro with important faces and rattling money-boxes. Amy often
looked wistfully across, longing to be there, where she felt at home
and happy, instead of in a corner with nothing to do. It might seem
no hardship to some of us; but to a pretty, blithe young girl, it was
not only tedious, but very trying; and the thought of being found
there in the evening by her family, and Laurie and his friends, made
it a real martyrdom.</p>
<p class="indent">She did not go home till night, and then she looked so pale and
quiet that they knew the day had been a hard one, though she
made no complaint, and did not even tell what she had done. Her
mother gave her an extra cordial cup of tea, Beth helped her dress,
and made a charming little wreath for her hair, while Jo astonished
her family by getting herself up with unusual care, and hinting darkly
that the tables were about to be turned.</p>
<p class="indent">"Don't do anything rude, pray, Jo. I won't have any fuss made,
so let it all pass, and behave yourself," begged Amy, as she departed
early, hoping to find a reinforcement of flowers to refresh her poor
little table.</p>
<p class="indent">"I merely intend to make myself entrancingly agreeable to every
one I know, and to keep them in your corner as long as possible.
Teddy and his boys will lend a hand, and we'll have a good time
yet," returned Jo, leaning over the gate to watch for Laurie. Presently
the familiar tramp was heard in the dusk, and she ran out to
meet him.</p>
<p class="indent">"Is that my boy?"</p>
<p class="indent">"As sure as this is my girl!" and Laurie tucked her hand under
his arm, with the air of a man whose every wish was gratified.</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 371]</span>
"O Teddy, such doings!" and Jo told Amy's wrongs with sisterly
zeal.</p>
<p class="indent">"A flock of our fellows are going to drive over by and by, and I'll
be hanged if I don't make them buy every flower she's got, and camp
down before her table afterward," said Laurie, espousing her cause
with warmth.</p>
<p class="indent">"The flowers are not at all nice, Amy says, and the fresh ones may
not arrive in time. I don't wish to be unjust or suspicious, but I
shouldn't wonder if they never came at all. When people do one
mean thing they are very likely to do another," observed Jo, in a
disgusted tone.</p>
<p class="indent">"Didn't Hayes give you the best out of our gardens? I told him
to."</p>
<p class="indent">"I didn't know that; he forgot, I suppose; and, as your grandpa
was poorly, I didn't like to worry him by asking, though I did want
some."</p>
<p class="indent">"Now, Jo, how could you think there was any need of asking!
They are just as much yours as mine. Don't we always go halves in
everything?" began Laurie, in the tone that always made Jo turn
thorny.</p>
<p class="indent">"Gracious, I hope not! half of some of your things wouldn't suit
me at all. But we mustn't stand philandering here; I've got to help
Amy, so you go and make yourself splendid; and if you'll be so very
kind as to let Hayes take a few nice flowers up to the Hall, I'll bless
you forever."</p>
<p class="indent">"Couldn't you do it now?" asked Laurie, so suggestively that Jo
shut the gate in his face with inhospitable haste, and called through
the bars, "Go away, Teddy; I'm busy."</p>
<p class="indent">Thanks to the conspirators, the tables <i>were</i> turned that night; for
Hayes sent up a wilderness of flowers, with a lovely basket, arranged
in his best manner, for a centre-piece; then the March family turned
out <i>en masse</i>, and Jo exerted herself to some purpose, for people not
only came, but stayed, laughing at her nonsense, admiring Amy's taste,
and apparently enjoying themselves very much. Laurie and his
friends gallantly threw themselves into the breach, bought up the bouquets,
encamped before the table, and made that corner the liveliest
<span class="pagenum">[Pg 372]</span>
spot in the room. Amy was in her element now, and, out of gratitude,
if nothing more, was as sprightly and gracious as possible,—coming
to the conclusion, about that time, that virtue <i>was</i> its own
reward, after all.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="b140.png" id="b140.png"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/b140.png" width-obs="530" height-obs="400" alt="Bought up the bouquets" title="Bought up the bouquets" /></div>
<p class="indent">Jo behaved herself with exemplary propriety; and when Amy was
happily surrounded by her guard of honor, Jo circulated about the
hall, picking up various bits of gossip, which enlightened her upon
the subject of the Chester change of base. She reproached herself
for her share of the ill-feeling, and resolved to exonerate Amy as soon
as possible; she also discovered what Amy had done about the things
in the morning, and considered her a model of magnanimity. As she
passed the art-table, she glanced over it for her sister's things, but saw
no signs of them. "Tucked away out of sight, I dare say," thought
Jo, who could forgive her own wrongs, but hotly resented any insult
offered to her family.</p>
<p class="indent">"Good evening, Miss Jo. How does Amy get on?" asked May,
with a conciliatory air, for she wanted to show that she also could
be generous.</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 373]</span>
"She has sold everything she had that was worth selling, and now
she is enjoying herself. The flower-table is always attractive, you
know, 'especially to gentlemen.'"</p>
<p class="indent">Jo <i>couldn't</i> resist giving that little slap, but May took it so meekly
she regretted it a minute after, and fell to praising the great vases,
which still remained unsold.</p>
<p class="indent">"Is Amy's illumination anywhere about? I took a fancy to buy
that for father," said Jo, very anxious to learn the fate of her sister's
work.</p>
<p class="indent">"Everything of Amy's sold long ago; I took care that the right
people saw them, and they made a nice little sum of money for us,"
returned May, who had overcome sundry small temptations, as well as
Amy, that day.</p>
<p class="indent">Much gratified, Jo rushed back to tell the good news; and Amy
looked both touched and surprised by the report of May's words and
manner.</p>
<p class="indent">"Now, gentlemen, I want you to go and do your duty by the other
tables as generously as you have by mine—especially the art-table,"
she said, ordering out "Teddy's Own," as the girls called the college
friends.</p>
<p class="indent">"'Charge, Chester, charge!' is the motto for that table; but do
your duty like men, and you'll get your money's worth of <i>art</i> in every
sense of the word," said the irrepressible Jo, as the devoted phalanx
prepared to take the field.</p>
<p class="indent">"To hear is to obey, but March is fairer far than May," said little
Parker, making a frantic effort to be both witty and tender, and getting
promptly quenched by Laurie, who said, "Very well, my son,
for a small boy!" and walked him off, with a paternal pat on the
head.</p>
<p class="indent">"Buy the vases," whispered Amy to Laurie, as a final heaping of
coals of fire on her enemy's head.</p>
<p class="indent">To May's great delight, Mr. Laurence not only bought the vases,
but pervaded the hall with one under each arm. The other gentlemen
speculated with equal rashness in all sorts of frail trifles, and
wandered helplessly about afterward, burdened with wax flowers,
painted fans, filigree portfolios, and other useful and appropriate
purchases.</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 374]</span>
Aunt Carrol was there, heard the story, looked pleased, and said
something to Mrs. March in a corner, which made the latter lady beam
with satisfaction, and watch Amy with a face full of mingled pride
and anxiety, though she did not betray the cause of her pleasure till
several days later.</p>
<p class="indent">The fair was pronounced a success; and when May bade Amy good
night, she did not "gush" as usual, but gave her an affectionate kiss,
and a look which said, "Forgive and forget." That satisfied Amy;
and when she got home she found the vases paraded on the parlor
chimney-piece, with a great bouquet in each. "The reward of merit
for a magnanimous March," as Laurie announced with a flourish.</p>
<p class="indent">"You've a deal more principle and generosity and nobleness of
character than I ever gave you credit for, Amy. You've behaved
sweetly, and I respect you with all my heart," said Jo warmly, as they
brushed their hair together late that night.</p>
<p class="indent">"Yes, we all do, and love her for being so ready to forgive. It
must have been dreadfully hard, after working so long, and setting
your heart on selling your own pretty things. I don't believe I could
have done it as kindly as you did," added Beth from her pillow.</p>
<p class="indent">"Why, girls, you needn't praise me so; I only did as I'd be done
by. You laugh at me when I say I want to be a lady, but I mean
a true gentlewoman in mind and manners, and I try to do it as
far as I know how. I can't explain exactly, but I want to be above
the little meannesses and follies and faults that spoil so many
women. I'm far from it now, but I do my best, and hope in time to
be what mother is."</p>
<p class="indent">Amy spoke earnestly, and Jo said, with a cordial hug,—</p>
<p class="indent">"I understand now what you mean, and I'll never laugh at you
again. You are getting on faster than you think, and I'll take lessons
of you in true politeness, for you've learned the secret, I believe.
Try away, deary; you'll get your reward some day, and no one will be
more delighted than I shall."</p>
<p class="indent">A week later Amy did get her reward, and poor Jo found it hard
to be delighted. A letter came from Aunt Carrol, and Mrs. March's
face was illuminated to such a degree, when she read it, that Jo and
Beth, who were with her, demanded what the glad tidings were.</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 375]</span>
"Aunt Carrol is going abroad next month, and wants—"</p>
<p class="indent">"Me to go with her!" burst in Jo, flying out of her chair in an
uncontrollable rapture.</p>
<p class="indent">"No, dear, not you; it's Amy."</p>
<p class="indent">"O mother! she's too young; it's my turn first. I've wanted
it so long—it would do me so much good, and be so altogether splendid—I
<i>must</i> go."</p>
<p class="indent">"I'm afraid it's impossible, Jo. Aunt says Amy, decidedly, and it
is not for us to dictate when she offers such a favor."</p>
<p class="indent">"It's always so. Amy has all the fun and I have all the work. It
isn't fair, oh, it isn't fair!" cried Jo passionately.</p>
<p class="indent">"I'm afraid it is partly your own fault, dear. When Aunt spoke to
me the other day, she regretted your blunt manners and too independent
spirit; and here she writes, as if quoting something you had
said,—'I planned at first to ask Jo; but as "favors burden her," and
she "hates French," I think I won't venture to invite her. Amy is
more docile, will make a good companion for Flo, and receive gratefully
any help the trip may give her.'"</p>
<p class="indent">"Oh, my tongue, my abominable tongue! why can't I learn to
keep it quiet?" groaned Jo, remembering words which had been her
undoing. When she had heard the explanation of the quoted phrases,
Mrs. March said sorrowfully,—</p>
<p class="indent">"I wish you could have gone, but there is no hope of it this time;
so try to bear it cheerfully, and don't sadden Amy's pleasure by reproaches
or regrets."</p>
<p class="indent">"I'll try," said Jo, winking hard, as she knelt down to pick up the
basket she had joyfully upset. "I'll take a leaf out of her book, and
try not only to seem glad, but to be so, and not grudge her one minute
of happiness; but it won't be easy, for it is a dreadful disappointment;"
and poor Jo bedewed the little fat pincushion she held
with several very bitter tears.</p>
<p class="indent">"Jo, dear, I'm very selfish, but I couldn't spare you, and I'm glad
you are not going quite yet," whispered Beth, embracing her, basket
and all, with such a clinging touch and loving face, that Jo felt comforted
in spite of the sharp regret that made her want to box her own
ears, and humbly beg Aunt Carrol to burden her with this favor, and
see how gratefully she would bear it.</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 376]</span>
By the time Amy came in, Jo was able to take her part in the family
jubilation; not quite as heartily as usual, perhaps, but without
repinings at Amy's good fortune. The young lady herself received the
news as tidings of great joy, went about in a solemn sort of rapture,
and began to sort her colors and pack her pencils that evening, leaving
such trifles as clothes, money, and passports to those less
absorbed in visions of art than herself.</p>
<p class="indent">"It isn't a mere pleasure trip to me, girls," she said impressively,
as she scraped her best palette. "It will decide my career; for if I
have any genius, I shall find it out in Rome, and will do something
to prove it."</p>
<p class="indent">"Suppose you haven't?" said Jo, sewing away, with red eyes, at
the new collars which were to be handed over to Amy.</p>
<p class="indent">"Then I shall come home and teach drawing for my living," replied
the aspirant for fame, with philosophic composure; but she made a
wry face at the prospect, and scratched away at her palette as if bent
on vigorous measures before she gave up her hopes.</p>
<p class="indent">"No, you won't; you hate hard work, and you'll marry some rich
man, and come home to sit in the lap of luxury all your days,"
said Jo.</p>
<p class="indent">"Your predictions sometimes come to pass, but I don't believe that
one will. I'm sure I wish it would, for if I can't be an artist myself,
I should like to be able to help those who are," said Amy, smiling, as
if the part of Lady Bountiful would suit her better than that of a poor
drawing-teacher.</p>
<p class="indent">"Hum!" said Jo, with a sigh; "if you wish it you'll have it, for
your wishes are always granted—mine never."</p>
<p class="indent">"Would you like to go?" asked Amy, thoughtfully patting her
nose with her knife.</p>
<p class="indent">"Rather!"</p>
<p class="indent">"Well, in a year or two I'll send for you, and we'll dig in the
Forum for relics, and carry out all the plans we've made so many
times."</p>
<p class="indent">"Thank you; I'll remind you of your promise when that joyful
day comes, if it ever does," returned Jo, accepting the vague but
magnificent offer as gratefully as she could.</p>
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 377]</span>
There was not much time for preparation, and the house was in a
ferment till Amy was off. Jo bore up very well till the last flutter of
blue ribbon vanished, when she retired to her refuge, the garret, and
cried till she couldn't cry any more. Amy likewise bore up stoutly
till the steamer sailed; then, just as the gangway was about to be
withdrawn, it suddenly came over her that a whole ocean was soon to
roll between her and those who loved her best, and she clung to
Laurie, the last lingerer, saying with a sob,—</p>
<p class="indent">"Oh, take care of them for me; and if anything should happen—"</p>
<p class="indent">"I will, dear, I will; and if anything happens, I'll come and comfort
you," whispered Laurie, little dreaming that he would be called
upon to keep his word.</p>
<p class="indent">So Amy sailed away to find the old world, which is always new and
beautiful to young eyes, while her father and friend watched her from
the shore, fervently hoping that none but gentle fortunes would befall
the happy-hearted girl, who waved her hand to them till they could
see nothing but the summer sunshine dazzling on the sea.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="b141.png" id="b141.png"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/b141.png" width-obs="200" height-obs="290" alt="Tail-piece" title="Tail-piece" /></div>
<hr class="hr2" />
<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum">[Pg 378]</span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="b142.png" id="b142.png"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/b142.png" width-obs="450" height-obs="400" alt="Flo and I ordered a hansom-cab" title="Flo and I ordered a hansom-cab" /></div>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />