"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.

"MY DEAREST MARGARET, --

"I can no longer restrain my passion, and must know my
fate before I return. I dare not tell your parents yet, but I
think they would consent if they knew that we adored one an-
other. Mr. Laurence will help me to some good place, and
then, my sweet girl, you will make me happy. I implore you to
say nothing to your family yet, but to send one word of hope
through Laurie to

"Your devoted JOHN."

"Oh, the little villain! that's the way he meant to pay me
for keeping my word to mother. I'll give him a hearty scold-
ing, and bring him over to beg pardon," cried Jo, burning to
execute immediate justice. But her mother held her back,
saying, with a look she seldom wore, --

"Stop, Jo, you must clear yourself first. You have played
so many pranks, that I am afraid you have had a hand in
this."

"On my word, mother, I haven't! I never saw that note
before, and don't know anything about it, as true as I live!"
said Jo, so earnestly that they believed her. "If I had taken a
part in it I'd have done it better than this, and have written
a sensible note. I should think you'd have known Mr. Brooke
wouldn't write such stuff as that," she added, scornfully tossing
down the paper.

"It's like his writing," faltered Meg, comparing it with the
note in her hand.

"O Meg, you didn't answer it?" cried Mrs. March quickly.

"Yes, I did!" and Meg hid her face again, overcome with
shame.

"Here's a scrape! Do let me bring that wicked boy over

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