ief, mirth,
and triumph.

"Actually married?"

"Very much so, thank you."

"Mercy on us. What dreadful thing will you do next?" and Jo fell into
her seat with a gasp.

"A characteristic, but not exactly complimentary, congratulation,"
returned Laurie, still in an abject attitude, but beaming with
satisfaction.

"What can you expect, when you take one's breath away, creeping in like
a burglar, and letting cats out of bags like that? Get up, you
ridiculous boy, and tell me all about it."

"Not a word, unless you let me come in my old place, and promise not to
barricade."

Jo laughed at that as she had not done for many a long day, and patted
the sofa invitingly, as she said in a cordial tone, "The old pillow is
up garret, and we don't need it now. So, come and 'fess, Teddy."

"How good it sounds to hear you say 'Teddy'! No one ever calls me that
but you," and Laurie sat down with an air of great content.

"What does Amy call you?"

"My lord."

"That's like her. Well, you look it," and Jo's eye plainly betrayed
that she found her boy comelier than ever.

The pillow was gone, but there was a barricade, nevertheless, a natural
one, raised by time, absence, and change of heart. Both felt it, and
for a minute looked at one another as if that invisible barrier cast a
little shadow over them. It was gone directly however, for Laurie
said, with a vain attempt at dignity...

"Don't I look like a married man and the head of a family?"

"Not a bit, and you never will. You've grown bigger and bonnier, but
you are the same scapegrace as ever."

"Now really, Jo, you ought to treat me with more respect," began
Laurie, who enjoyed it all immensely.

"How can I, when the mere idea of you, married and settled, is so
irresistibly funny that I can't keep sober!" answered Jo, smiling all
over her face, so infectiously that they had another laugh, and then
settled down for a good talk, quite in the pleasant old fashion.

"It's no use your going out in the cold to get Amy, for they are all
coming up presently. I couldn't wait. I wanted to be the one to tell
you the grand surprise, and have 'first skim' as we used to say when we
squabbled about the cream."

"Of course you did, and spoiled your story by beginning at the wrong
end. Now, start right, and tell me how it all happened. I'm pining to
know."

"Well, I did it to please Amy," began Laurie, with a twinkle that made
Jo exclaim...

"Fib number one. Amy