29. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
"Don't know a word. I'm very stupid about studying anything,
can't bear French, it's such a slippery, silly sort of language,"
was the brusque reply.
Another look passed between the ladies, and Aunt March said
to Amy, 'You are quite strong and well no, dear, I believe? Eyes
don't trouble you any more, do they?"
"Not at all, thank you, ma'am. I'm very well, and mean to do
great things next winter, so that I may be ready for Rome, whenever
that joyful time arrives."
"Good girl! You deserve to go, and I'm sure you will some
day," said Aunt March, with an approving; pat on the head, as Amy
picked up her ball for her.
Crosspatch, draw the latch,
Sit by the fire and spin,
squalled Polly, bending down from his perch on the back of her
chair to peep into Jo's face, with such a comical air of impertinent
inquiry that it was impossible to help laughing.
"Most observing bird," said the old lady.
"Come and take a walk, my dear?" cried Polly, hopping toward
the china closet, with a look suggestive of a lump of sugar.
"Thank you, I will. Come Amy." And Jo brought the visit to
an end, feeling more strongly than ever that calls did have a bad
effect upon her constitution. She shook hands in a gentlemanly
manner, but Amy kissed both the aunts, and the girls departed,
leaving behind them the impression of shadow and sunshine, which
impression caused Aunt March to say, as they vanished...
"You'd better do it, Mary. I'll supply the money. And Aunt
Carrol to reply decidedly, "I certainly will, if her father and