9. CHAPTER NINE
"I do think it was the most fortunate thing in the world that
those children should have the measles just now," said Meg, one
April day, as she stood packing the `go abroady' trunk in her room,
surrounded by her sisters.
"And so nice of Annie Moffat not to forget her promise. A
whole fortnight of fun will be regularly splendid," replied Jo,
looking like a windmill as she folded skirts with her long arms.
"And such lovely weather, I'm so glad of that," added Beth,
tidily sorting neck and hair ribbons in her best box, lent for
the great occasion.
"I wish I was going to have a fine time and wear all these
nice things," said Amy with her mouth full of pins, as she
artistically replenished her sister's cushion.
"I wish you were all going, but as you can't, I shall keep
my adventures to tell you when I come back. I'm sure it's the
least I can do when you have been so kind, lending me things
and helping me get ready," said Meg, glancing round the room
at the very simple outfit, which seemed nearly perfect in their
"What did Mother give you out of the treasure box?" asked
Amy, who had not been present at the opening of a certain cedar
chest in which Mrs. March kept a few relics of past splendor, as
gifts for her girls when the proper time came.
"A pair of silk stockings, that pretty carved fan, and a
lovely blue sash. I wanted the violet silk, but there isn't
time to make it over, so I must be contented with my old tarlatan."
"It will look nice over my new muslin skirt, and the sash will
set it off beautifully. I wish I hadn't smashed my coral bracelet,
for you might have had it," said Jo, who loved to give and lend,
but whose possessions were usually too dilapidated to be of much