20. CHAPTER TWENTY
"Well, I won't, but I hate to see things going all crisscross
and getting snarled up, when a pull her and a snip there
would straighten it out. I wish wearing flatirons on our heads
would keep us from growing up. But buds will be roses, and
kittens cats, more's the pity!"
"What's that about flatirons and cats?" asked Meg, as she
crept into the room with the finished letter in her hand.
"Only one of my stupid speeches. I'm going to bed. Come,
Peggy," said Jo, unfolding herself like an animated puzzle.
"Quite right, and beautifully written. Please add that I
send my love to John," said Mrs. March, as she glanced over
the letter and gave it back.
"Do you call him `John'?" asked Meg, smiling, with her
innocent eyes looking down into her mother's.
"Yes, he has been like a son to us, and we are very fond of him,"
replied Mrs. March, returning the look with a keen one.
"I'm glad of that, he is so lonely. Good night, Mother,
dear. It is so inexpressibly comfortable to have you here,"
was Meg's answer.
The kiss her mother gave her was a very tender one, and
as she went away, Mrs. March said, with a mixture of satisfaction
and regret, "She does not love John yet, but will soon learn to.