3. CHAPTER THREE
"Mine are spoiled with lemonade, and I can't get any new ones,
so I shall have to go without," said Jo, who never troubled herself
much about dress.
"You must have gloves, or I won't go," cried Meg decidedly.
"Gloves are more important than anything else. You can't dance
without them, and if you don't I should be so mortified."
"Then I'll stay still. I don't care much for company dancing.
It's no fun to go sailing round. I like to fly about and cut capers."
"You can't ask Mother for new ones, they are so expensive, and
you are so careless. She said when you spoiled the others that she
shouldn't get you any more this winter. Can't you make them do?"
"I can hold them crumpled up in my hand, so no one will know
how stained they are. That's all I can do. No! I'll tell you how
we can manage, each wear one good one and carry a bad one. Don't
"Your hands are bigger than mine, and you will stretch my glove
dreadfully," began Meg, whose gloves were a tender point with her.
"Then I'll go without. I don't care what people say!" cried Jo,
taking up her book.
"You may have it, you may! Only don't stain it, and do behave
nicely. Don't put your hands behind you, or stare, or say `Christopher
Columbus!' will you?"
"Don't worry about me. I'll be as prim ad I can and not get
into any scrapes, if I can help it. Now go and answer your note,
and let me finish this splendid story."
So Meg went away to `accept with thanks', look over her dress,
and sing blithely as she did up her one real lace frill, while Jo
finished her story, her four apples, and had a game of romps with