44. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
"Please, Madam Mother, could you lend me my wife for half
an hour? The luggage has come, and I've been making hay of
Amy's Paris finery, trying to find some things I want," said
Laurie, coming in the next day to find Mrs. Laurence sitting
in her mother's lap, as if being made `the baby' again.
"Certainly. Go, dear, I forgot that you have any home but
this." And Mrs. March pressed the white hand that wore the wedding
ring, as if asking pardon for her maternal covetousness.
"I shouldn't have come over if I could have helped it, but
I can't get on without my little woman any more than a..."
"Weathercock can without the wind," suggested Jo, as he
paused for a simile. Jo had grown quite her own saucy self
again since Teddy came home.
"Exactly, for Amy keeps me pointing due west most of the
time, with only an occasional whiffle round to the south, and
I haven't had an easterly spell since I was married. Don't know
anything about the north, but am altogether salubrious and balmy,
hey, my lady?"
"Lovely weather so far. I don't know how long it will last,
but I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my
ship. Come home, dear, and I'll find your bootjack. I suppose
that's what you are rummaging after among my things. Men are so
helpless, Mother," said Amy, with a matronly air, which delighted
"What are you going to do with yourselves after you get settled?"
asked Jo, buttoning Amy's cloak as she used to button her pinafores.
"We have our plans. We don't mean to say much about them
yet, because we are such very new brooms, but we don't intend to
be idle. I'm going into business with a devotion that shall delight
Grandfather, and prove to him that I'm not spoiled. I need
something of the sort to keep me steady. I'm tired of dawdling,
and mean to work like a man."