“Because we got lost together. You ain’t going to be naughty again,
are you?”
“Never,” said Nan, with great decision.
“Oh, goody! now let’s go and get Mary Ann to cut this for us all
ready to eat; it’s ‘most tea time;” and Rob beckoned with the
delicious little pie.
Nan started to follow, then stopped, and said,
“I forgot, I can’t go.”
“Try and see,” said Mrs. Bhaer, who had quietly untied the cord
sash while she had been talking.
Nan saw that she was free, and with one tempestuous kiss to Mrs.
Jo, she was off like a humming-bird, followed by Robby, dribbling
huckleberry juice as he ran.
CHAPTER XIII GOLDILOCKS
After the last excitement peace descended upon Plumfield and
reigned unbroken for several weeks, for the elder boys felt that the
loss of Nan and Rob lay at their door, and all became so paternal
in their care that they were rather wearying; while the little ones
listened to Nan’s recital of her perils so many times, that they
regarded being lost as the greatest ill humanity was heir to, and
hardly dared to put their little noses outside the great gate lest
night should suddenly descend upon them, and ghostly black cows
come looming through the dusk.
“It is too good to last,” said Mrs. Jo; for years of boy-culture had
taught her that such lulls were usually followed by outbreaks of
some sort, and when less wise women would have thought that the
boys had become confirmed saints, she prepared herself for a
sudden eruption of the domestic volcano.
One cause of this welcome calm was a visit from little Bess,
whose parents lent her for a week while they were away with
Grandpa Laurence, who was poorly. The boys regarded Goldilocks
as a mixture of child, angel, and fairy, for she was a lovely little
creature, and the golden hair which she inherited from her blonde
mamma enveloped her like a shining veil, behind which she
smiled upon her worshippers when gracious, and hid herself when
offended. Her father would not have it cut and it hung below her
waist, so soft and fine and bright, that Demi insisted that it was
silk spun from a cocoon. Every one praised the little Princess, but
it did not seem to do her harm, only to teach her that her presence
brought sunshine, her smiles made answering smiles on other
faces, and her baby griefs filled every heart with tenderest
sympathy.
Unconsciously, she did her young subjects more good than many a
real sovereign, for her rule was very gentle and her power was felt
rather than seen. Her natural refinement made her dainty in all
things, and had a good effect upon the careless lads about her. She
would let no one touch her roughly or with unclean hands, and
more soap was used during her visits than at any other time,
because the boys considered it the highest honor to be allowed to
carry her highness, and the deepest disgrace to be repulsed with
the disdainful command, “Do away, dirty boy!”
Lour voices displeased her and quarrelling frightened her; so
gentler tones came into the boyish voices as they addressed her,
and squabbles were promptly suppressed in her presence by
lookers-on if the principles could not restrain themselves. She
liked to be waited on, and the biggest boys did her little errands
without a murmur, while the small lads were her devoted slaves in
all things. They begged to be allowed to draw her carriage, bear
her berry-basket, or pass her plate at table. No service was too
humble, and Tommy and Ned came to blows before they could
decide which should have the honor of blacking her little boots.
Nan was especially benefited by a week in the society of a
well-bred lady, though such a very small one; for Bess would look
at her with a mixture of wonder and alarm in her great blue eyes
when the hoyden screamed and romped; and she shrunk from her
as if she thought her a sort of wild animal. Warm-hearted Nan felt
this very much. She said at first, “Pooh! I don’t care!” But she did