“Girls, girls! Have you both got nice pocket handkerchiefs?” “Yes, yes, spandy nice, and Meg has cologne on hers,” cried Jo, adding with a laugh as they went on, “I do believe Marmee would ask that if we were all running away from an earthquake.” “It is one of her aristocratic tastes, and quite proper, for a real lady is always known by neat boots, gloves, and handkerchief,” replied Meg, who had a good many little “aristocratic tastes” of her own. “Now don’t forget to keep the bad breadth out of sight, Jo. Is my sash right? And does my hair look very bad?” said Meg, as she turned from the glass in Mrs. Gardiner’s dressing room after a prolonged prink. “I know I shall forget. If you see me doing anything wrong, just remind me by a wink, will you?” returned Jo, giving her collar a twitch and her head a hasty brush. “No, winking isn’t ladylike. I’ll lift my eyebrows if any thing is wrong, and nod if you are all right. Now hold your shoulder straight, and take short steps, and don’t shake hands if you are introduced to anyone. It isn’t the thing.”
No comments:
Post a Comment