Jo's Boys - Bibliotecadigital.puc-campinas.edu.br

Chapter 21 142the poor fellow often said he felt as if he had found a father. The boys took him to drive, and amused him withtheir pranks and plans; while the women, old and young, nursed and petted him till he felt like a sultan with acrowd of devoted slaves, obedient to his lightest wish. A very little of this was enough for Dan, who had amasculine horror of 'molly-coddling', and so brief an acquaintance with illness that he rebelled against thedoctor's orders to keep quiet; and it took all Mrs Jo's authority and the girls' ingenuity to keep him fromleaving his sofa long before strained back and wounded head were well. Daisy cooked for him; Nan attendedto his medicines; Josie read aloud to while away the long hours of inaction that hung so heavily on his hands;while Bess brought all her pictures and casts to amuse him, and, at his special desire, set up a modelling-standin his parlour and began to mould the buffalo head he gave her. Those afternoons seemed the pleasantest partof his day; and Mrs Jo, busy in her study close by, could see the friendly trio and enjoy the pretty pictures theymade. The girls were much flattered by the success of their efforts, and exerted themselves to be veryentertaining, consulting Dan's moods with the feminine tact most women creatures learn before they are out ofpinafores. When he was gay, the room rang with laughter; when gloomy, they read or worked in respectfulsilence till their sweet patience cheered him up again; and when in pain they hovered over him like 'a coupleof angels', as he said. He often called Josie 'little mother', but Bess was always 'Princess'; and his manner tothe two cousins was quite different. Josie sometimes fretted him with her fussy ways, the long plays she likedto read, and the maternal scoldings she administered when he broke the rules; for having a lord of creation inher power was so delightful to her that she would have ruled him with a rod of iron if he had submitted. ToBess, in her gentler ministrations, he never showed either impatience or weariness, but obeyed her least word,exerted himself to seem well in her presence, and took such interest in her work that he lay looking at her withunwearied eyes; while Josie read to him in her best style unheeded.Mrs Jo observed this, and called them 'Una and the Lion', which suited them very well, though the lion's manewas shorn, and Una never tried to bridle him. The elder ladies did their part in providing delicacies andsupplying all his wants; but Mrs Meg was busy at home, Mrs Amy preparing for the trip to Europe in thespring, and Mrs Jo hovering on the brink of a 'vortex'--for the forthcoming book had been sadly delayed bythe late domestic events. As she sat at her desk, settling papers or meditatively nibbling her pen while waitingfor the divine afflatus to descend upon her, she often forgot her fictitious heroes and heroines in studying thelive models before her, and thus by chance looks, words, and gestures discovered a little romance unsuspectedby anyone else.The portiere between the rooms was usually drawn aside, giving a view of the group in the largebay-window--Bess at one side, in her grey blouse, busy with her tools; Josie at the other side with her book;and between, on the long couch, propped with many cushions, lay Dan in a many-hued eastern dressing-gownpresented by Mr Laurie and worn to please the girls, though the invalid much preferred an old jacket 'with noconfounded tail to bother over'. He faced Mrs Jo's room, but never seemed to see her, for his eyes were on theslender figure before him, with the pale winter sunshine touching her golden head, and the delicate hands thatshaped the clay so deftly. Josie was just visible, rocking violently in a little chair at the head of the couch, andthe steady murmur of her girlish voice was usually the only sound that broke the quiet of the room, unless asudden discussion arose about the book or the buffalo.Something in the big eyes, bigger and blacker than ever in the thin white face, fixed, so steadily on one object,had a sort of fascination for Mrs Jo after a time, and she watched the changes in them curiously; for Dan'smind was evidently not on the story, and he often forgot to laugh or exclaim at the comic or exciting crises.Sometimes they were soft and wistful, and the watcher was very glad that neither damsel caught thatdangerous look for when they spoke it vanished; sometimes it was full of eager fire, and the colour came andwent rebelliously, in spite of his attempt to hide it with an impatient gesture of hand or head; but oftenest itwas dark, and sad, and stern, as if those gloomy eyes looked out of captivity at some forbidden light or joy.This expression came so often that it worried Mrs Jo, and she longed to go and ask him what bitter memoryovershadowed those quiet hours. She knew that his crime and its punishment must lie heavy on his mind; butyouth, and time, and new hopes would bring comfort, and help to wear away the first sharpness of the prisonbrand. It lifted at other times, and seemed almost forgotten when he joked with the boys, talked with old