“That won’t do.  He shall not shelter himself behind a promise from you softhearted girls.  If he’s done anything amiss, he shall confess, beg pardon, and be punished.  Out with it, Jo.  I won’t be kept in the dark.”

Mr. Laurence looked so alarming and spoke so sharply that Jo would have gladly run away, if she could, but she was perched aloft on the steps, and he stood at the foot, a lion in the path, so she had to stay and brave it out.

“Indeed, Sir, I cannot tell.  Mother forbade it.  Laurie has confessed, asked pardon, and been punished quite enough.  We don’t keep silence to shield him, but someone else, and it will make more trouble if you interfere.  Please don’t.  It was partly my fault, but it’s all right now.  So let’s forget it, and talk about the Rambler or something pleasant.”

“Hang the Rambler! Come down and give me your word that this harum-scarum boy of mine hasn’t done anything ungrateful or impertinent.  If he has, after all your kindness to him, I’ll thrash him with my own hands.”

The threat sounded awful, but did not alarm Jo, for she knew the irascible old gentleman would never lift a finger against his grandson, whatever he might say to the contrary.  She obediently descended, and made as light of the prank as she could without betraying Meg or forgetting the truth.

“Hum . . . ha . . . well, if the boy held his tongue because he promised, and not from obstinacy, I’ll forgive him.  He’s a stubborn fellow and hard to manage,” said Mr. Laurence, rubbing up his hair till it looked as if he had been out in a gale, and smoothing the frown from his brow with an air of relief.

“So am I, but a kind word will govern me when all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t,” said Jo, trying to say a kind word for her friend, who seemed to get out of one scrape only to fall into another.

“You think I’m not kind to him, hey?” was the sharp answer.

“Oh, dear no, Sir.  You are rather too kind sometimes, and then just a trifle hasty when he tries your patience.  Don’t you think you are?”

Jo was determined to have it out now, and tried to look quite placid, though she quaked a little after her bold speech.  To her great relief and surprise, the old gentleman only threw his spectacles onto the table with a rattle and exclaimed frankly, “You’re right, girl, I am!  I love the boy, but he tries my patience past bearing, and I know how it will end, if we go on so.”

“I’ll tell you, he’ll run away.”  Jo was sorry for that speech the minute it was made.  She meant to warn him that Laurie would not bear much restraint, and hoped he would be more forebearing with the lad.

Mr. Laurence’s ruddy face changed suddenly, and he sat down, with a troubled glance at the picture of a handsome man, which hung over his table.  It was Laurie’s father, who had run away in his youth, and married against the imperious old man’s will.  Jo fancied he remembered and regretted the past, and she wished she had held her tongue.