“What a haughty, uninteresting creature that oldest Miss March is!” was the unfortunately audible remark of one of the ladies, as the door closed upon their guests.  Jo laughed noiselessly all through the hall, but Amy looked disgusted at the failure of her instructions, and very naturally laid the blame upon Jo.

“How could you mistake me so?  I merely meant you to be properly dignified and composed, and you made yourself a perfect stock and stone.  Try to be sociable at the Lambs’.  Gossip as other girls do, and be interested in dress and flirtations and whatever nonsense comes up.  They move in the best society, are valuable persons for us to know, and I wouldn’t fail to make a good impression there for anything.”

“I’ll be agreeable.  I’ll gossip and giggle, and have horrors and raptures over any trifle you like.  I rather enjoy this, and now I’ll imitate what is called ‘a charming girl’.  I can do it, for I have May Chester as a model, and I’ll improve upon her.  See if the Lambs don’t say, ’What a lively, nice creature that Jo March is!”

Amy felt anxious, as well she might, for when Jo turned freakish there was no knowing where she would stop.  Amy’s face was a study when she saw her sister skim into the next drawing room, kiss all the young ladies with effusion, beam graciously upon the young gentlemen, and join in the chat with a spirit which amazed the beholder.  Amy was taken possession of by Mrs. Lamb, with whom she was a favorite, and forced to hear a long account of Lucretia’s last attack, while three delightful young gentlemen hovered near, waiting for a pause when they might rush in and rescue her.  So situated, she was powerless to check Jo, who seemed possessed by a spirit of mischief, and talked away as volubly as the lady.  A knot of heads gathered about her, and Amy strained her ears to hear what was going on, for broken sentences filled her with curiosity, and frequent peals of laughter made her wild to share the fun.  One may imagine her suffering on overhearing fragments of this sort of conversation.

“She rides splendidly.  Who taught her?”

“No one.  She used to practice mounting, holding the reins, and sitting straight on an old saddle in a tree.  Now she rides anything, for she doesn’t know what fear is, and the stableman lets her have horses cheap because she trains them to carry ladies so well.  She has such a passion for it, I often tell her if everything else fails, she can be a horsebreaker, and get her living so.”

At this awful speech Amy contained herself with difficulty, for the impression was being given that she was rather a fast young lady, which was her especial aversion.  But what could she do?  For the old lady was in the middle of her story, and long before it was done, Jo was off again, making more droll revelations and committing still more fearful blunders.

“Yes, Amy was in despair that day, for all the good beasts were gone, and of three left, one was lame, one blind, and the other so balky that you had to put dirt in his mouth before he would start.  Nice animal for a pleasure party, wasn’t it?”