The art table was the most attractive in the room.  There was a crowd about it all day long, and the tenders were constantly flying to and fro with important faces and rattling money boxes.  Amy often looked wistfully across, longing to be there, where she felt at home and happy, instead of in a corner with nothing to do.  It might seem no hardship to some of us, but to a pretty, blithe young girl, it was not only tedious, but very trying, and the thought of Laurie and his friends made it a real martyrdom.

She did not go home till night, and then she looked so pale and quiet that they knew the day had been a hard one, though she made no complaint, and did not even tell what she had done.  Her mother gave her an extra cordial cup of tea.  Beth helped her dress, and made a charming little wreath for her hair, while Jo astonished her family by getting herself up with unusual care, and hinting darkly that the tables were about to be turned.

“Don’t do anything rude, pray Jo; I won’t have any fuss made, so let it all pass and behave yourself,” begged Amy, as she departed early, hoping to find a reinforcement of flowers to refresh her poor little table.

“I merely intend to make myself entrancingly agreeable to every one I know, and to keep them in your corner as long as possible.  Teddy and his boys will lend a hand, and we’ll have a good time yet.” returned Jo, leaning over the gate to watch for Laurie.  Presently the familiar tramp was heard in the dusk, and she ran out to meet him.

“Is that my boy?”

“As sure as this is my girl!” and Laurie tucked her hand under his arm with the air of a man whose every wish was gratified.

“Oh, Teddy, such doings!” and Jo told Amy’s wrongs with sisterly zeal.

“A flock of our fellows are going to drive over by-and-by, and I’ll be hanged if I don’t make them buy every flower she’s got, and camp down before her table afterward,” said Laurie, espousing her cause with warmth.

“The flowers are not at all nice, Amy says, and the fresh ones may not arrive in time.  I don’t wish to be unjust or suspicious, but I shouldn’t wonder if they never came at all.  When people do one mean thing they are very likely to do another,” observed Jo in a disgusted tone.

“Didn’t Hayes give you the best out of our gardens?  I told him to.”

“I didn’t know that, he forgot, I suppose, and, as your grandpa was poorly, I didn’t like to worry him by asking, though I did want some.”

“Now, Jo, how could you think there was any need of asking?  They are just as much yours as mine.  Don’t we always go halves in everything?” began Laurie, in the tone that always made Jo turn thorny.

“Gracious, I hope not!  Half of some of your things wouldn’t suit me at all.  But we mustn’t stand philandering here.  I’ve got to help Amy, so you go and make yourself splendid, and if you’ll be so very kind as to let Hayes take a few nice flowers up to the Hall, I’ll bless you forever.”