“And you?”

“I’m always glad to see you, sir.”

In her anxiety to keep her voice quite calm, Jo made it rather cool, and the frosty little monosyllable at the end seemed to chill the Professor, for his smile vanished, as he said gravely . . .

“I thank you, and come one more time before I go.”

“You are going, then?”

“I haf no longer any business here, it is done.”

“Successfully, I hope?” said Jo, for the bitterness of disappointment was in that short reply of his.

“I ought to think so, for I haf a way opened to me by which I can make my bread and gif my Junglings much help.”

“Tell me, please!  I like to know all about the—­the boys,” said Jo eagerly.

“That is so kind, I gladly tell you.  My friends find for me a place in a college, where I teach as at home, and earn enough to make the way smooth for Franz and Emil.  For this I should be grateful, should I not?”

“Indeed you should.  How splendid it will be to have you doing what you like, and be able to see you often, and the boys!” cried Jo, clinging to the lads as an excuse for the satisfaction she could not help betraying.

“Ah!  But we shall not meet often, I fear, this place is at the West.”

“So far away!” and Jo left her skirts to their fate, as if it didn’t matter now what became of her clothes or herself.

Mr. Bhaer could read several languages, but he had not learned to read women yet.  He flattered himself that he knew Jo pretty well, and was, therefore, much amazed by the contradictions of voice, face, and manner, which she showed him in rapid succession that day, for she was in half a dozen different moods in the course of half an hour.  When she met him she looked surprised, though it was impossible to help suspecting that she had come for that express purpose.  When he offered her his arm, she took it with a look that filled him with delight, but when he asked if she missed him, she gave such a chilly, formal reply that despair fell upon him.  On learning his good fortune she almost clapped her hands.  Was the joy all for the boys?  Then on hearing his destination, she said, “So far away!” in a tone of despair that lifted him on to a pinnacle of hope, but the next minute she tumbled him down again by observing, like one entirely absorbed in the matter . . .

“Here’s the place for my errands.  Will you come in?  It won’t take long.”

Jo rather prided herself upon her shopping capabilities, and particularly wished to impress her escort with the neatness and dispatch with which she would accomplish the business.  But owing to the flutter she was in, everything went amiss.  She upset the tray of needles, forgot the silesia was to be ‘twilled’ till it was cut off, gave the wrong change, and covered herself with confusion by asking for lavender ribbon at the calico counter.  Mr. Bhaer stood by, watching her blush and blunder, and as he watched, his own bewilderment seemed to subside, for he was beginning to see that on some occasions, women, like dreams, go by contraries.