He started as if he had been shot, threw up his head, and cried out, in a fierce tone,—
"Don't tell me that, Jo; I can't bear it now!"
"Tell what?" she asked, wondering at his violence.
"That you love that old man."
"What old man?" demanded Jo, thinking he must mean his grandfather.
"That devilish Professor you were always writing about. If you say you love him I know I shall do something desperate"—and he looked as if he would keep his word, as he clenched his hands with a wrathful spark in his eyes.
Jo wanted to laugh, but restrained herself, and said, warmly, for she, too, was getting excited with all this,—
"Don't swear, Teddy! He isn't old, nor anything bad, but good and kind, and the best friend I've got—next to you. Pray don't fly into a passion; I want to be kind, but I know I shall get angry if you abuse my Professor. I haven't the least idea of loving him, or anybody else."
"But you will after a while, and then what will become of me?"
"You'll love some one else, too, like a sensible boy, and forget all this trouble."
"I can't love any one else; and I'll never forget you, Jo, never! never!" with a stamp to emphasize his passionate words.
"What shall I do with him?" sighed Jo, finding that emotions were more unmanageable than she expected. "You haven't heard what I wanted to tell you. Sit down and listen; for indeed I want to do right, and make you happy," she said, hoping to