nose, nice teeth, little hands and feet, tall as I am; very polite for a boy, and altogether jolly. Wonder how old he is?"
It was on the tip of Jo's tongue to ask; but she checked herself in time, and, with unusual tact, tried to find out in a roundabout way.
"I suppose you are going to college soon? I see you pegging away at your books—no, I mean studying hard;" and Jo blushed at the dreadful "pegging" which had escaped her.
Laurie smiled, but didn't seem shocked, and answered, with a shrug,—
"Not for two or three years yet; I won't go before seventeen, any way."
"Aren't you but fifteen?" asked Jo, looking at the tall lad, whom she had imagined seventeen already.
"Sixteen, next month."
"How I wish I was going to college; you don't look as if you liked it."
"I hate it! nothing but grinding or sky-larking; and I don't like the way fellows do either, in this country."
"What do you like?"
"To live in Italy, and to enjoy myself in my own way."
Jo wanted very much to ask what his own way was; but his black brows looked rather threatening as he knit them, so she changed the subject by saying, as her foot kept time, "That's a splendid polka; why don't you go and try it?"
"If you will come too," he answered, with a queer little French bow.
"I can't; for I told Meg I wouldn't, because—"
