That put Jo at her ease and she laughed too, as she said, in
her heartiest way, "We did have such a good time over your nice
Christmas present."
"Grandpa sent it."
"But you put it into his head, didn't you, now?"
"How is your cat, Miss March?" asked the boy, trying to look
sober while his black eyes shone with fun.
"Nicely, thank you, Mr. Laurence. But I am not Miss March, I'm
only Jo," returned the young lady.
"I'm not Mr. Laurence, I'm only Laurie."
"Laurie Laurence, what an odd name."
"My first name is Theodore, but I don't like it, for the
fellows called me Dora, so I made them say Laurie instead."
"I hate my name, too, so sentimental! I wish every one would
say Jo instead of Josephine. How did you make the boys stop calling
you Dora?"
"I thrashed 'em."
"I can't thrash Aunt March, so I suppose I shall have to bear
it." And Jo resigned herself with a sigh.
