“I’ve sprained my ankle. That stupid high heel turned and gave me a sad wrench. It aches so, I can hardly stand, and I don’t know how I’m ever going to get home,” she said, rocking to and fro in pain.
“I knew you’d hurt your feet with those silly shoes. I’m sorry. But I don’t see what you can do, except get a carriage, or stay here all night,” answered Jo, softly rubbing the poor ankle as she spoke.
“I can’t have a carriage without its costing ever so much. I dare say I can’t get one at all, for most people come in their own, and it’s a long way to the stable, and no one to send.”
“No, indeed! It’s past nine, and dark as Egypt. I can’t stop here, for the house is full. Sallie has some girls staying with her. I’ll rest till Hannah comes, and then do the best I can.”
“I’ll ask Laurie. He will go,” said Jo, looking relieved as the idea occurred to her.
“Mercy, no! Don’t ask or tell anyone. Get me my rubbers, and put these slippers with our things. I can’t dance anymore, but as soon as supper is over, watch for Hannah and tell me the minute she comes.”
“They are going out to supper now. I’ll stay with you. I’d rather.”
“No, dear, run along, and bring me some coffee. I’m so tired I can’t stir.”
So Meg reclined, with rubbers well hidden, and Jo went blundering away to the dining room, which she found after going into a china closet, and opening the door of a room where old Mr. Gardiner was taking a little private refreshment. Making a dart at the table, she secured the coffee, which she immediately spilled, thereby making the front of her dress as bad as the back.
“Oh, dear, what a blunderbuss I am!” exclaimed Jo, finishing Meg’s glove by scrubbing her gown with it.
“Can I help you?” said a friendly voice. And there was Laurie, with a full cup in one hand and a plate of ice in the other.
“I was trying to get something for Meg, who is very tired, and someone shook me, and here I am in a nice state,” answered Jo, glancing dismally from the stained skirt to the coffee-colored glove.
“Too bad! I was looking for someone to give this to. May I take it to your sister?”
“Oh, thank you! I’ll show you where she is. I don’t offer to take it myself, for I should only get into another scrape if I did.”
Jo led the way, and as if used to waiting on ladies, Laurie drew up a little table, brought a second installment of coffee and ice for Jo, and was so obliging that even particular Meg pronounced him a ‘nice boy’. They had a merry time over the bonbons and mottoes, and were in the midst of a quiet game of Buzz, with two or three other young people who had strayed in, when Hannah appeared. Meg forgot her foot and rose so quickly that she was forced to catch hold of Jo, with an exclamation of pain.
“Hush! Don’t say anything,” she whispered, adding aloud, “It’s nothing. I turned my foot a little, that’s all,” and limped upstairs to put her things on.
Hannah scolded, Meg cried, and Jo was at her wits’ end, till she decided to take things into her own hands. Slipping out, she ran down and, finding a servant, asked if he could get her a carriage. It happened to be a hired waiter who knew nothing about the neighborhood and Jo was looking round for help when Laurie, who had heard what she said, came up and offered his grandfather’s carriage, which had just come for him, he said.
“It’s so early! You can’t mean to go yet?” began Jo, looking relieved but hesitating to accept the offer.
“I always go early, I do, truly! Please let me take you home. It’s all on my way, you know, and it rains, they say.”
That settled it, and telling him of Meg’s mishap, Jo gratefully accepted and rushed up to bring down the rest of the party. Hannah hated rain as much as a cat does so she made no trouble, and they rolled away in the luxurious close carriage, feeling very festive and elegant. Laurie went on the box so Meg could keep her foot up, and the girls talked over their party in freedom.