“Oh, yes, well enough,” returned Nan indifferently, though wondering if Jo noticed the color rising to her cheeks.
“He is much more taken with you then,” said Jo. Then receiving no answer, “You are so indifferent I don’t suppose you want to hear any of the nice things he was saying about you last night.”
If she could but know how insanely eager she was to learn them, thought Nan, though at the same time determining not to give an inkling of this state of feeling. However, she temporized by saying, “Oh, men say a lot of things they don’t mean.”
“He meant these all right. He said he was wild to ask you to sit for him, but he was afraid of you, for you had such wonderful eyes and he said you were so picturesque; that is more than any one ever can say of me.”
Nan’s heart was beating high, her hands were cold and her temples throbbing. They had been talking of her and he had said that. He was afraid of her! Oh, wonder of wonders!
“Well,” said Jo.
Nan gathered breath to say, “That was very nice of him, I am sure, though he doesn’t strike me as a young man who would be afraid of any one.”
“That’s all you know about it.”
“He isn’t afraid of you; it is very apparent.” Nan was sorry to have said this before the words were fairly out. Jo had been so generous in not keeping these compliments to herself as a girl with a meaner spirit would have done.
“Me? Of course nobody is ever afraid of me. I am too roly-poly, and a nose like mine doesn’t inspire awe.”