“No, I was glad that you were not in the saloon, because I hope you never go to such places. Do you?”
“Not often.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
“It’s no harm, Jo. I have billiards at home, but it’s no fun unless you have good players, so, as I’m fond of it, I come sometimes and have a game with Ned Moffat or some of the other fellows.”
“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry, for you’ll get to liking it better and better, and will waste time and money, and grow like those dreadful boys. I did hope you’d stay respectable and be a satisfaction to your friends,” said Jo, shaking her head.
“Can’t a fellow take a little innocent amusement now and then without losing his respectability?” asked Laurie, looking nettled.
“That depends upon how and where he takes it. I don’t like Ned and his set, and wish you’d keep out of it. Mother won’t let us have him at our house, though he wants to come. And if you grow like him she won’t be willing to have us frolic together as we do now.”
“Won’t she?” asked Laurie anxiously.
“No, she can’t bear fashionable young men, and she’d shut us all up in bandboxes rather than have us associate with them.”
“Well, she needn’t get out her bandboxes yet. I’m not a fashionable party and don’t mean to be, but I do like harmless larks now and then, don’t you?”