38 Little Women Read By Stephanie Poppins

Following the female stoic theme, this novel focuses on love, family, morality, and personal growth.

Meg, the eldest, is drawn to marriage and domestic life.
Jo, the headstrong and tomboyish one, pursues her passion for writing.
Beth, the quiet and gentle one, finds solace in music and is tragically affected by illness.
Amy, the youngest and most artistic, navigates her path, ultimately finding success in the art world.

In this episode, it's all about Meg and John.

Guided reading. Performed by Stephanie Poppins
Music by Jean-Miles Carter
Published by Neworld Books

Transcript

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph, Your go-to podcast that offers you a calm and relaxing transition into a great night's sleep. It is time to relax and fully let go. There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go. Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you and let all the worries of the day drift away. This is your time and your space. Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh. There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go. Happy listening. Chapter 38 Now Beth, Said Amy, Longing for her turn but ready to wait. There's so little of her I'm afraid to say much, Began their father cheerfully, For fear she will slip away altogether, Though she's not so shy as she used to be. He recollected how he'd nearly lost her and held her close, Saying tenderly, With his cheek against hers, I've got you safe my Beth and I'll keep you so please God. After a minute or so he looked down at Amy, Who sat on the cricket at his feet and said with a caress of the shining hair, I observed Amy took drumsticks at dinner, Ran errands from her mother all the afternoon, Gave Meg her place tonight and has waited on everyone with patience and good humour. I also observe she does not fret much or look in the glass anymore and has not even mentioned a very pretty ring she wears, So I conclude she has learned to think of other people more and of herself less and has tried to mould her character as carefully as she moulds her little clay figures. I am glad of this, For though I should be very proud of a graceful statue made by her, I shall be infinitely prouder of a lovable daughter with a talent for making life beautiful to herself and others. Like bees swarming after their queen, Mother and daughters hovered about Mr March the next day, Neglecting everything to wait upon and listen to the new invalid who was in a fair way to be killed by kindness. As he sat propped up in a big chair by Beth's sofa with three others close by and Hannah popping in her head now and then to peek at the dear man, Nothing seemed needed to complete their happiness. But something was needed and the older ones felt it, Although none confessed the fact. Mr and Mrs March looked at one another with an anxious expression as their eyes followed Meg. Jo had sudden fits of sobriety and was seen to shake her fist at Mr Brooke's umbrella which had been left in the hall. Meg was absent-minded shy and silent and started when the bell rang. She even coloured when John's name was mentioned. Amy said everyone seemed waiting for something and couldn't settle down which was queer since father was at home and Beth innocently wondered why their neighbours didn't run over as usual. Lori went by in the afternoon and seeing Meg at the window seemed suddenly possessed with a melodramatic fit for he fell down upon one knee in the snow, Beat his breast, Tore his hair and clasped his hands imploringly as if begging some boon. And when Meg told him to behave himself and go away, He wrung imaginary tears out of his handkerchief and staggered round the corner as if in utter despair. What does the goose mean? Said Meg laughing and trying to look unconscious. He's showing how your John will go by and by. Touching isn't it? Answered Jo scornfully. Don't say my John, It isn't proper or true said Meg but her voice lingered over the words as if they sounded pleasant to her. Please don't plague me Jo, I've told you I don't care much about him. There isn't to be anything said. We are all to be friendly and go on as before. We can't, For something has been said and Lori's mischief has spoiled you for me. I see it and so does mother said Jo pettishly. I do wish it was all settled. I hate to wait so if you mean ever to do it make haste and have it over with quickly. Meg was bending over her work with a queer little smile. I can't say or do anything till he speaks and he won't because father said I was too young. This suggested she did not quite agree with her father on that point. Well if he did speak you wouldn't know what to say. You'd cry or blush or let him have his own way. Instead of giving a good decided no, Said Jo. I'm not so silly and weak as you think. I know what I should say. I've planned it all so you needn't be taken unawares Jo. There's no knowing what may happen and I wish to be prepared. Jo couldn't help smiling at the important air which Meg had unconsciously assumed and which was as becoming as the pretty colour varying in her cheeks. Would you mind telling me what you would say? Asked Jo more respectfully. Not at all. You are sixteen now, Quite old enough to be my confidante and my experience will be useful to you by and by perhaps in your own affairs of this sort. I don't mean to have any. It's fun to watch other people philander but I should feel like a fool doing it myself. Said Jo looking alarmed at the thought. I think not if you liked anyone very much and he liked you. Meg spoke as if to herself and glanced out at the lane where she had often seen lovers walking together in the summer twilight. I thought you were going to tell your speech to that man, Said Jo, Rudely shortening her sister's little reverie. Oh, I should merely say quite calmly and decidedly, Thank you Mr. Brook, You are very kind, But I agree with Father I am too young to enter into any engagement at present, So please say no more but let us be friends as we were. Phew, That's stiff and cool enough. I don't believe you'll ever say it and I know you won't be satisfied if you do. If he goes on like the rejected lovers in books you'll give in rather than hurt his feelings. No I won't. I should tell him I've made up my mind and walk out of the room with dignity. Meg rose as she spoke and was just going to rehearse the dignified exit when a step in the hall made her fly into her seat and begin to sew as if her life depended on it. Jo smothered a laugh at the sudden change and when someone gave a modest tap she opened the door with a grim aspect which was anything but hospitable. Good afternoon, I came to get my umbrella, That is to see how your father finds himself today, Said Mr Brooke, Getting a trifle confused as his eye went from one tell-tale face to the other. It's very well, He's very well, He's in the rack, I'll get him and tell him you're here. Then, Having jumbled her father and the umbrella well enough in her reply, Jo slipped out of the room to give Meg a chance to make her speech and air her dignity. But the minute she finished, Meg began to sidle towards the door murmuring, Mother would like to see you, Pray sit down, I'll call her. Don't go, Are you afraid of me Margaret, Said Mr Brooke. He looked so hurt that Meg thought she must have done something very rude. She blushed up to the little curls on her forehead for he had never called her Margaret before and she was surprised to find how natural and sweet it seemed to hear him say it. Anxious to appear friendly and at her ease, She put out her hand with a confiding gesture and said gratefully, How can I be afraid when you've been so kind to father? I only wish I could thank you for it. Shall I tell you how? Asked Mr Brooke, Holding the small hand fast in both his own and looking down at Meg with so much love in his brown eyes that her heart began to flutter. Oh no, Please don't, I'd rather not, She said, Trying to withdraw her hand and looking frightened in spite of her denial. I won't trouble you, I only want to know if you care for me a little Meg. I love you so much dear, He added tenderly. This was the moment for the calm, Proper speech, But Meg did not make it. She forgot every word. Hanging her head, She answered, I don't know, So softly that John had to stoop down to catch the foolish little reply. He seemed to think it was worth the trouble for he smiled to himself as if satisfied, Pressed the plump hand gratefully and said in his most persuasive tone, Will you try and find out? I want to know so much, For I can't go to work with any heart until I learn whether I'm to have my reward in the end or not. I'm too young, Faltered Meg, Wondering why she was so fluttered, Yet rather enjoying it. I'll wait, And in the meantime you could be learning to like me. Would it be a very hard lesson dear? Not if I chose to learn it, But… Please choose to learn Meg, I love to teach and this is easier than German. His tone was properly beseeching and she had no way of hiding her face as he bent to look into it. But stealing a shy look at him Meg saw his eyes were merry as well as tender and that he wore the satisfied smile of one who had no doubt of his success. This nettled her. Annie Moffat's foolish lessons in coquetry came into her mind and the love of power which sleeps in the bosoms of the best of little women woke up all of a sudden and took possession. She felt excited and strange and not knowing what to do followed a capricious impulse and withdrawing her hand said petulantly, I don't choose. Please go away and let me be. Poor Mr. Brook looked as if his castle in the air was tumbling about his ears for he had never seen Meg in such a mood before and it quite bewildered him. Do you really mean that? He asked anxiously. Yes I do. I don't want to be worried about such things. Father says I needn't. It's too soon and I'd rather not. Mayn't I hope you'll change your mind by and by? I'll wait and say nothing until you've had more time. Don't play with me Meg. I don't think that of you. Don't think of me at all. I'd rather you wouldn't. Said Meg taking a naughty satisfaction in trying her lover's patience and her own power. John Brook was grave and silent now and looked decidedly more like the novel heroes whom she admired but he neither slapped his forehead nor trampled about the room as they did. He just stood looking at her so wistfully, So tenderly she found her heart relenting in spite of herself. What would have happened next I cannot say if Aunt March had not came hobbling in at this interesting minute. The old lady couldn't resist her longing to see her nephew for she'd met Laurie as she took her airing and hearing of Mr March's arrival drove straight out to see him. The family were all busy in the back part of the house and she made her way quietly in hoping to surprise them. She did surprise two of them so much that Meg started as if she had seen a ghost and Mr Brook banished into the study. Bless me, What's all this? Cried the old lady with a wrap of her cane. It's father's friend. I'm so surprised to see you stammered Meg feeling she was in for a lecture. That's evident, Returned Aunt March sitting down. What is father's friend saying to make you look like a peony? There's mischief going on and I insist upon knowing what it is. We were merely talking. Mr Brook came for his umbrella, Meg began, Wishing that Mr Brook and the umbrella were safely out of the house. Brook? That boy's tutor. I understand now. I know all about it. Jo blundered into a wrong message in one of your father's letters and I made her tell me. You haven't gone and accepted him, Child. Hush, He'll hear. Shan't I call mother? Said Meg, Much troubled. Not yet. I've something to say to you and I must free my mind at once. Tell me, Do you mean to marry this cook? If you do, Not one penny of my money ever gets to you. Remember that and be a sensible girl, Said the old lady impressively. Meg thought about it. As she was peremptorily ordered not to like him, She immediately made up her mind she would. Inclination as well as perversity made the decision easy. And being already much excited, Meg opposed the old lady with unusual spirit. I shall marry whom I please, Aunt March. And you can leave your money to anyone you like.