It would be a glorious joke.

Let's do it, Jo.
We'll leave a letter saying we are all right, and trot off at once.
I've got money enough.

It will do you good, and no harm, as you go to your father." For a moment Jo looked as if she would agree, for wild as the plan was, it just suited her.

She was tired of care and confinement, longed for change, and thoughts of her father blended temptingly with the novel charms of camps and hospitals, liberty and fun.

Her eyes kindled as they turned wistfully toward the window, but they fell on the old house opposite, and she shook her head with sorrowful decision.
"If I was a boy, we'd run away together, and have a capital time, but as I'm a miserable girl, I must be proper and stop at home.