Don't play with me, Meg.

I didn'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.
He was grave and pale now, and looked decidedly more like the novel heroes whom she admired, but he neither slapped his forehead nor tramped about the room as they did.

He just stood looking at her so wistfully, so tenderly, that she found her heart relenting in spite of herself.

What would have happened next I cannot say, if Aunt March had not come hobbling in at this interesting minute.
The old lady couldn't resist her longing to see her nephew, for she had met Laurie as she took her airing, and hearing of Mr.March's arrival, drove straight out to see him.