Have you?
Do you hate your boy, and want to fire pillows at him ?" Anything more wheedlesome than that touching appeal was seldom heard, but Jo quenched 'her boy' by turning on him with a stern query, "How many bouquets have you sent Miss Randal this week ?" "Not one, upon my word.

She's engaged.

Now then." "I'm glad of it, that's one of your foolish extravagances, sending flowers and things to girls for whom you don't care two pins," continued Jo reprovingly.
"Sensible girls for whom I do care whole papers of pins won't let me send them 'flowers and things', so what can I do?
My feelings need a 'vent'." "Mother doesn't approve of flirting even in fun, and you do flirt desperately, Teddy." "I'd give anything if I could answer, 'So do you'.

As I can't, I'll merely say that I don't see any harm in that pleasant little game, if all parties understand that it's only play." "Well, it does look pleasant, but I can't learn how it's done.

I've tried, because one feels awkward in company not to do as everybody else is doing, but I don't seem to get on", said Jo, forgetting to play mentor.
"Take lessons of Amy, she has a regular talent for it." "Yes, she does it very prettily, and never seems to go too far.