’attire l’attention sur la scène d’amour finale entre Meg et John. Comme ça lue vite fait elle n’a l’air de rien mais je trouve qu’il y a une grande liberté dans le ton et une certaine sensualité chez Meg découvrant son pouvoir de séduction… Il y a aussi de l’ironie face à ses prétentions romantiques : non John ne réagit pas comme un héros de roman et pourtant il leur ressemble…
Je donnes ici la scène . Maintenant c’est peut-être moi qui ai les idées mal placées ou simplement le recul historique qui me fait poser des yeux moqueurs sur une scène historique …dans ce cas je m’en excuse… Mais tu avoueras qu’il y a de l’humour dans cette semaine (et même de l’ironie…)
“How can I be afraid when you have 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 the brown eyes that her heart began to flutter, and she
both longed to run away and to stop and listen.
“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,” added Mr. Brooke
This was the moment for the calm, proper speech, but Meg
didn’t make it. She forgot every word of it, hung her head, and
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 quite 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 am to have my reward in the end
“I’m too young,” faltered Meg, wondering was 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 you to teach, and this
is easier than German,” broke in John, getting possession of the
other hand, so that she had no way of hiding her face as he bent
to look into it.
His tone was properly beseeching, but stealing a shy look
at him, Meg saw that 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 of her. She felt excited and
strange, and not knowing what else to do, followed a
capricious impulse, and, withdrawing her hands, said petulantly,
“I don’t choose. Please go away and let me be!”
Poor Mr. Brooke looked as if his lovely castle in the air
was tumbling about his ears, for he had never seen Meg in such
a mood before, and it rather bewildered him.
“Do you really mean that?” he asked anxiously, following
her as she walked away.
“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 till you have had more time. 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.