ou see what I'll
do for Brooke."

"Begin to do something now by not plaguing his life out," said Meg
sharply.

"How do you know I do, Miss?"

"I can always tell by his face when he goes away. If you have been
good, he looks satisfied and walks briskly. If you have plagued him,
he's sober and walks slowly, as if he wanted to go back and do his work
better."

"Well, I like that? So you keep an account of my good and bad marks in
Brooke's face, do you? I see him bow and smile as he passes your
window, but I didn't know you'd got up a telegraph."

"We haven't. Don't be angry, and oh, don't tell him I said anything!
It was only to show that I cared how you get on, and what is said here
is said in confidence, you know," cried Meg, much alarmed at the
thought of what might follow from her careless speech.

"I don't tell tales," replied Laurie, with his 'high and mighty' air,
as Jo called a certain expression which he occasionally wore. "Only if
Brooke is going to be a thermometer, I must mind and have fair weather
for him to report."

"Please don't be offended. I didn't mean to preach or tell tales or be
silly. I only thought Jo was encouraging you in a feeling which you'd
be sorry for by-and-by. You are so kind to us, we feel as if you were
our brother and say just what we think. Forgive me, I meant it kindly."
And Meg offered her hand with a gesture both affectionate and timid.

Ashamed of his momentary pique, Laurie squeezed the kind little hand,
and said frankly, "I'm the one to be forgiven. I'm cross and have been
out of sorts all day. I like to have you tell me my faults and be
sisterly, so don't mind if I am grumpy sometimes. I thank you all the
same."

Bent on showing that he was not offended, he made himself as agreeable
as possible, wound cotton for Meg, recited poetry to please Jo, shook
down cones for Beth, and helped Amy with her ferns, proving himself a
fit person to belong to the 'Busy Bee Society'. In the midst of an
animated discussion on the domestic habits of turtles (one of those
amiable creatures having strolled up from the river), the faint sound
of a bell warned them that Hannah had put the tea 'to draw', and they
would just have time to get home to supper.

"May I come again?" asked Laurie.

"Yes, if you are good, and love your book, as the boys in the primer
are told to do," said Meg, smiling.

"I'll try."

"Then you may come, and I'll teach you to knit as the Scotchmen do