thank you."

"Well, you can't, there isn't room. Go and make yourself useful, since
you are too big to be ornamental. I thought you hated to be tied to a
woman's apron string?" retorted Jo, quoting certain rebellious words of
his own.

"Ah, that depends on who wears the apron!" and Laurie gave an audacious
tweak at the tassel.

"Are you going?" demanded Jo, diving for the pillow.

He fled at once, and the minute it was well, "Up with the bonnets of
bonnie Dundee," she slipped away to return no more till the young
gentleman departed in high dudgeon.

Jo lay long awake that night, and was just dropping off when the sound
of a stifled sob made her fly to Beth's bedside, with the anxious
inquiry, "What is it, dear?"

"I thought you were asleep," sobbed Beth.

"Is it the old pain, my precious?"

"No, it's a new one, but I can bear it," and Beth tried to check her
tears.

"Tell me all about it, and let me cure it as I often did the other."

"You can't, there is no cure." There Beth's voice gave way, and
clinging to her sister, she cried so despairingly that Jo was
frightened.

"Where is it? Shall I call Mother?"

"No, no, don't call her, don't tell her. I shall be better soon. Lie
down here and 'poor' my head. I'll be quiet and go to sleep, indeed I
will."

Jo obeyed, but as her hand went softly to and fro across Beth's hot
forehead and wet eyelids, her heart was very full and she longed to
speak. But young as she was, Jo had learned that hearts, like flowers,
cannot be rudely handled, but must open naturally, so though she
believed she knew the cause of Beth's new pain, she only said, in her
tenderest tone, "Does anything trouble you, deary?"

"Yes, Jo," after a long pause.

"Wouldn't it comfort you to tell me what it is?"

"Not now, not yet."

"Then I won't ask, but remember, Bethy, that Mother and Jo are always
glad to hear and help you, if they can."

"I know it. I'll tell you by-and-by."

"Is the pain better now?"

"Oh, yes, much better, you are so comfortable, Jo."

"Go to sleep, dear. I'll stay with you."

So cheek to cheek they fell asleep, and on the morrow Beth seemed quite
herself again, for at eighteen neither heads nor hearts ache long, and
a loving word can medicine most ills.

But Jo had made up her mind, and after pondering over a project for
some days, she confided it to her mother.

"You asked me the other day what my wishes were. I'll tell you one of
them, Marme