PART 2
32. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
(continued)
"Mercy on us, this will never do," thought Jo, adding
aloud, "Go and sing to me. I'm dying for some music, and
always like yours."
"I'd rather stay here, 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."
|