“Don’t let Amy come.  She never had it, and I should hate to give it to her.  Can’t you and Meg have it over again?” asked Beth, anxiously.

“I guess not.  Don’t care if I do.  Serve me right, selfish pig, to let you go, and stay writing rubbish myself!” muttered Jo, as she went to consult Hannah.

The good soul was wide awake in a minute, and took the lead at once, assuring that there was no need to worry; every one had scarlet fever, and if rightly treated, nobody died, all of which Jo believed, and felt much relieved as they went up to call Meg.

“Now I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said Hannah, when she had examined and questioned Beth, “we will have Dr. Bangs, just to take a look at you, dear, and see that we start right.  Then we’ll send Amy off to Aunt March’s for a spell, to keep her out of harm’s way, and one of you girls can stay at home and amuse Beth for a day or two.”

“I shall stay, of course, I’m oldest,” began Meg, looking anxious and self-reproachful.

“I shall, because it’s my fault she is sick.  I told Mother I’d do the errands, and I haven’t,” said Jo decidedly.

“Which will you have, Beth?  There ain’t no need of but one,” aid Hannah.

“Jo, please.”  And Beth leaned her head against her sister with a contented look, which effectually settled that point.

“I’ll go and tell Amy,” said Meg, feeling a little hurt, yet rather relieved on the whole, for she did not like nursing, and Jo did.

Amy rebelled outright, and passionately declared that she had rather have the fever than go to Aunt March.  Meg reasoned, pleaded, and commanded, all in vain.  Amy protested that she would not go, and Meg left her in despair to ask Hannah what should be done.  Before she came back, Laurie walked into the parlor to find Amy sobbing, with her head in the sofa cushions.  She told her story, expecting to be consoled, but Laurie only put his hands in his pockets and walked about the room, whistling softly, as he knit his brows in deep thought.  Presently he sat down beside her, and said, in his most wheedlesome tone, “Now be a sensible little woman, and do as they say.  No, don’t cry, but hear what a jolly plan I’ve got.  You go to Aunt March’s, and I’ll come and take you out every day, driving or walking, and we’ll have capital times.  Won’t that be better than moping here?”

“I don’t wish to be sent off as if I was in the way,” began Amy, in an injured voice.

“Bless your heart, child, it’s to keep you well.  You don’t want to be sick, do you?”

“No, I’m sure I don’t, but I dare say I shall be, for I’ve been with Beth all the time.”

“That’s the very reason you ought to go away at once, so that you may escape it.  Change of air and care will keep you well, I dare say, or if it does not entirely, you will have the fever more lightly.  I advise you to be off as soon as you can, for scarlet fever is no joke, miss.”