“But it’s dull at Aunt March’s, and she is so cross,” said Amy, looking rather frightened.

“It won’t be dull with me popping in every day to tell you how Beth is, and take you out gallivanting.  The old lady likes me, and I’ll be as sweet as possible to her, so she won’t peck at us, whatever we do.”

“Will you take me out in the trotting wagon with Puck?”

“On my honor as a gentleman.”

“And come every single day?”

“See if I don’t!”

“And bring me back the minute Beth is well?”

“The identical minute.”

“And go to the theater, truly?”

“A dozen theaters, if we may.”

“Well—­I guess I will,” said Amy slowly.

“Good girl!  Call Meg, and tell her you’ll give in,” said Laurie, with an approving pat, which annoyed Amy more than the ‘giving in’.

Meg and Jo came running down to behold the miracle which had been wrought, and Amy, feeling very precious and self-sacrificing, promised to go, if the doctor said Beth was going to be ill.

“How is the little dear?” asked Laurie, for Beth was his especial pet, and he felt more anxious about her than he liked to show.

“She is lying down on Mother’s bed, and feels better.  The baby’s death troubled her, but I dare say she has only got cold.  Hannah says she thinks so, but she looks worried, and that makes me fidgety,” answered Meg.

“What a trying world it is!” said Jo, rumpling up her hair in a fretful way.  “No sooner do we get out of one trouble than down comes another.  There doesn’t seem to be anything to hold on to when Mother’s gone, so I’m all at sea.”

“Well, don’t make a porcupine of yourself, it isn’t becoming.  Settle your wig, Jo, and tell me if I shall telegraph to your mother, or do anything?” asked Laurie, who never had been reconciled to the loss of his friend’s one beauty.

“That is what troubles me,” said Meg.  “I think we ought to tell her if Beth is really ill, but Hannah says we mustn’t, for Mother can’t leave Father, and it will only make them anxious.  Beth won’t be sick long, and Hannah knows just what to do, and Mother said we were to mind her, so I suppose we must, but it doesn’t seem quite right to me.”

“Hum, well, I can’t say.  Suppose you ask Grandfather after the doctor has been.”

“We will.  Jo, go and get Dr. Bangs at once,” commanded Meg.  “We can’t decide anything till he has been.”

“Stay where you are, Jo.  I’m errand boy to this establishment,” said Laurie, taking up his cap.

“I’m afraid you are busy,” began Meg.

“No, I’ve done my lessons for the day.”

“Do you study in vacation time?” asked Jo.

“I follow the good example my neighbors set me,” was Laurie’s answer, as he swung himself out of the room.

“I have great hopes for my boy,” observed Jo, watching him fly over the fence with an approving smile.