“She’s right, the lad is lonely.  I’ll see what these little girls can do for him,” thought Mr. Laurence, as he looked and listened.  He liked Jo, for her odd, blunt ways suited him, and she seemed to understand the boy almost as well as if she had been one herself.

If the Laurences had been what Jo called ‘prim and poky’, she would not have got on at all, for such people always made her shy and awkward.  But finding them free and easy, she was so herself, and made a good impression.  When they rose she proposed to go, but Laurie said he had something more to show her, and took her away to the conservatory, which had been lighted for her benefit.  It seemed quite fairylike to Jo, as she went up and down the walks, enjoying the blooming walls on either side, the soft light, the damp sweet air, and the wonderful vines and trees that hung about her, while her new friend cut the finest flowers till his hands were full.  Then he tied them up, saying, with the happy look Jo liked to see, “Please give these to your mother, and tell her I like the medicine she sent me very much.”

They found Mr. Laurence standing before the fire in the great drawing room, but Jo’s attention was entirely absorbed by a grand piano, which stood open.

“Do you play?” she asked, turning to Laurie with a respectful expression.

“Sometimes,” he answered modestly.

“Please do now.  I want to hear it, so I can tell Beth.”

“Won’t you first?”

“Don’t know how.  Too stupid to learn, but I love music dearly.”

So Laurie played and Jo listened, with her nose luxuriously buried in heliotrope and tea roses.  Her respect and regard for the ‘Laurence’ boy increased very much, for he played remarkably well and didn’t put on any airs.  She wished Beth could hear him, but she did not say so, only praised him till he was quite abashed, and his grandfather came to his rescue.

“That will do, that will do, young lady.  Too many sugarplums are not good for him.  His music isn’t bad, but I hope he will do as well in more important things.  Going? well, I’m much obliged to you, and I hope you’ll come again.  My respects to your mother.  Good night, Doctor Jo.”

He shook hands kindly, but looked as if something did not please him.  When they got into the hall, Jo asked Laurie if she had said something amiss.  He shook his head.

“No, it was me.  He doesn’t like to hear me play.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll tell you some day.  John is going home with you, as I can’t.”

“No need of that.  I am not a young lady, and it’s only a step.  Take care of yourself, won’t you?”

“Yes, but you will come again, I hope?”

“If you promise to come and see us after you are well.”

“I will.”

“Good night, Laurie!”

“Good night, Jo, good night!”

When all the afternoon’s adventures had been told, the family felt inclined to go visiting in a body, for each found something very attractive in the big house on the other side of the hedge.  Mrs. March wanted to talk of her father with the old man who had not forgotten him, Meg longed to walk in the conservatory, Beth sighed for the grand piano, and Amy was eager to see the fine pictures and statues.