17. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"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.
"He does very well, for a boy," was Meg's somewhat ungracious
answer, for the subject did not interest her.