‘I’m here, hold on to me, Jo, dear!’

She could not speak, but she did ‘hold on,’ and the warm grasp of the friendly human hand comforted her sore heart, and seemed to lead her nearer to the Divine arm which alone could uphold her in her trouble. Laurie longed to say something tender and comfortable, but no fitting words came to him, so he stood silent, gently stroking her bent head as her mother used to do. It was the best thing he could have done; far more soothing than the most eloquent words, for Jo felt the unspoken sympathy, and, in the silence, learned the sweet solace which affection administers to sorrow. Soon she dried the tears which had relieved her, and looked up with a grateful face.

‘Thank you, Teddy, I’m better now; I don’t feel so forlorn, and will try to bear it if it comes.’

‘Keep hoping for the best; that will help you lots, Jo. Soon your mother will be here, and then everything will be right.’

‘I’m so glad father is better; now she won’t feel so bad about leaving him. Oh, me! it does seem as if all the troubles came in a heap, and I got the heaviest part on my shoulders,’ sighed Jo, spreading her wet handkerchief over her knees, to dry.

‘Don’t Meg pull fair?’ asked Laurie, looking indignant.

‘Oh, yes; she tries to, but she don’t love Bethy as I do; and she won’t miss her as I shall. Beth is my conscience, and I can’t give her up; I can’t! I can’t!’

Down went Jo’s face into the wet handkerchief, and she cried despairingly; for she had kept up bravely till now, and never shed a tear. Laurie drew his hand across his eyes, but could not speak till he had subdued the choky feeling in his throat, and steadied his lips. It might be unmanly, but he couldn’t help it, and I am glad of it. Presently, as Jo’s sobs quieted, he said, hopefully, ‘I don’t think she will die; she’s so good, and we all love her so much, I don’t believe God will take her away yet.’

‘The good and dear people always do die,’ groaned Jo, but she stopped crying, for her friend’s words cheered her up, in spite of her own doubts and fears.

‘Poor girl! you’re worn out. It isn’t like you to be forlorn. Stop a bit; I’ll hearten you up in a jiffy.’

Laurie went off two stairs at a time, and Jo laid her wearied head down on Beth’s little brown hood, which no one had thought of moving from the table where she left it. It must have possessed some magic, for the submissive spirit of its gentle owner seemed to enter into Jo; and, when Laurie came running down with a glass of wine, she took it with a smile, and said, bravely, ‘I drink—Health to my Beth! You are a good doctor, Teddy, and such a comfortable friend; how can I ever pay you?’ she added, as the wine refreshed her body, as the kind words had done her troubled mind.