Little women

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN LITTLE FAITHFUL

For a week the amount of virtue in the old house would have suppliedthe neighborhood. It was really amazing, for everyone seemed in aheavenly frame of mind, and self-denial was all the fashion. Relieved oftheir first anxiety about their father, the girls insensibly relaxed theirpraiseworthy efforts a little, and began to fall back into old ways. They didnot forget their motto, but hoping and keeping busy seemed to grow easier,and after such tremendous exertions, they felt that Endeavor deserved aholiday, and gave it a good many.

Jo caught a bad cold through neglect to cover the shorn head enough,and was ordered to stay at home till she was better, for Aunt March didn'tlike to hear people read with colds in their heads. Jo liked this, and after anenergetic rummage from garret to cellar, subsided on the sofa to nurse hercold with arsenicum and books. Amy found that housework and art did notgo well together, and returned to her mud pies. Meg went daily to herpupils, and sewed, or thought she did, at home, but much time was spent inwriting long letters to her mother, or reading the Washington dispatchesover and over. Beth kept on, with only slight relapses into idleness orgrieving. 

All the little duties were faithfully done each day, and many of hersisters' also, for they were forgetful, and the house seemed like a clockwhose pendulum was gone a-visiting. When her heart got heavy withlongings for Mother or fears for Father, she went away into a certaincloset, hid her face in the folds of a dear old gown, and made her littlemoan and prayed her little prayer quietly by herself. Nobody knew whatcheered her up after a sober fit, but everyone felt how sweet and helpfulBeth was, and fell into a way of going to her for comfort or advice in theirsmall affairs. 

All were unconscious that this experience was a test of character, andwhen the first excitement was over, felt that they had done well anddeserved praise. So they did, but their mistake was in ceasing to do well,and they learned this lesson through much anxiety and regret. 

"Meg, I wish you'd go and see the Hummels. You know Mother told usnot to forget them." said Beth, ten days after Mrs. March's departure. 

"I'm too tired to go this afternoon," replied Meg, rocking comfortablyas she sewed. 

"Can't you, Jo?" asked Beth. 

"Too stormy for me with my cold." 

"I thought it was almost well." 

"It's well enough for me to go out with Laurie, but not well enough togo to the Hummels'," said Jo, laughing, but looking a little ashamed of herinconsistency. 

"Why don't you go yourself?" asked Meg.

"I have been every day, but the baby is sick, and I don't know what to dofor it. Mrs. Hummel goes away to work, and Lottchen takes care of it. Butit gets sicker and sicker, and I think you or Hannah ought to go." 

Beth spoke earnestly, and Meg promised she would go tomorrow. 

"Ask Hannah for some nice little mess, and take it round, Beth, the airwill do you good," said Jo, adding apologetically, "I'd go but I want tofinish my writing." 

"My head aches and I'm tired, so I thought maybe some of you wouldgo," said Beth. 

"Amy will be in presently, and she will run down for us," suggestedMeg.

So Beth lay down on the sofa, the others returned to their work, and theHummels were forgotten. An hour passed. Amy did not come, Meg wentto her room to try on a new dress, Jo was absorbed in her story, andHannah was sound asleep before the kitchen fire, when Beth quietly put onher hood, filled her basket with odds and ends for the poor children, andwent out into the chilly air with a heavy head and a grieved look in herpatient eyes. It was late when she came back, and no one saw her creepupstairs and shut herself into her mother's room. Half an hour after, Jowent to 'Mother's closet' for something, and there found little Beth sittingon the medicine chest, looking very grave, with red eyes and a camphorbottle in her hand.