Little women

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN DARK DAYS

Beth did have the fever, and was much sicker than anyone but Hannahand the doctor suspected. The girls knew nothing about illness, and Mr.Laurence was not allowed to see her, so Hannah had everything her ownway, and busy Dr. Bangs did his best, but left a good deal to the excellentnurse. Meg stayed at home, lest she should infect the Kings, and kepthouse, feeling very anxious and a little guilty when she wrote letters inwhich no mention was made of Beth's illness. She could not think it rightto deceive her mother, but she had been bidden to mind Hannah, andHannah wouldn't hear of 'Mrs. March bein' told, and worried just for secha trifle.'

Jo devoted herself to Beth day and night, not a hard task, for Beth wasvery patient, and bore her pain uncomplainingly as long as she couldcontrol herself. But there came a time when during the fever fits she beganto talk in a hoarse, broken voice, to play on the coverlet as if on herbeloved little piano, and try to sing with a throat so swollen that there wasno music left, a time when she did not know the familiar faces around her,but addressed them by wrong names, and called imploringly for hermother. Then Jo grew frightened, Meg begged to be allowed to write thetruth, and even Hannah said she 'would think of it, though there was nodanger yet'. A letter from Washington added to their trouble, for Mr.March had had a relapse, and could not think of coming home for a longwhile.

How dark the days seemed now, how sad and lonely the house, and howheavy were the hearts of the sisters as they worked and waited, while theshadow of death hovered over the once happy home. Then it was thatMargaret, sitting alone with tears dropping often on her work, felt howrich she had been in things more precious than any luxuries money couldbuy—in love, protection, peace, and health, the real blessings of life. Thenit was that Jo, living in the darkened room, with that suffering little sisteralways before her eyes and that pathetic voice sounding in her ears,learned to see the beauty and the sweetness of Beth's nature, to feel howdeep and tender a place she filled in all hearts, and to acknowledge theworth of Beth's unselfish ambition to live for others, and make homehappy by that exercise of those simple virtues which all may possess, andwhich all should love and value more than talent, wealth, or beauty. AndAmy, in her exile, longed eagerly to be at home, that she might work forBeth, feeling now that no service would be hard or irksome, andremembering, with regretful grief, how many neglected tasks those willinghands had done for her. Laurie haunted the house like a restless ghost, andMr. Laurence locked the grand piano, because he could not bear to bereminded of the young neighbor who used to make the twilight pleasantfor him. Everyone missed Beth. The milkman, baker, grocer, and butcherinquired how she did, poor Mrs. Hummel came to beg pardon for herthoughtlessness and to get a shroud for Minna, the neighbors sent all sortsof comforts and good wishes, and even those who knew her best weresurprised to find how many friends shy little Beth had made.

Meanwhile she lay on her bed with old Joanna at her side, for even inher wanderings she did not forget her forlorn protege. She longed for hercats, but would not have them brought, lest they should get sick, and in herquiet hours she was full of anxiety about Jo. She sent loving messages toAmy, bade them tell her mother that she would write soon, and oftenbegged for pencil and paper to try to say a word, that Father might notthink she had neglected him. But soon even these intervals ofconsciousness ended, and she lay hour after hour, tossing to and fro, withincoherent words on her lips, or sank into a heavy sleep which brought herno refreshment. Dr. Bangs came twice a day, Hannah sat up at night, Megkept a telegram in her desk all ready to send off at any minute, and Jonever stirred from Beth's side.

The first of December was a wintry day indeed to them, for a bitterwind blew, snow fell fast, and the year seemed getting ready for its death.When Dr. Bangs came that morning, he looked long at Beth, held the hothand in both his own for a minute, and laid it gently down, saying, in a lowvoice to Hannah, "If Mrs. March can leave her husband she'd better be sentfor."