chapter 17 Little Faithful

For a week the amount of virtue in the old house would have supplied the neighbourhood. It was really amazing, for everyone seemed in a heavenly frame of mind, and self-denial was all the fashion. Relieved of their first anxiety about their father the girls insensibly relaxed their praiseworthy efforts a little, and began to fall back into the old ways. They did not forget their motto, but hoping and keeping busy seemed to grow easier; and after such tremendous exertions, they felt that Endeavor deserved a holiday, 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't like to hear people read with colds in their heads. Jo liked this, and after an energetic rummage from garret to cellar, subsided on the sofa to nurse her cold with arsenicum and books. Amy found that housework and art did not go well together, and returned to her mud pies. Meg went daily to her pupils, and sewed, or thought she did, at home, but much time was spent in writing long letters to her mother, or reading the Washington dispatches over and over. Beth kept on, with only slight relapses into idleness or grieving.

All the little duties were faithfully done each day, and many of her sisters' also, for they were forgetful, and the house seemed like a clock whose pendulum was gone a-visiting. When her heart got heavy with longings for Mother or fears for Father, she went away into a certain closet, hid her face in the folds of a certain dear old gown, and made her little moan and prayed her little prayer quietly by herself. Nobody knew what cheered her up after a sober fit, but everyone felt how sweet and helpful Beth was, and fell into a way of going to her for comfort or advice in their small affairs.

All were unconscious that this experience was a test of character; and when the first excitement was over, felt that they had done well, and deserved 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 us not to forget them,' said Beth, ten days after Mrs. March's departure.

I'm too tired to go this afternoon,' replied Meg, rocking comfortably as 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 to go to the Hummels', said Jo, laughing, but looking a little ashamed of her inconsistency.

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 do for it. Mrs. Hummel goes away to work, and Lottchen takes care of it; but it 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 air will do you good,' said Jo, adding apologetically, `I'd go, but I want to finish my writing.'

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

Amy will be in presently, and she will run down for us,' suggested Meg.

Well, I'll rest a little and wait for her.'

So Beth lay down on the sofa, and others returned to their work, and the Hummels were forgotten. An hour passed: Amy did not come; Meg went to her room to try on a new dress; Jo was absorbed in her story, and Hannah was sound asleep before the kitchen fire, when Beth quietly put on her hood, filled her basket with odds and ends f or the poor children, and went out into the chilly air, with a heavy head, and a grieved look in her patient eyes. It was late when she came back, and no one saw her creep upstairs and shut herself into her mother's room. Half an hour after, Jo went to `Mother's closet' for something, and there found Beth sitting on the medicine chest looking very grave, with red eyes, and a camphor-bottle in her hand.

Christopher Columbus! What's the matter?' cried Jo, as Beth put out her hand as if to warn her off, and asked quickly:

You've had the scarlet fever, haven't you?'

Years ago, when Meg did. Why?'

Then I'll tell you. Oh, Jo, the baby's dead!'

What baby?'

Mrs. Hummel's; it died in my lap before she got home,' cried Beth, with a sob.

My poor dear, how dreadful for you! I ought to have gone,' said Jo, taking her sister in her arms as she sat down in her mother's big chair, with a remorseful face.

It wasn't dreadful, Jo, only so sad! I saw in a minute that it was sicker, but Lottchen said her mother had gone for a doctor, so I took baby and let Lotty rest. It seemed asleep, but all of a sudden it gave a little cry, and trembled, and then lay very still. I tried to warm its feet, and Lotty gave it some milk, but it didn't stir, and I knew it was dead.'

Don't cry, dear! What did you do?'

I just sat and held it softly till Mrs. Hummel came with the doctor. He said it was dead, and looked at Heinrich and Minna, who have got sore throats. "Scarlet fever, ma'am. Ought to have called me before," he said, crossly. Mrs. Hummel told him she was poor, and had tried to cure baby herself, but now it was too late, and she could only ask him to help the others, and trust to charity for his pay. He smiled then, and was kinder; but it was very sad, and I cried with them till he turned round, all of a sudden, and told me to go home and take belladonna right away, or I'd have the fever.'

No, you won't!' cried Jo, hugging her close, with a frightened look. `Oh, Beth, if you should be sick I never could forgive myself! What shall we do?'

Don't be frightened, I guess I shan't have it badly. I looked in Mother's book, and saw that it begins with headache, sore throat, and queer feelings like mine, so I did take some belladonna, and I feel better,' said Beth, laying her cold hands on her hot forehead, and trying to look well.

If Mother was only at home!' exclaimed Jo, seizing the book, and feeling that Washington was an immense way off. She read a page, looked at Beth, felt her head, peeped into her throat, and then said gravely, `You've been over the baby for more than a week, and among the others who are going to have it; so I'm afraid you are going to have it, Beth. I'll call Hannah, she knows all about sickness.'

Don't let Amy come: she never had it, and I should hate to give it to her. Can't you and Meg have it over again?' asked Beth anxiously.

I guess not; don't care if I do; serve me right, selfish pig, to let you go, and stay writing rubbish myself!' muttered Jo, as she went to consult Hannah.

The good soul was wide awake in a minute, and took the lead at once, assuring Jo that there was no need to worry, everyone had scarlet fever, and, if rightly treated, nobody died - all of which Jo believed, and felt much relieved as they went up to call Meg.

Now I'll tell you what we'll do,' said Hannah, when she had examined and questioned Beth; `we will have Dr. Bangs, just to take a look at you, dear, and see that we start right; then we'll send Amy off to Aunt March's for a spell, to keep her out of harm's way, and one of you girls can stay at home and amuse Beth for a day or two.'

I shall stay, of course; I'm oldest,' began Meg, looking anxious and self-reproachful.

I shall, because it's my fault she is sick; I told Mother I'd do the errands, and I haven't,' said Jo, decidedly.

Which will you have, Beth? there ain't no need of but one,' said Hannah.

Jo, please,' and Beth leaned her head against her sister, with a contented look, which effectually settled that point.

I'll go and tell Amy,' said Meg, feeling a little hurt, yet rather relieved on the whole, for she did not like nursing, and Jo did.

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