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But, like all happiness, it did not last long, for as sure as she had just reached the heart of the story, the sweetest verse of a song, or the most perilous adventure of her traveler, a shrill voice called, "Josy-phine! Josy-phine!" and she had to leave her paradise to wind yarn, wash the poodle, or read Belsham's Essays by the hour together. Jo's ambition was to do something very splendid.
I don't envy her much, in spite of her money, for after all rich people have about as many worries as poor ones, I think," added Jo. "That reminds me," said Meg, "that I've got something to tell. It isn't funny, like Jo's story, but I thought about it a good deal as I came home.
He saw her looking round eagerly; what changes since she had last visited this house with her husband, or her lover, or both perhaps he did not know, could not say! All that was dark, and he wished to leave it so. But what changes! And in the hall he said: "My boy Jo's a painter, you know. He's got a lot of taste. It isn't mine, of course, but I've let him have his way."
But the rain, the giggling boys, the smiling Turk, and the sudden drop from royalty to insignificance had been rankling in Jo's mind. She sat back haughtily and remarked "But the Sirdar promised us a motor-car." "I will go and see if it is possible," said the Prefect, and he dashed out into the rain. He returned full of apologies.
"That I'm not!" acquiesced Laurie, with an expression of humility quite new to him, as he dropped his eyes and absently wound Jo's apron tassel round his finger. "Mercy on us, this will never do," thought Jo, adding aloud, "Go and sing to me. I'm dying for some music, and always like yours." "I'd rather stay here, thank you." "Well, you can't, there isn't room.
"Even Billy Andrews' boy is going and Jane's only son and Diana's little Jack," said Mrs. Blythe. "Priscilla's son has gone from Japan and Stella's from Vancouver and both the Rev. Jo's boys. Philippa writes that her boys 'went right away, not being afflicted with her indecision."
Indeed, the strain was plainly visible, for his face was worn and haggard. In his ears poor Jo's prayer was ringing, "Do somethin' Doc! My God Almighty, you jest got to do somethin'!" Turning from the window the doctor's eyes fell on his medicine case, which Uncle George had brought in from the buggy and placed near the hall door. "Why not?" he thought.
Here leaves glistened with raindrops there they looked dull. The trail was plain. What has happened? The footprint of a man, and no sight of tracks made by the girl! Hiram was unarmed. He had left his wagon too surprised to think of grabbing up the Colt that he carried. Should he go back now and get Jo's six-shooter? No, the rain was falling too fast.
"Tell me, friend, I entreat you," said the pastor earnestly, laying his hand on Jo's arm, "have you seen my child?" "Wot! are you the father o' the little gal? Why, I've seed her only half an hour since. But hold on, lads, come arter me an I'll steer you to where she is at this moment." "Thanks be to God," said Mr Mason, with a deep sigh of relief. "Lead on, my man, and, pray, go quickly."
The extra horses are white and black Jo's and Hiram's. I wonder what's the matter with Jo." "Huh!" snickered Drummond. "The package we handed her is enough to make anybody sick! But I don't just like the way things look, either. By golly, aren't we to know where we stand until Jo gets well!"
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