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"It's the weather. Have them send you up a pot of black tea." "When you've got neuralgy over your right eye," observed Sadie Corn grimly, "there's just one thing helps that is to crawl into bed in a flannel nightgown, with the side of your face resting on the red rubber bosom of a hot-water bottle. And I can't do it; so let's talk about something cheerful. Seen Jo to-day?"
All that day Auntie Sue wondered about Judy, while Brian and Betty Jo exhausted their inventive faculties in efforts to satisfy the dear old lady with plausible reasons for the mountain girl's disappearance.
Keeping his gravity with an effort, Teddy pointed to a very bad portrait of Mrs Jo, which hung behind the door, and afforded her much amusement, it was so dismal, in spite of a curious effect of light upon the end of the nose and cheeks as red as the chair she sat in.
No more skylarking except here, so mind your ways, and do honour to your buttons, said Mrs Jo, tapping one of the very bright brass ones that ornamented the new suit Emil was so proud of. 'I'll do my best. I had a long talk with Uncle last night and got my orders; I won't forget 'em nor all I owe him.
This grew to a kind of childish terror; then slowly, as a shadow passes, the perplexity, anxiety and terror cleared away, and left his forehead calm, his eyes unvexed and peaceful. The monocle dropped, and he did not heed it. At length he said wearily, and with an incredibly simple dependence: "I am thirsty now." Jo lifted a wooden bowl to his lips, and he drank, drank, drank to repletion.
"Yes?" he returned; but he really looked altogether too happy to be exceedingly serious. "Yes," she continued, "I have. As your accredited business agent and " she favored him with a Betty Jo smile "shall I say manager?" "Why not managing owner?" he retorted.
Jo rather prided herself upon her shopping capabilities, and particularly wished to impress her escort with the neatness and dispatch with which she would accomplish the business. But owing to the flutter she was in, everything went amiss.
Perhaps it would be a little girl, and she would feel like having Ellen over again. She was bitterly disappointed when Ellen showed no signs of obliging her quickly, and indeed quite shocked by her sister's expressed indifference on the matter. "I don't care about children, Jo, and I'm over young to have one of my own." "Young! You're rising twenty, and mother was but eighteen when I was born."
How would three thousand sound to you, Jo? Is that about the figure now, tell me?" Jo turned a wondering face toward his old mother. "Well, did you ever hear the beat of that, maw?" he cried, "Mr. Rollins has just guessed the size of my pile to a dollar, because it was just three thousand old Aunt Libby left me a few dollars over p'raps.
So, when this Chinaman handed back the drawing to Jo, Quang Po smiled and said the kindest thing he could think of, although the drawing did not accord with his Chinese ideas of art. "You draw like Melican," said Quang Po, winding his queue about his head, and preparing to return to work. Jo felt somewhat ashamed. He wished that he and the other boys had not cut the sinkers off Quang Po's big net.
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