THE SURPRISE
Sadie Appleby and Nan Harrison waited below stairs, chatting with Mrs.
Morley while in her room above Jo crushed a felt hat over her dark hair
and regarded her reflection with an air of discouragement.
"You look like a wreck," she told her mirrored self. "If you could get
a little color in your face you might not look quite so much like a
ghost."
As Jo reached the head of the stairs she paused for a moment to listen
to the merry chatter of Nan and Sadie. Despite herself she felt hurt
that they should feel so gay when they could not help knowing how
downhearted she must be. Yesterday they had seemed to care whether
she went to Laurel Hall with them or not. To-day they appeared quite
reconciled to her staying home. Was it possible that Nan and Sadie, the
two chums from whom she had rarely ever been separated during their
years of work and fun together, should care so little for her as their
manner seemed to imply? If they did not care, then she would show them
that neither did she!
Jo shrugged her shoulders impatiently and forced a smile to her
quivering lips. She must not--must not!--allow herself to become morbid!
So it was a rather strained though smiling Jo who met her friends at
the foot of the stairs.
"All right, let's go," she said. "We won't be gone long, Mother. Is
there anything," as an afterthought, "that you need at the store?"
Mrs. Morley mentioned one or two articles, and Jo promised to bring
them home with her when she returned.
"How is your Aunt Emma?" Jo asked of Nan when they were once outside
the house.
"Amazingly fine!" Nan rejoined. "We have had the doctor in to see her
this morning, Jo, and he says that there is a wonderful improvement in
her. She seems to have taken a new hold on life and a new interest in
it."
"Oh, I'm glad!" cried Jo. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if she got well
after all?"
"She simply dotes on you," Sadie told her. "Nan says she talks of no
one else."
"And she wants to see you again this morning," Nan added.
Jo frowned.
"I'd love to see her, of course. But if she is going to thank me
again----"
"Nothing like that," Nan assured her buoyantly. "She just wants to see
you. Says it would brighten her up."
It was on the tip of Jo's tongue to say that it would be hard for her
to brighten any one up on that particular morning, but pride forbade
the words. If the girls had forgotten so soon the change in her affairs
that was nothing less than tragedy to her, then she would not remind
them of it!
She permitted her companions to lead her to the Harrison house, the
scene of all the excitement the previous afternoon.
"The fire was a false alarm in more senses than one," said Nan, as she
opened the gate. "The Jamesons' hired man cleared out the chimney for
us, and except for the dirt and the smoke grime on the woodwork, the
house is as good as ever. Even Aunt Emma's room isn't hurt," she added,
"although we've put her in the big front room until the paint can be
washed and her room made presentable again."
Jo felt numb and dazed, almost as her father must have felt when he
reached home the night before. It was so hard to pretend to be cheerful
and matter-of-fact when one's world was falling to pieces about one's
feet! She wanted to run away and hide herself in a corner and be openly
just as miserable as she felt.
But Sadie's arm was linked in hers. She would have to go on pretending
to be cheerful for a little while yet.
Her two chums took her up to the sunny front room where Miss Emma was
sitting, her face brighter than Jo ever remembered it.
Mrs. Harrison, seated beside the invalid, came forward as Jo entered
the room and kissed the girl affectionately.
"We owe you a great debt of gratitude, my dear," she said. "And now,"
with a glance over her shoulder at Miss Emma, "this lady has a request
to make of you."
"A request?" Jo echoed, wondering.
She looked toward the two girls as though for an explanation. Both Nan
and Sadie were smiling, and now Nan pushed her forward impatiently.
"Can't you see the lady wants to speak to you?" Sadie cried. "Don't
stand there staring like a ninny, Jo Morley!"
Miss Emma motioned with her thin hand to a place on the window seat
beside her chair.
"After what happened yesterday, I wanted to learn all about you, my
dear----"
"Indeed, she asked me about six million questions!" Nan interjected.
"Naturally I wanted to find out about the girl that saved my
life." Miss Emma made a quick imperative gesture as Jo would have
interrupted. "And I found out many things; among them," instinctively
the invalid's voice lowered, "that this girl, or rather her family, was
in serious trouble."
Jo nodded and turned her face away. Just then she could not trust
herself to speak.
"And what I want that girl to do," Aunt Emma continued while the
spectators of the little scene drew closer to the two chief actors in
it, "is to let me help, to try to repay the great debt I owe her."
As Jo looked up, wondering and a little startled, Miss Emma's hand
covered hers.
"If your father's business is so involved that he can't see his way
clear just now to sending you to Laurel Hall boarding school with Nan
and Sadie," Miss Emma hurried on, "then I want you to let me take his
place just now. I want you to let me send you instead. You will let me
do that, won't you, dear?"
Jo's heart leaped with sudden hope, even while she felt that she
could not accept so generous an offer. She was about to protest when
she caught a warning glance from Nan, who was stationed behind the
invalid's chair.
"Don't cross her!" was what Nan telegraphed. "It might prove serious!"
Jo, flustered, hardly knowing what reply to make, found herself
looking straight into Miss Emma's kindly, questioning eyes.
"The favor would be to me, my dear," Miss Harrison continued. "It is
a long time since I have been able to do anything for any one. If I
thought I had helped to make you happy, who have done so much for me,
that thought would give me a new interest in life, I think. You want to
go to Laurel Hall, don't you?"
The blood rushed to Jo's face, her eyes shone.
"Want to go!" she cried. Suddenly she saw her way clear before her.
"Oh, Miss Emma, you don't know how much I want to go! How wonderfully
good and kind you are to me! I will never forget it! Never!"
Clinging to the eager girl, Miss Emma seemed to draw strength from
the contact with glowing youth. Sitting there, sharing in the general
rejoicing, she looked younger than she had looked for years.
"It would have been cruel to have refused her, Jo."
It was some time later and the chums were on their way to Jo's home to
make definite plans for their departure for Laurel Hall.
In reply to Nan's observation Jo nodded.
"She had her heart set on it, and what a good heart she has! Imagine
her wanting to send me away to school just because I was able to help
a little yesterday. And, after all, what did I do?"
"Plenty, Miss Emma thinks," chuckled Sadie, and added with a gesture
toward the Morley house: "There's your mother on the porch. Are you
going to break the glad news to her now?"
"I'll say I am!"
Jo ran up the path to the house, took the porch steps two at a time,
seized Mrs. Morley by the hands, and whirled her about until that lady
scarcely knew which was her head and which her heels--at least, so she
said.
"Mother!" cried Jo, "I've got a surprise for you! Something wonderful
has happened! You will never guess what!"
"You'd better tell me," suggested her mother practically. "I can see
you're bursting with it."
"Well, then, listen! I'm going to Laurel Hall, after all!"