ow you'd come, sir," he began, as Jo gave him a triumphant
little glance.

"That's evident, by the way you racket downstairs. Come to your tea,
sir, and behave like a gentleman." And having pulled the boy's hair by
way of a caress, Mr. Laurence walked on, while Laurie went through a
series of comic evolutions behind their backs, which nearly produced an
explosion of laughter from Jo.

The old gentleman did not say much as he drank his four cups of tea,
but he watched the young people, who soon chatted away like old
friends, and the change in his grandson did not escape him. There was
color, light, and life in the boy's face now, vivacity in his manner,
and genuine merriment in his laugh.

"She's right, the lad is lonely. I'll see what these little girls can
do for him," thought Mr. Laurence, as he looked and listened. He liked
Jo, for her odd, blunt ways suited him, and she seemed to understand
the boy almost as well as if she had been one herself.

If the Laurences had been what Jo called 'prim and poky', she would not
have got on at all, for such people always made her shy and awkward.
But finding them free and easy, she was so herself, and made a good
impression. When they rose she proposed to go, but Laurie said he had
something more to show her, and took her away to the conservatory,
which had been lighted for her benefit. It seemed quite fairylike to
Jo, as she went up and down the walks, enjoying the blooming walls on
either side, the soft light, the damp sweet air, and the wonderful
vines and trees that hung about her, while her new friend cut the
finest flowers till his hands were full. Then he tied them up, saying,
with the happy look Jo liked to see, "Please give these to your mother,
and tell her I like the medicine she sent me very much."

They found Mr. Laurence standing before the fire in the great drawing
room, but Jo's attention was entirely absorbed by a grand piano, which
stood open.

"Do you play?" she asked, turning to Laurie with a respectful
expression.

"Sometimes," he answered modestly.

"Please do now. I want to hear it, so I can tell Beth."

"Won't you first?"

"Don't know how. Too stupid to learn, but I love music dearly."

So Laurie played and Jo listened, with her nose luxuriously buried in
heliotrope and tea roses. Her respect and regard for the 'Laurence'
boy increased very much, for he played remarkably well and didn't put
on any airs. She wished Beth could hear