"My head aches and I'm tired, so I thought may be 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, the 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 for 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."

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