"Grandpa does, sometimes; but my books don't interest him, and I hate to ask Brooke all the time."
"Have some one come and see you, then."
"There isn't any one I'd like to see. Boys make such a row, and my head is weak."
"Isn't there some nice girl who'd read and amuse you? Girls are quiet, and like to play nurse."
"Don't know any."
"You know me," began Jo, then laughed, and stopped.
"So I do! Will you come, please?" cried Laurie.
"I'm not quiet and nice; but I'll come, if mother will let me. I'll go ask her. Shut that window, like a good boy, and wait till I come."
With that, Jo shouldered her broom and marched into the house, wondering what they would all say to her. Laurie was in a little flutter of excitement at the idea of having company, and flew about to get ready; for, as Mrs. March said, he was "a little gentleman," and did honor to the coming guest by brushing his curly pate, putting on a fresh collar, and trying to tidy up the room, which, in spite of half a dozen servants, was anything but neat. Presently, there came a loud ring, then a decided voice, asking for "Mr. Laurie," and a surprised-looking servant came running up to announce a young lady.
"All right, show her up, it's Miss Jo," said Laurie, going to the door of his little parlor to meet Jo, who appeared, looking rosy and kind, and quite at her ease, with a covered dish in one hand, and Beth's three kittens in the other.
"Here I am, bag and baggage," she said, briskly.