Nelly hesitated, and finally said:—
"Arthur says he won't go!"
"Won't go!" exclaimed Mrs. March: "what does he mean?"
"He is going to ask his father to ask you to let him stay here with us," replied Nelly. "I thought he might sleep in Rob's bed. Rob says he'd just as soon sleep on the lounge; and I thought you'd be willing. He's such a poor dear! I could take all the care of him."
"Would you really like to have him?" said Mrs. March.
"Oh, yes, indeed, mamma, ever so much! I love him as well as I do Rob,—almost: not quite, I guess, because he isn't my own brother; but it is so hard for him to be sick, that makes me love him more."
"Mr. and Mrs. Cook came down here last night to ask us to let you and Rob go back to New York with them for the winter," said Mrs. March, very quietly, watching Nelly's face as she spoke.
It turned scarlet in one second, and the voice was almost a shriek in which Nelly cried out:—
"Oh, mamma! how perfectly splendid! Can we go?"
Then in the very next second she said:—