Laurie was signing and sealing as he spoke, and did not look up till a great tear dropped on the paper. Amy’s face was full of trouble; but she only said, “Don’t people put sort of postscripts to their wills, sometimes?”

“Yes; ‘codicils,’ they call them.”

“Put one in mine then⁠—that I wish all my curls cut off, and given round to my friends. I forgot it; but I want it done, though it will spoil my looks.”

Laurie added it, smiling at Amy’s last and greatest sacrifice. Then he amused her for an hour, and was much interested in all her trials. But when he came to go, Amy held him back to whisper, with trembling lips, “Is there really any danger about Beth?”

“I’m afraid there is; but we must hope for the best, so don’t cry, dear;” and Laurie put his arm about her with a brotherly gesture which was very comforting.