Church Cross in the Wilderness painting

"Yes, Jo," after a long pause.
"Wouldn't it comfort you to tell me what it is?"
"Not now, not yet."
"Then I won't ask, but remember, Bethy, that Mother and Jo are always glad to hear and help you, if they can."
"I know it. I'll tell you by-and-by."
"Is the pain better now?"
"Oh, yes, much better, you are so comfortable, Jo."
"Go to sleep, dear. I'll stay with you."
So cheek to cheek they fell asleep, and on the morrow Beth seemed quite herself again, for at eighteen neither heads nor hearts ache long, and a loving word can medicine most ills.
But Jo had made up her mind, and after pondering over a project for some days, she confided it to her mother.
"You asked me the other day what my wishes were. I'll tell you one of them, Marmee," she began, as they sat along together. "I want to go away somewhere this winter for a change."
"Why, Jo?" And her mother looked up quickly, as if the words suggested a double meaning.