 CHAPTER 15 On the Shelf In France the young girls have a dull time of it till they are married, when Viva la motto. In America, as everyone knows, girls early sign the Declaration of Independence and enjoy their freedom with republic and zest, but the young matrons usually abdicate with the first heir to the throne and go into his occlusion almost as close as a French nunnery, though by no means as quiet. Whether they like it or not they are virtually put upon the shelf as soon as the wedding excitement is over, and most of them exclaim, as did a very pretty woman the other day. I am as handsome as ever, but no one takes any notice of me because I am married. Not being a belle or even a fashionable lady, Meg did not experience as affliction till her babies were a year old, for in her little world primitive customs prevailed, and she found herself more admired and beloved than ever. As she was a womanly little woman, the maternal instinct was very strong, and she was entirely absorbed in her children to the utter exclusion of everything and everybody else. Day and night she brooded over them with tireless devotion and anxiety, leaving John to the tender mercies of the help, for an Irish lady now presided over the kitchen department. Being a domestic man John decidedly missed the wifely attention he had been accustomed to receive, but as he adored his babies he cheerfully relinquished his comfort for a time, supposing with masculine ignorance that peace would soon be restored. But three months passed, and there was no return of repose. Meg looked worn and nervous, the babies absorbed every minute of her time, the house was neglected, and Kitty the cook, who took life easy, kept him on short commons. When he went out in the morning he was bewildered by small commissions for the captive mama. If he came gaily in at night, eager to embrace his family, he was quenched by a hash there just asleep after worrying all day. If he proposed a little amusement at home, now it would disturb the babies. If he hinted at a lecture or a concert, he was answered with a reproachful look, and he decided, Leave my children for pleasure, never! His sleep was broken by infant whales and visions of a phantom figure pacing noiselessly to and fro in the watches of the night. His meals were interrupted by the frequent flight of the presiding genius, who deserted him, half-helped, if a muffled chirp sounded from the nest above. And when he read his paper of an evening, Demi's colic got into the shipping list, and Daisy's fall affected the price of stocks, for Mrs. Brook was only interested in domestic news. The poor man was very uncomfortable, for the children had bereft him of his wife. Home was merely a nursery and the perpetual hashing made him feel like a brutal intruder whenever he entered the sacred precincts of babyland. He bore it very patiently for six months, and when no signs of amendment appeared, he did what other paternal exiles do, tried to get a little comfort elsewhere. Scott had married and gone to housekeeping not far off, and John fell into the way of running over for an hour or two of an evening, when his own parlor was empty, and his own wife singing lullabies that seemed to have no end. Mrs. Scott was a lively pretty girl, with nothing to do but be agreeable, and she performed her mission most successfully. The parlor was always bright and attractive, the chess board ready, the piano in tune, plenty of gay gossip, and a nice little supper set forth in tempting style. John would have preferred his own fireside, if it had not been so lonely, but as it was he gratefully took the next best thing and enjoyed his neighbor's society. Meg rather approved of the new arrangement at first, and found a relief to know that John was having a good time instead of dozing in the parlor or tramping about the house and waking the children. But by and by when the teething worry was over, and the idols went to sleep at proper hours, leaving Mama time to rest, she began to miss John, and find her workbath at Dole Company, when he was not sitting opposite in his old dressing-gown, comfortably scorching as slippers on the fender. She would not ask him to stay at home, but felt injured because he did not know that she wanted him without being told, entirely forgetting the many evenings he had waited for her in vain. She was nervous, and worn out with watching and worry, and in that unreasonable frame of mind which the best of mothers occasionally experience, when domestic cares oppress them, want of exercise robs them of cheerfulness, and too much devotion to that idol of American women, the teapot, makes them feel as if they were all nerve and no muscle. Yes, she would say, looking in the glass, I'm getting old and ugly. John does not find me interesting any longer, so he leaves his faded wife and goes to see his pretty neighbor, who has no encumbrances. While the babies love me, they don't care if I'm thin and pale, and have no time to crimp my hair, they are my comfort, and some day John will see what I've gladly sacrificed for them, won't he, my precious? To which pathetic appeal Daisy would answer with a coup, or zemmine with a crow, and Meg would put by her lamentations for a maternal revel, which soothed her solitude for the time being. But the pain increased as politics absorbed John, who was always running over to discuss interesting points with God. Quite unconscious that Meg missed him. Not a word did she say, however, till her mother found her in tears one day, and insisted on knowing what the matter was, for Meg's drooping spirits had not escaped her observation. I wouldn't tell anyone except you, mother, but I really do need advice, for if John goes on much longer I might as well be widowed! replied Mrs. Brooke, drying her tears on Daisy's bib with an injured air. Goes on how, my dear? asked her mother anxiously. He's away all day, and at night when I want to see him he's continually going over to the Scots. It isn't fair that I should have the hardest work and never any amusement. Men are very selfish, even the best of them. So are women. Don't blame John till you see where you are wrong yourself, but it can't be right for him to neglect me. Don't you neglect him? Why, mother, I thought you'd take my part. So I do, as far as sympathizing goes, but I think the fault is yours, Meg. I don't see how. Let me show you. Did John ever neglect you, as you call it, while you made it a point to give him your society of an evening, his only leisure time? No, but I can't do it now with two babies to tend. I think you could, dear, and I think you ought. May I speak quite freely, and will you remember that it's mother who blames as well as mother who sympathizes? Indeed I will. Speak to me as if I were little Meg again. I often feel as if I needed teaching more than ever since these babies looked to me for everything. Meg drew her low chair beside her mother's, and with a little interruption in the idolab, the two women rocked and talked lovingly together, feeling that the tie of motherhood made them more one than ever. You have only made the mistake that most young wives make, forgotten your duty to your husband, in your love for your children, a very natural and forgivable mistake, Meg, but one that had better be remedied before you take to different ways. For children should draw you nearer than ever, not separate you, as if they were all yours, and John had nothing to do but support them. I've seen it for some weeks, but have not spoken, feeling sure it would come right in time. I'm afraid it won't. If I ask him to stay, he'll think I'm jealous, and I wouldn't insult him by such an idea. He doesn't see that I want him, and I don't know how to tell him without words. Make it so pleasant, he won't want to go away. My dear, he's longing for his little home, but it isn't home without you, and you are always in the nursery. Autentite to be there? Not all the time. Too much confinement makes you nervous, and then you are unfitted for everything. Besides, you owe something to John as well as to the babies. Don't neglect husband for children. Don't shut him out of the nursery, but teach him how to help in it. His place is there as well as yours, and the children need him. Let him feel that he has a part to do, and he will do it gladly and faithfully, and it will be better for you all. You really think so, mother? I know what make for I've tried it, and I seldom give advice unless I've proved its practicability. When you and Joe were little, I went on just as you are, feeling as if I didn't do my duty unless I devoted myself wholly to you. Poor father took to his books. After I'd refused all offers of help, and left me to try my experiment alone. I struggled along as well as I could, but Joe was too much for me. I nearly spoiled her by indulgence. You were poorly, and I worried about you till I fell sick myself. Then father came to the rescue, quietly managed everything, and made himself so helpful that I saw my mistake, and never had been able to go on without him since. That is the secret of our home happiness. He does not let business wean him from the little cares and duties that affect us all, and I try not to let domestic worries destroy my interest in his pursuits. Each do our part alone in many things, but at home we work together always. It is so, mother, and my great wish is to be to my husband and children what you have been to yours. Show me how I'll do anything you say. You are always my docile daughter. Well, dear, if I were you, I'd let John have more to do with the management of Demi, for the boy needs training, and it's none too soon to begin. Then I'd do what I have, often proposed. Let Hannah come and help you. She's a capital nurse, and you may trust the precious babies to her while you do more housework. You need the exercise, Hannah would enjoy the rest, and John would find his wife again. Go out more, keep cheerful as well as busy, for you are the sunshine maker of the family, and if you get dismal, there is no fair weather. Then I try to take an interest in whatever John likes. Talk with him, let him read to you, exchange ideas, and help each other in that way. Don't shut yourself up in a banned box because you are a woman, but understand what is going on, and educate yourself to take your part in the world's work, for it all affects you and yours. John is so sensible, I'm afraid he'll think I'm stupid if I ask questions about politics and things. I don't believe he would. Love covers a multitude of sins, and of whom could you ask more fully than of him? Try it, and see if he doesn't find your society far more agreeable than Mrs. Scott suffers. I will, poor John. I'm afraid I have neglected him, sadly. But I thought I was right, and he never said anything. He tried not to be selfish, but he has felt rather for Lorne I fancy. This is just the time, Meg, when young married people are apt to grow apart, and the very time when they ought to be most together, for the first tenderness soon wears off, and less care is taken to preserve it, and no time is so beautiful and precious to parents as the first years of the little lives given to them to train. Don't let John be a stranger to the babies, for they will do more to keep him safe and happy in this world of trial and temptation than anything else, and through them you will learn to know and love one another as you should. Now, dear goodbye, think over mother's preachment, act upon it if it seems good, and God bless you all. Meg did think it over, found it good, and acted upon it, though the first attempt was not made exactly as she planned to have it. Of course the children tyrannized over her, and ruled the house as soon as they found out that kicking and squalling brought them whatever they wanted. Mama was an abject slave to their comprises, but Papa was not so easily subjugated, and occasionally afflicted his tender spouse by an attempt at paternal discipline with his obstreperous son, for Demi inherited a trifle of a sire's firmness of character. We won't call it obstinacy. And when he made up his little mind to have or to do anything, all the king's horses and all the king's men could not change that pertinacious little mind. Mama thought that they are too young to be taught to conquer his prejudices, but Papa believed that it was never too soon to learn obedience. So Master Demi early discovered that when he undertook to wrestle with Papa, he always got the worst of it. Yet like the Englishman, Baby respected the men who conquered him and loved the father whose grave, no-no, was more impressive than all Mama's love-pats. A few days after the talk with her mother, Meg resolved to try a social evening with John, so she ordered a nice supper, set the parlor in order, dressed herself prettily, and put the children to bed early. That nothing should interfere with her experiment. But unfortunately Demi's most unconquerable prejudice was against going to bed, and that night he decided to go on a rampage. So poor Meg sang and rocked, told stories, and tried every sleep-provoking while she could devise. But all in vain, the big eyes wouldn't shut, and long after Daisy had gone to Bylo, like the chubby little bunch of good nature she was, Naughty Demi lay staring at the light with the most discouragingly, wide-awake expression of countenance. Will Demi lie still like a good boy, while Mama runs down and gives poor Papa his tea, asked Meg, as the hall door softly closed, and the well-known step went tiptoeing into the dining-room. Me has tea, said Demi, preparing to join in the revel. No, but I'll save you some little cakeies for breakfast, if you'll go bye-bye like Daisy, will you, lovey? Yes! And Demi shut his eyes tight as if to catch sleep and hurry the desired day, taking advantage of the propitious moment. Meg slipped away and ran down to greet her husband with a smiling face, and the little blue bow in her hair, which was his special admiration. He saw it at once, and said with pleased surprise, Why, little mother, how gay you are tonight! Do we expect company? Only you, dear. No, I'm tired of being Naughty, so I dressed up as a change. You always make yourself nice for table, no matter how tired you are, so why shouldn't I when I have the time? I do it out of respect for you, my dear, said old-fashioned John. Ditto, ditto, Mr. Brook, laughed Meg, looking young and pretty again, as she nodded to him over the teapot. Well, it's altogether delightful and like old times. This tastes right. I drink to your health, dear. And John sipped his tea with an air of reposeful rapture, which was a very short duration, however, for as he put down his cup, the door handle rattled mysteriously, and a little voice was heard, saying impatiently, Obedo, mistamen! It's that naughty boy! I told him to go to sleep alone, and here he is downstairs, getting his death a cold pattering over that canvas, said Meg, answering the call. Mornin' now! Announced Demi in joyful tones as he entered, with his long nightgown gracefully festooned over his arm, and every curl bobbing gaily as he pranced about the table, eyeing the cakeies with loving glances. No, it isn't— Mornin' yet. You must go to bed and not trouble poor mama, then you can have a little cake with sugar on it. Me loves par par, said the artful one, preparing to climb the paternal knee and revel in forbidden joys, but John shook his head and said to Meg, if you told him to stay up there and go to sleep alone, make him do it, or he will never learn to mind. Yes, of course. Come, Demi! And Meg led her son away, feeling a strong desire to spank the little Marplot, who hopped beside her, laboring under the delusion that the bribe was to be administered as soon as they've reached the nursery. Nor was he disappointed, for that short-sighted woman actually gave him a lump of sugar, tucked him into his bed, and forbade any more promonades till morning. Es, said Demi, the perjured, blissfully sucking his sugar and regarding his first attempt, as eminently successful. Meg returned to her place, and supper was progressing pleasantly, when the little ghost walked again and exposed the maternal delinquencies by boldly demanding. More so than Marmar? No, this won't do, said John, hardening his heart against the engaging little sinner. We shall never know any peace till that child learns to go to bed properly. You have made a slave of yourself long enough. Give him one lesson, and then there will be an end of it. Put him in his bed and leave him, Meg. He won't stay there. He never does unless I sit by him. I'll manage him. Demi, go upstairs and get into your bed as Mama bid you. Sand, replied the young rebel, helping himself to the coveted cakey and beginning to eat the same with calm audacity. You must never say that to Papa. I shall carry you if you don't go yourself. Go away! Me don't love Par Par! And Demi retired to his mother's skirts for protection. But even that refuge proved unavailing, for he was delivered over to the enemy with a be gentle with him, John, which struck the culprit with dismay. For when Mama deserted him, then the judgment day was at hand. Bereft of his cake, defrauded of his frolic, and borne away by a strong hand to that detested bed, poor Demi could not restrain his wrath, but openly defied Papa, and kicked, and screamed the lustily all the way upstairs. The minute he was put into bed on one side, he rolled out on the other, and made for the door, only to be anomalously caught up by the tail of his little toga and put back again, which lively performance was kept up till the young man's strength gave out, when he devoted himself to roaring at the top of his voice. This vocal exercise usually conquered Meg, but John sat as unmoved as the post, which is popularly believed to be death. No coaxing, no sugar, no lullaby, no story, even the light was put out in only the red glow of the fire and livened the big dark, which Demi regarded with curiosity rather than fear. This new order of things disgusted him, and he held dismally from Mar-Mar, as his angry passions subsided, and recollections of his tender bond-woman returned to the captive autocrat. The plaint of Whale, which seceded the passionate roar, went to Meg's heart, and she ran up to say beseechingly, let me stay with him, he'll be good now, John. No, my dear, I've told him he must go to sleep as you bid him, and he must, if I stay here all night. But he'll cry himself sick, pleaded Meg, reproaching herself for deserting her boy. No, he won't. He's so tired he will soon drop off, and then the matter settled, for he will understand that he has got to mind. Don't interfere, I'll manage him. He's my child, and I can't have a spirit broken by harshness. He's my child, and I won't have his temper spoiled by indulgence. Go down, my dear, and leave the boy to me. When John spoke in that masterful tone, Meg always obeyed, and never regretted her docility. Please let me kiss him once, John. Certainly. Demi, say good night to Mama, and let her go and rest, for she is very tired with taking care of you all day. Meg always insisted upon it that the kiss won the victory, for after it was given, Demi sobbed more quietly, and lay quiet still at the bottom of the bed, whether he had wriggled in his anguish of mind. Poor little man, he's worn out with sleep and crying. I'll cover him up, and then go and set Meg's heart at rest, thought John, creeping to the bedside, hoping to find his rebellious air of sleep. But he wasn't. For the moment his father peeped at him, Demi's eyes opened, his little chin began to quiver, and he put up his arms, saying with a penitent hiccup, Ah, he's dug now! Sitting on the stairs outside, Meg wondered at the long silence which followed the uproar, and after imagining all sorts of impossible accidents, she slipped into the room to set her fears at rest. Demi lay fast asleep, not in his usual spread eagle attitude, but in a subdued bunch cuddled close in the circle of his father's arm and holding his father's finger, as if he felt that justice was tempered with mercy, and had gone to sleep a sadder and wiser baby. So held, John had waited with the womanly patience, till the little hand relaxed at hold, and while waiting had fallen asleep, more tired by that tussle with the sun than with his whole day's work. As Meg stood watching the two faces on the pillow, she smiled to herself, and then slipped away again, saying in a satisfied tone, I never need fear that John will be too harsh with my babies. He does know how to manage them, and will be a great help for Demi is getting too much for me. When John came down at last, expecting to find a pensive or approachful wife, he was agreeably surprised to find Meg placidly trimming a bonnet, and to be greeted with a request to read something about the election, if he was not too tired. John saw in a minute that a revolution of some kind was going on, but wisely asked no questions. Knowing that Meg was such a transparent little person, she couldn't keep a secret to save her life, and therefore the clue would soon appear. He read a long debate with the most amiable readiness, and then explained it in his most lucid manner. While Meg tried to look deeply interested, to ask intelligent questions, and keep her thoughts from wandering from the state of the nation to the state of her bonnet. In her secret soul, however, she decided that politics were as bad as mathematics, and the mission of politicians seemed to be calling each other names. But she kept these feminine ideas to herself, and when John paused, shook her head and said with what she thought diplomatic ambiguity. Well, I really don't see what we are coming to. John laughed and watched her for a minute as she poised a pretty little preparation of lace and flowers on her head, and regarded it with a genuine interest which his harangue had failed to waken. She is trying to like politics for my sake, so I'll try and like millinery for hers. That's only fair, thought John the Just, adding aloud. That's very pretty. Is it what you call a breakfast cap? My dear man, it's a bonnet! My very best go to concert and theater bonnet. I beg your pardon. It was so small, I naturally mustook it for one of those flyaway things you sometimes wear. How do you keep it on? These bits of lace are fastened under the chin with the rosebud so, and make illustrated by putting on the bonnet and regarding him with an air of calm satisfaction that was irresistible. It's a love of a bonnet, but I prefer the face inside for it looks young and happy again, and John kissed the smiling face with the great detriment of the rosebud under the chin. I'm glad you like it, for I want you to take me to one of the new concerts some night. I really need some music to put me in tune. Will you please? Of course I will with all my heart, or anywhere else you like. You have been shut up so long, it will do you no end of good, and I shall enjoy it of all things. What put it into your head, little mother? Well, I had a talk with Marmy the other day, and told her how nervous and cross and out of sorts I felt, and she said I need a change and less care. So Hannah is to help me with the children, and I'm to see to things about the house more, and now and then have a little fun just to keep me from getting to be a fidgety broken download woman before my time. It's only an experiment, John, and I want to try it for your sake as much as for mine, because I've neglected you shamefully lately, and I'm going to make home what it used to be if I can. You don't object, I hope. Never mind what John said, or what a very narrow escape the little bonnet had from utter ruin. All that we have any business to know is that John did not appear to object, judging from the changes which gradually took place in the house and its inmates. It was not all paradise by any means, but everyone was better for the division of labor system. The children throw under the paternal rule for accurate steadfast John brought order and obedience into babydom. While Meg recovered her spirit and composed her nerves by plenty of wholesome exercise, a little pleasure, and much confidential conversation with her sensible husband. Home grew home-like again, and John had no wish to leave it unless he took Meg with him. The Scots came to the Brooks now, and everyone found the little house a cheerful place, full of happiness, content, and family love. Even Sally Moffat liked to go there. It is always so quiet and pleasant here, it does me good, Meg. She used to say, looking about her with wistful eyes, as if trying to discover the charm that she might use it in her great-house, full of splendid loneliness. For there were no riotous, sunny-faced babies there, and Ned lived in a world of his own, where there was no place for her. This household happiness did not come all at once, but John and Meg had found the key to it. In each year of married life taught them how to use it, unlocking the treasuries of real home-love and mutual helpfulness, which the poorest may possess, and the richest cannot buy. This is a sort of shelf on which young wives and mothers may consent to be laid, safe from the restless fret in fever of the world, finding loyal lovers and the little sons and daughters who cling to them, undaunted by sorrow, poverty or age, walking side by side through fair and stormy weather with a faithful friend, who is, in the true sense of the good old Saxon word, the house-band. And learning has Meg learned that a woman's happiest kingdom is home, her highest honor, the art of ruling it, not as a queen, but as a wife and mother. CHAPTER 16 Lazy Lawrence Laura went to Nice intending to stay a week and remained a month. He was tired of wandering about alone, and Amy's familiar presence seemed to give a home-like charm to the foreign scenes in which she bore a part. He rather missed the petting he used to receive and enjoyed a taste of it again. For no attentions, however flattering from strangers, were half so pleasant as a sisterly adoration of the girls at home. Amy never would pet him like the others, but she was very glad to see him now and quite clung to him, feeling that he was the representative of the dear family for whom she longed more than she would confess. They naturally took comfort in each other's society and were much together, riding, walking, dancing or dawdling. For at Nice, no one can be very industrious during the gay season. But, while apparently amusing themselves in the most careless fashion, they were half consciously making discoveries and forming opinions about each other. Amy rose daily in the estimation of her friend, but he sank in hers, and each felt the truth before word was spoken. Amy tried to please and succeeded, for she was grateful for the many pleasures he gave her, and repaid him with the little services to which womenly women know how to lend an indescribable charm. Lauren made no effort of any kind, but just let himself drift along as comfortably as possible, trying to forget and feeling that all women owed him a kind word because one had been cold to him. It cost him no effort to be generous, and he would have given Amy all the trinkets and niece if she would have taken them. But at the same time he felt that he could not change the opinion she was forming of him, and he rather dreaded the keen blue eyes that seemed to watch him with such half-sorrowful, half-scornful surprise. All the rest have gone to Monica for the day. I prefer to stay at home and write letters. They are done now, and I'm going to Valrosa to sketch. Will you come?" said Amy, as she joined Lauren one lovely day when he lounged in, as usual about noon. Well, yes, but it isn't rather warm for such a long walk, he answered slowly, for the shaded salon looked inviting after the glare without. I'm going to have a little carriage, and Baptiste can drive, so you'll have nothing to do but hold your umbrella and keep your gloves nice, returned Amy, with a sarcastic glance at the immaculate kids which were a weak point with Lauren. Then I'll go with pleasure, and he put out his hand for her sketchbook, but she tucked under her arm with a sharp, don't trouble yourself, it's no exertion to me, but you don't look equal to it. Lauren lifted his eyebrows and followed at a leisurely pace, as she ran downstairs, but when they got into the carriage she took the reins himself and left little Baptiste nothing to do, but fold his arms and fall asleep on his perch. The two never quarreled. Amy was too well-bred, and just now Lauren was too lazy, so in a minute he peeped under her hat-burn with an inquiring air. She answered him with a smile, and they went on together in the most amicable manner. It was a lovely drive, along winding roads rich in the picturesque scenes that delight beauty-loving eyes. Here in ancient monastery, once the solemn chanting of the monks came down to them. There a bare-legged shepherd in wooden shoes pointed hat and rough jacket over one shoulder sat piping on a stone while his goat skipped among the rocks relayed his feet. Meek, mouth-colored donkeys laid him with panniers of freshly cut grass passed by, with a pretty girl in a cappelline sitting between the green piles, or an old woman spinning with a distaff as she went. Brown, soft-eyed children ran out from the quaint stone hovels to offer nosegays or bunches of oranges still on the bow. Narled olive trees covered the hills with their dusky foliage, fruit-hung golden in the orchard, and great scarlet anemones fringed the roadside, while beyond green slopes and craggy heights the maritime alps rose sharp and white against the blue, Italian sky. Valroza well deserved its name. For in that climate a perpetual summer roses blossomed everywhere. They overhung the archway, thrust themselves between the bars of the great gate with a sweet welcome to passers-by, and lined the avenue winding through lemon trees and feathery palms up to the villa on the hill. Every shadowy nook where seats invited one to stop and rest was a massive bloom. Every cool grotto had its marble nymphs smiling from a veil of flowers, and every fountain reflected crimson white or pale pink roses leaning down to smile at their own beauty. Roses covered the walls of the house, draped the cornices, climbed the pillars, and ran riot over the balustrade of the wide terrace, whence one looked down on the sunny Mediterranean and the white-walled city on its shore. This is a regular honeymoon paradise, isn't it? Did you ever see such roses? asked Amy, pausing on the terrace to enjoy the view and a luxurious whiff of perfume that came wandering by. No, nor felt such thorns, returned Laurie, with his thumb in his mouth, after a vain attempt to capture a solitary scarlet flower that grew just beyond his reach. Try lower down and pick those that have no thorns, said Amy, gathering three of the tiny cream-colored ones that starred the wall behind her. She put them in his buttonhole as a peace offering, and he stood a minute looking down at them with a curious expression. For in the Italian part of his nature there was a touch of superstition, and he was just then in that state of half-sweet, half-bitter melancholy, when imaginative young men find significance in trifles and food for romance everywhere. He had thought of Joe in reaching after the thorny red rose, for vivid flowers became her, and she had often worn ones like that from the greenhouse at home. The pale roses Amy gave him were the sort that the Italians lay in dead hands, never on bridal reads, and for a moment he wondered if the old man was for Joe or for himself. But the next instant as the American common sense got the better of sentimentality, and he laughed a hardier laugh than Amy had heard since he came. It's good advice. You better take it and save your fingers," she said, thinking her speech amused him. Thank you, I will. He answered in jest, and a few moments later he did it in earnest. Lauri, what are you going to your grandfather? She asked presently as she settled herself on a rustic seat, very soon. You have said that a dozen times within the last three weeks. I daresay short answers save trouble. He expects you when you really ought to go. Hospitable creature, I know it. Then why don't you do it? Natural depravity, I suppose. Natural indolence, you mean. It's really dreadful, and Amy looks severe. Not so bad as it seems, for I should only plague him if I went, so I might as well stay and plague you a little longer. You can bear it better. In fact, I think it agrees with you excellently. And Lauri composed himself for a lounge on the broad ledge of the ball astrade. Amy shook her head and opened her sketchbook with an air of resignation, but she had made up her mind to lecture that boy, and in a minute she began again. What are you doing just now? Watching lizards? No, no, I mean what do you intend and wish to do? Smoke a cigarette if you'll allow me. How provoking you are! I don't approve of cigars, and I will only allow an uncondition that you let me put you into my sketch. I need a figure. With all the pleasure in life. How will you have me? Full length or three quarters on my head or my heels? I should respectfully suggest a recumbent posture, then put yourself in also and call it dulce farniente. Stay as you are and go to sleep if you like. I intend to work hard," said Amy in her most energetic tone. What delightful enthusiasm! And he leaned against a tall urn with an air of entire satisfaction. What would Joe say if she saw you now? Asked Amy impatiently, hoping to stir him up by the mention of her still more energetic sister's name. As usual, go away, Teddy. I'm busy. He laughed as he spoke, but the laugh was not natural, and a shade passed over his face for the utterance of a familiar name touched the wound that was not healed yet. Both tone and shadow struck Amy, for she had seen and heard them before, and now she looked up in time to catch a new expression on Laurie's face, a hard bitter look full of pain, dissatisfaction, and regret. It was gone before she could study it and a listless expression back again. She watched him for a moment with artistic pleasure, thinking how like an Italian he looked, as he laid basking in the sun with uncovered head and eyes full of southern dreaminess, for he seemed to have forgotten her and fallen into a reverie. You look like the effigy of a young knight asleep on his tomb, she said, carefully tracing the well-cut profile defined against the dark stone. Wish I was. That's a foolish wish, unless you have spoiled your life. You were so changed, I sometimes think. There Amy stopped, with a half timid, half-wisful look, more significant than her unfinished speech. Laurie saw and understood the affection and anxiety which she hesitated to express, and looking straight into her eyes said, Just as he used to say it to her mother, it's all right, ma'am. That satisfied her and said it rest the doubt that it began to worry her lately. It also touched her, and she showed that it did by the cordial tone in which she said, I'm glad of that. I didn't think you'd been a very bad boy, but I fancied you might have wasted money at that wicked badden-badden, lost your heart to some charming French woman with a husband, or gone into some of the scrapes that young men seem to consider a necessary part of a foreign tour. Don't stay out there in the sun. Come and lie on the grass here and let us be friendly, as Joe used to say when we got in the sofa corner and told secrets. Laurie obediently threw himself down on the turf and began to amuse himself by sticking daisies into the ribbons of Amy's hat that lay there. I'm all ready for the secrets, and he glanced up with the decided expression of interest in his eyes. I have none to tell. You may begin. Haven't went to bless myself with. I thought perhaps you'd have some news from home. You have heard all that's come lately. Don't you hear often I fancy Joe would send you volumes. She's very busy. I'm roving about, so it's impossible to be regular, you know. When do you begin your great work of art, Raffaella? He asked, changing the subject abruptly after another pause, and when she had been wondering if Amy knew his secret and wanted to talk about it. Never. She answered, with a despondent but decided there. Rome took all the vanity out of me, for after seeing the wonders there I felt too insignificant to live, and gave up all my foolish hopes and despair. Why should you with so much energy and talent? That's just why, because talent isn't genius. And no amount of energy can make it so. I want to be great, or nothing. I won't be a common place robber, so I don't intend to try any more. And what are you going to do with yourself now if I may ask? Polish up my other talents, and be an ornament to society if I get the chance. It was a characteristic speech and sounded daring, but audacity becomes young people, and Amy's ambition had a good foundation. Laurie smiled, but he liked the spirit with what she took up a new purpose, when a long-cherished one died, and spent no time lamenting. Good. And here's where Fred Vaughn comes on I fancy. Amy preserved a discreet silence, but there was a conscious look in her downcast face that made Laurie sit up and say gravely. Now I'm going to play brother and ask questions, may I? I don't promise to answer. You are face-well if your tongue won't. You aren't woman of the world enough yet to hide your feelings, my dear. I heard rumors about Fred and you last year, and it's my private opinion that if he had not been called home so suddenly, and detained so long, something would have come of it. Hey. That's not for me to say, was Amy's grim reply, but her lips would smile, and there was a traitor a sparkle of the eye which betrayed that she knew her power and enjoyed the knowledge. You're not engaged, I hope. And Laurie looked very elder brotherly and grave all of a sudden. No. But you will be if he comes back and goes properly down on his knees, won't you? Very likely. Then you were fond of old Fred. I could be if I tried. But you don't intend to try till the proper moment. Bless my soul, what unearthly prudence. He's a good fellow, Amy, but not the man I fancied you'd like. He is rich, a gentleman, and has delightful manners, began Amy, trying to be quite cool and dignified, but feeling a little ashamed of herself in spite of the sincerity of her intentions. I understand. Queens of society can't get on without money, so you mean to make a good match and start in that way. Quite bright and proper as the world goes. But it sounds odd from the lips of one of your mother's girls. True, nevertheless. A short speech, but the decision with which it was uttered contrasted curiously with the young speaker. Laurie felt this instinctively and laid himself down again with a sense of disappointment which you could not explain. His look and silence, as well as a certain inward self-disapproval ruffled Amy, and made her resolve to deliver her lecture without delay. I wish you'd do me the favor to rouse yourself a little, she said sharply. Do it for me, there's a dear girl. I could if I tried, and she looked as if she would like doing it in the most summery style. Try, then, I give you leave, return, Laurie, who enjoyed having someone to tease after his long abstinence from his favorite pastime. You'd be angry in five minutes. I'm never angry with you. It takes two, flints to make a fire. You are as cool and soft as snow. You don't know what I can do. Snow produces a glow and a tingle if applied rightly. Your indifference is half affectation, and a good stirring-up would prove it. Stir away, it won't hurt me, and it may amuse you, as the big man said when his little wife beat him, regard me in the light of a husband or a carpet, and beat till you are tired if that sort of exercise agrees with you. Being decidedly netled herself, and longing to see him shake off the apathy that so altered him, Amy sharpened both tongue and pencil and began. Flo and I have got a new name for you, it's Lazy Lawrence. How do you like it? She thought it would annoy him, but he only folded his arms under his head with an imperturbable, that's not bad, thank you ladies. Do you want to know what I honestly think of you? Pining to be told. Well, I despise you. If she had even said, I hate you, in a petulant or coquettish tone, he would have laughed and rather liked it. But the grave almost sat accent and her voice made him open his eyes and ask quickly. Why, if you please? Because with every chance for being good, useful and happy, you are faulty, lazy and miserable. Strong language, mademoiselle. If you like it, I'll go on. Pray do what's quite interesting. I thought you'd find it so. Selfish people are always like to talk about themselves. Am I selfish? The question slipped out involuntarily and in a tone of surprise, for the one virtue on which he prided himself was generosity. Yes, very selfish. Continued Amy in a calm, cool voice, twice as effective just then as an angry one. I'll show you how, for I've studied you while we were frolicking and I'm not at all satisfied with you. Here you have been abroad nearly six months and done nothing but waste time and money and disappoint your friends. Isn't it fellow to have any pleasure after a four-year grind? You don't look as if you've had much. At any rate, you are none the better for it as far as I can see. I said when my first method you had improved, now I take it all back for I don't think you have so nice as when I left you at home. You have grown abominably lazy. You like gossip and waste time on frivolous things. You were contented to be petted and admired by silly people. Instead of being loved and respected by wise ones with money, talent, position, help and beauty. Oh, you like that, old vanity, but it's the truth so I can't help saying it. With all these blended things to use and enjoy, you can find nothing to do but dawdle. And instead of being the man you ought to be, you are only— there she stopped with a look that had both pain and pity in it. St. Lawrence on a gridiron added Laurie, blindly finishing the sentence. But the luxury began to take effect for there was a wide awake sparkle in his eyes now and a half angry, half injured expression replaced the former indifference. I suppose you take it so. You meant tell us we are angels and say we can make you what we will, but the instant we honestly try to do you good you laugh at us and won't listen. Which proves how much your flattery is worth. Amy spoke bitterly and turned her back on the exasperating martyr at her feet. In a minute a hand came down over the page so that she could not draw. And Laurie's voice said with the droll imitation of a penitent child, I will be good. Oh, I will be good. But Amy did not laugh for she was in earnest and tapping on the outspread hand with her pencil said soberly. Aren't you ashamed of a hand like that? It's as soft and as wide as a woman's and looks as if it never did anything but wear Jovin's best gloves and pit flowers for ladies. You are not a dandy thank heaven so I'm glad to see there are no diamonds or big seal rings on it. Only the little old one Joe gave you so long ago. Dear soul, I wish she was here to help me. So do I. The hand vanished as suddenly as it came and there was energy enough in the echo of her wish to suit even Amy. She glanced down at him with a new thought in her mind but he was lying with his hat half over his face as if her shade and his mustache hid his mouth. She only thought his chest rise and fall with a long breath that might have been a sigh and the hand that wore the ring nestled down into the grass as if to hide something too precious or too tender to be spoken of. All in a minute various hints and trifles assumed shape and significance in Amy's mind and told her what her sister never had confided to her. She remembered that Laurie never spoke voluntarily of Joe. She recalled the shadow on his face just now, the change in his character and the wearing of the little old ring which was no ornament to a handsome hand. Girls are quick to read such signs and feel their eloquence. Amy had fancied that perhaps the love trouble was at the bottom of the alteration and now she was sure of it. Her keen eyes filled and when she spoke again it was in a voice that could be beautifully soft and kind when she chose to make it so. I have no right to talk to you, so Laurie. And if you weren't the sweetest tempered fellow in the world you'd be very angry with me. But we were all so fond and proud of you I couldn't bear to think they should be disappointed in you at home as I have been. Though perhaps they would understand the change better than I do. I think they would. Came from under the hat in a grim tone quite as touching as a broken one. They ought to have told me and not let me go blundery and scolding when I should have been more kind and patient than ever. I never did like that Miss Randall and now I hate her. Said artful Amy wishing to be sure of her facts this time. Hang Miss Randall! And Laurie knocked the hat off his face with a look that left no doubt of the sentiments toward that young lady. I beg pardon I thought. And there she paused diplomatically. No you didn't you knew perfectly well I never cared for anyone but Joe. Laurie said that in his old impetuous tone and turned his face away as he spoke. I did think so but as they never said anything about it and you came away I supposed I was mistaken and Joe wouldn't be kind to you. Why I was sure she loved you dearly. She was kind but not in the right way. And it's lucky for her she didn't love me if I'm the good for nothing fellow you think me. It's her fault though and you may tell her so. The hard bitter look came back again as he said that and it troubled Amy for she did not know what balm to apply. I was wrong. I didn't know. I'm very sorry I was so cross but I can't help wishing you bear it better Teddy dear. Don't that's her name for me. And I put up his hand with a quick gesture to stop the words spoken and Joe's half kind half approachful tone. Wait till you've tried it yourself. He added in a low voice as he pulled up the grass by the handful. I take it manfully and be respected if I couldn't be loved. Said Amy with the decision of one who knew nothing about it. Now I flattered himself that he had born it remarkably well making no moan asking no sympathy and taking his trouble away to live it down alone. Amy's lecture put the matter in a new light and for the first time it did look weak and selfish to lose heart of the first failure and shut himself up in moody indifference. He felt as if suddenly shaken out of a pensive dream and found it impossible to go to sleep again. Presently he sat up and asked slowly Do you think Joe would despise me as you do? Yes if she saw you now she hates lazy people. Why don't you do something splendid and make her love you? I did my best but it was no use. Graduating well you mean? That was no more than you ought to have done for your grandfather's sake. It would have been shameful to fail after spending so much time and money when everyone knew you could do well. I did fail say what you willed for Joe wouldn't love me. Began Laurie leaning his head on his hand in a despondent attitude. No you didn't and you'll say so in the end for it did you good and prove that you could do something if you tried. If you'd only set about another task of some sort you'd soon be your hearty happy self again and forget your trouble. That's impossible. Try it and see. You needn't shrug your shoulders and think much she knows about such things. I don't pretend to be wise but I am observing and I see a great deal more than you'd imagine. I'm interested in other people's experiences and inconsistencies and though I can't explain I remember and use them for my own benefit. Love Joe all your days if you choose but don't let us boil you for it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts because you can't have the one you want. There I won't lecture anymore for I know you'll wake up and be a man in spite of that hard hearted girl. Neither spoke for several minutes. Larry sat turning the little ring on his finger and Amy put the last touches to the hasty sketch she had been working at while she talked. Presently she put it on his knee merely saying, How do you like that? He looked and then he smiled as he could not well help doing for it was capital done. The long lazy figure on the grass with listless face half shut eyes and one hand holding a cigar from which came the little wreath of smoke that encircled the dreamer's hand. How well you draw he said with the genuine surprise and pleasure at her skill adding with a half laugh yes that's me. As you are. This is as you were. Amy laid another sketch beside the one he held. It was not nearly so well done. But there was a life and spirit in it which atoned for many faults and it recalled the past so vividly that a sudden chain swept over the young man's face as he looked. Only a rough sketch of Larry taming a horse. Hat and coat were off in every line of the active figure resolute face and commanding attitude was full of energy and meaning. The handsome brute just subdued stood arching his neck under the tightly drawn rain with one foot impatiently pawing the ground and ears pricked up is of listening for the voice that have mastered him. In the ruffled mane the riders breezy hair and erect attitude there was a suggestion of suddenly arrested motion of strength courage and youthful buoyancy that contrasted sharply with the supine grace of the dulcifarniente sketch. Larry said nothing but as his eye went from one to the other Amy saw him flush up and fold his lips together as if he read and accepted the little lesson she had given him. That satisfied her and without waiting for him to speak she said in her sprightly way. Don't you remember the day you played Rary with Puck and we all looked on? Meg and Beth were frightened but Joe clapped and pranced and I sat on the fence and drew you. I found that sketch in my portfolio the other day touched it up and kept it to show you. Much obliged. You've improved immensely since then and I congratulate you. May I venture to suggest in a honeymoon paradise that five o'clock is a dinner hour at your hotel? Larry Rose as he spoke returned the picture with a smile and a bow and looked at his watch as if to remind her that even more a lecture should have an end. He tried to resume his former easy and different air but it was an affectation now for the rousing had been more facious than he would confess. Amy felt the shade of coldness in his manner and said to herself now I've offended him. Well if it does him good I'm glad. If it makes him hate me I'm sorry but it's true when I can't take back a word of it. They laughed and chatted all the way home and little baptized up behind thought that Mosheur and Mademoiselle were in charming spirits. But both felt ill at ease. The friendly frankness was disturbed. The sunshine had a shadow over it and despite their apparent gaily there was a secret discontent in the heart of each. Shall we see you this evening more flair as Amy as they parted at her aunt's door? Unfortunately I have an engagement au revoir Mademoiselle and Larry bent as if to kiss her hand in the foreign fashion which became him better than many men. Something in his face made Amy say quickly and warmly. Know be yourself with me Larry and part in the good old way. I'd rather have a hearty English handshake than all the sentimental salutations on France. Goodbye dear. And with these words uttered in the tone she liked Laurie left her after a handshake almost painful in his heartiness. Next morning instead of the usual call Amy received a note which made her smile at the beginning and sigh at the end. My dear mentor please make Maya deuce to your aunt and exult within yourself for Lazy Lawrence has gone to his grandpa like the best of boys a pleasant winter to you and may the gods grant you a blissful honeymoon at Val Rosa. I think Fred would be benefited by a rouser. Tell him so with my congratulations. Yours gratefully telemaucus. Good boy I'm glad he's gone. Said Amy with an approving smile. The next minute her face fell as she glanced about the empty room adding with an involuntary sigh. Yes I am glad but how I shall miss him. End of Chapter 16 Recording by Lisa Ann Evanston, Wyoming Chapter 17 of Good Wives This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ariel Lipschaw Good Wives by Louisa Mayalkott Chapter 17 The Valley of the Shadow When the first bitterness was over the family accepted the inevitable and tried to bear it cheerfully helping one another by the increased affection which comes to bind households tenderly together in times of trouble they put away their grief and each did his or her part toward making that last year a happy one. The pleasantest room in the house was set apart for Beth and in it was gathered everything that she most loved flowers, pictures, her piano, the little work table and the beloved pussies. Father's best books found their way there Mother's easy chair Joe's desk Amy's finest sketches and every day Meg brought her babies on a loving pilgrimage to make sunshine for Auntie Beth. John quietly set apart a little sum that he might enjoy the pleasure of keeping the invalid supplied with the fruit she loved and longed for. Old Hannah never wearied of concocting dainty dishes to tempt a capricious appetite dropping tears as she worked and from across the sea came little gifts and cheerful letters seeming to bring breaths of warmth and fragrance from lands that know no winter. Here cherished like a household saint in its shrine sat Beth tranquil and busy as ever for nothing could change the sweet unselfish nature and even while preparing to leave life she tried to make it happier for those who should remain behind. The feeble fingers were never idle and one of her pleasures was to make little things for the school children daily passing to and fro to drop a pair of mittens from her window for a pair of purple hands a needle book for some small mother of many dolls pen wipers for young pen men toiling through forests of pothooks scrapbooks for picture-loving eyes and all manner of pleasant devices till the reluctant climbers of the ladder of learning found their way strewn with flowers as it were and came to regard the gentle giver as a sort of fairy godmother who sat above there and showered down gifts miraculously suited to their tastes and needs. If Beth had wanted any reward she found it in the bright little faces always turned up to her window with nods and smiles and the droll little letters which came to her full of blots and gratitude. The first few months were very happy ones and Beth often used to look round and say how beautiful this is as they all sat together in her sunny room the babies kicking and crowing on the floor mother and sisters working near and father reading in his pleasant voice from the wise old books which seemed rich in good and comfortable words as applicable now as when written centuries ago a little chapel where a paternal priest taught his flock the hard lessons all must learn trying to show them that hope can comfort love and faith make resignation possible simple sermons that went straight to the souls of those who listened for the father's heart was in the minister's religion and the frequent falter in the voice gave a double eloquence to the words he spoke or read It was well for all that this peaceful time was given them as preparation for the sad hours to come for by and by Beth said the needle was so heavy and put it down forever talking weiried her faces troubled her pain claimed her for its own and her tranquil spirit was sorrowfully perturbed by the ills that vexed her feeble flesh ah me such heavy days such long long nights such aching hearts and imploring prayers when those who loved her best were forced to see the thin hands stretched out to them beseechingly to hear the bitter cry help me help me and to feel that there was no help a sad eclipse of the serene soul a sharp struggle of the young life with death but both were mercifully brief and then the natural rebellion over the old peace returned more beautiful than ever with the rack of her frail body Beth's soul grew strong and though she said little those about her felt that she was ready saw that the first pilgrim called was likewise the fittest and waited with her on the shore trying to see the shining ones coming to receive her when she crossed the river Jo never left her for an hour since Beth had said I feel stronger when you are here she slept on a couch in the room waking often to renew the fire to feed lift or wait upon the patient creature who seldom asked for anything and tried not to be a trouble all day she haunted the room jealous of any other nurse and prouder of being chosen then of any honor her life ever brought her precious and helpful hours to Jo for now her heart received the teaching that it needed lessons and patience were so sweetly taught her that she could not fail to learn them charity for all the lovely spirit that can forgive and truly forget unkindness the loyalty to duty that makes the hardest easy and the sincere faith that fears nothing but trusts undoubtedly often when she woke Jo found Beth reading in her well-worn little book heard her singing softly to beguile the sleepless night or saw her lean her face upon her hands while slow tears dropped through the transparent fingers and Jo would lie watching her with thoughts too deep for tears feeling that Beth in her simple unselfish way was trying to wean herself from the dear old life and fit herself for the life to come by sacred words of comfort quiet prayers and the music she loved so well seeing this did more for Jo than the wisest sermons the saintliest hymns the most fervent prayers that any voice could utter for with eyes made clear by many tears and a heart softened by the tenderest sorrow she recognized the beauty of her sister's life uneventful unambitious yet full of the genuine virtues which smell sweet and blossom in the dust the self-forgetfulness that makes the humblest on earth remembered soonest in heaven the true success which is possible to all one night when Beth looked among the books upon her table to find something to make her forget the mortal weariness that was almost as hard to bear as pain as she turned the leaves of her old favorite Pilgrim's Progress she found a little paper scribbled over in Jo's hand the name caught her eye and the blurred look of the lines made her sure that tears had fallen on it poor Jo she's fast asleep so I won't wake her to ask leave she shows me all her things and I don't think she'll mind if I look at this thought Beth with a glance at her sister who lay on the rug with the tongs beside her ready to wake up the minute the log fell apart my Beth sitting patient in the shadow till the blessed light shall come a serene and saintly presence sanctifies our troubled home earthly joys and hopes and sorrows break like ripples on the strand of the deep and solemn river where her willing feet now stand oh my sister passing from me out of human care and strife leave me as a gift those virtues which have beautified your life dear bequeath me that great patience which has power to sustain a cheerful uncomplaining spirit in its prison house of pain give me for I need it sorely of that courage wise and sweet which has made the path of duty green beneath your willing feet give me that unselfish nature that with charity divine can pardon wrong for love's dear sake meek heart forgive me mine thus our parting daily lucid something of its bitter pain and while learning this hard lesson my great loss becomes my gain for the touch of grief will render my wild nature more serene give to life new aspirations a new trust in the unseen henceforth safe across the river I shall see forevermore a beloved household spirit waiting for me on the shore hope and faith born of my sorrow guardian angels shall become and the sister gone before me by their hands shall lead me home blurred and blotted faulty and feeble as the lines were they brought a look of inexpressible comfort to Beth's face for her one regret had been that she had done so little and this seemed to assure her that her life had not been useless that her death would not bring the despair she feared as she sat with the paper folded between her hands the charred log fell asunder Joe started up revived the blaze and crept to the bedside hoping Beth slept not asleep but so happy dear see I found this and read it I knew you wouldn't care have I been all that to you Joe she asked with a wistful humble earnestness oh Beth so much so much and Joe's head went down upon the pillow beside her sisters then I don't feel as if I'd wasted my life I'm not so good as you make me but I have tried to do right and now when it's too late to begin even to do better it's such a comfort to know that someone loves me so much and feels as if I'd helped them more than anyone in the world Beth I used to think I couldn't let you go but I'm learning to feel that I don't lose you that you'll be more to me than ever and death can't part us though it seems to I know it cannot and I don't fear it any longer for I'm sure I shall be your Beth still to love and help you more than ever you must take my place Joe and be everything to father and mother when I'm gone they will turn to you don't fail them and if it's hard to work alone remember that I don't forget you and that you'll be happier in doing that than writing splendid books or seeing all the world for love is the only thing that we can carry with us when we go and it makes the end so easy I'll try Beth and then in there Joe renounced her old ambition pledged herself to a new and better one acknowledging the poverty of other desires and feeling the blessed solace of a belief in the immortality of love so the spring days came and went the sky grew clearer the earth greener the flowers were up fairly early and the birds came back in time to say goodbye to Beth who like a tired but trustful child clung to the hands that had led her all her life as father and mother guided her tenderly through the valley of the shadow and gave her up to God seldom except in books do the dying utter memorable words see visions or depart with beatified countenances and those who have sped many parting souls know that to most the end comes as naturally and simply as sleep as Beth had hoped the tide went out easily and in the dark hour before dawn on the bosom where she had drawn her first breath she quietly drew her last with no farewell but one loving look one little sigh with tears and prayers and tender hands mother and sisters made her ready for the long sleep that pain would never mar again seeing with grateful eyes the beautiful serenity that soon replaced the pathetic patients that had wrung their hearts so long and feeling with reverent joy that to their darling death was a benignant angel not a phantom full of dread when morning came for the first time in many months the fire was out joe's place was empty and the room was very still but a bird sang blithely and a budding bow close by the snow drops blossomed freshly at the window and the spring sunshine streamed in like a benediction over the placid face upon the pillow a face so full of painless peace that those who loved it best smiled through their tears and thanked God that Beth was well at last End of Chapter 17 Recording by Aria Lipshaw in New York City Good Wives by Louisa May Alcott Chapter 18 Learning to Forget Amy's lecture did lorry good though of course he did not own it till long afterward men seldom do for when women are the advisors the lords of creation don't take the advice till they have persuaded themselves that it is just what they intended to do then they act upon it and if it succeeds they give the weaker vessel half the credit of it if it fails they generously give her the whole lorry went back to his grandfather and was so dutifully devoted for several weeks that the old gentleman declared the climate of nice had improved him wonderfully and he had better tried again there was nothing the young gentleman would have liked better but elephants could not have dragged him back after the scolding he had received pride forbid and whenever the longing grew very strong he fortified his resolution by repeating the words that had made the deepest impression I despise you go and do something splendid that will make her love you lorry turned the matter over in his mind so often that he soon brought himself to confess that he had been selfish and lazy but then when a man has a great sorrow he should be indulged in all sorts of vagaries till he has lived it down he felt that his blighted affections were quite dead now and though he should never cease to be a faithful mourner there was no occasion to wear his reeds ostentatiously Joe wouldn't love him but he might make her respect and admire him by doing something which should prove their girls know had not spoiled his life he had always meant to do something and Amy's advice was quite unnecessary he had only been waiting till the aforesaid blighted affections were decently interred that being done he felt that he was ready to hide his stricken heart and still toil on as Goethe when he had a joy or a grief put it into a song so lorry resolved to embalm his love sorrow in music and to compose a requiem which should harrow up Joe's soul and melt the heart of every hearer therefore the next time the old gentleman found him getting restless and moody and ordered him off he went to Vienna where he had musical friends and failed to work with the firm determination to distinguish himself but whether the sorrow was too vast to be embodied in music or music too ethereal to uplift a mortal woe he soon discovered that the requiem was beyond him just at present it was evident that his mind was not in working order yet and his ideas needed clarifying for often in the middle of a plaintative strain he would find himself humming a dancing tune that vividly recalled the Christmas ball at Nice especially the stout Frenchman and put an effectual stop to tragic composition for the time being then he tried an opera for nothing seemed impossible in the beginning but here again unforeseen difficulties beset him he wanted Joe for his heroine and called upon his memory to supply him with tender recollections and romantic visions of his love but memory turned traitor and as if possessed by the perverse spirit of the girl would only recall Joe's oddities, faults, and freaks would only show her in the most unsentimental aspects beating mats with her head tied up in a bandana barricading herself with a sofa pillow or throwing cold water over his passion at Ala Comich and an irresistible laugh spoiled the pensive picture he was endeavouring to paint Joe wouldn't be put into the opera at any price and he had to give her up with a bless that girl what a torment she is and a clutch at his hair as became a distracted composer when he looked about him for another and a less intractable damsel to immortalize in melody memory produced one with the most obliging readiness this phantom wore many faces but it always had golden hair was enveloped in a diaphanous cloud and floated airily before his mind's eye in a pleasing chaos of roses, peacocks, white ponies, and blue ribbons he did not give the complacent Wraith any name but he took her for his heroine and grew quite fond of her as well he might for he gifted her with every gift and grace under the sun and escorted her unscathed through trials which would have annihilated any mortal woman thanks to this inspiration he got on swimmingly for a time but gradually the work lost its charm and he forgot to compose while he sat musing a pen in hand or roamed about the gay city to get some new ideas and refresh his mind which seemed to be in a somewhat unsettled state that winter he did not do much but he thought a great deal and was conscious of a change of some sort going on in spite of himself it's genius simmering perhaps I'll let it simmer and see what comes of it he said with a secret suspicion all the while that it wasn't genius but something far more common whatever it was it simmered to some purpose for he grew more and more discontented with his dulcetary life began to long for some real and earnest work to go at body and soul and finally came to the wise conclusion that everyone who loved music was not a composer returning from one of Mozart's grand operas splendidly performed at the royal theater he looked over his own played a few of the best parts sat staring at the busts of Mendelssohn, Beethoven, and Bach who stared benignly back again then suddenly he tore up his music sheets one by one and as the last fluttered out of his hand he said soberly to himself she is right talent isn't genius and you can't make it so that music has taken the vanity out of me as Rome took it out of her and I won't be a humbug any longer now what shall I do that seemed a hard question to answer and Laurie began to wish he had to work for his daily bread now if ever occurred an eligible opportunity for going to the devil as he once forcibly expressed it for he had plenty of money and nothing to do and Satan is proverbially fond of providing employment for full and idle hands the poor fellow had temptations enough from without and from within but he withstood them pretty well for much as he valued liberty he valued good faith and confidence more so his promise to his grandfather and his desire to be able to look honestly into the eyes of the woman who loved him and say all's well kept him safe and steady very likely some mrs. Grundy will observe I don't believe it boys will be boys young men must sew their wild oats and women must not expect miracles I dare say you don't mrs. Grundy but it's true nevertheless women work a good many miracles and I have a persuasion that they may perform even that of raising the standard of manhood by refusing to echo such sayings let the boys be boys the longer the better and let the young men sew their wild oats if they must but mothers sisters and friends may help to make the crop a small one and keep many tears from spoiling the harvest by believing and showing that they believe in the possibility of loyalty to the virtues which make men manliest in good women's eyes if it is a feminine delusion leave us to enjoy it while we may for without it half the beauty and the romance of life is lost and sorrowful forebodings would embitter all our hopes of the brave tender hearted little lads who still love their mothers better than themselves and are not ashamed to own it Laurie thought that the task of forgetting his love for Joe would absorb all his powers for years but to his great surprise he discovered it grew easier every day he refused to believe it at first got angry with himself and couldn't understand it but these hearts of ours are curious and contrary things and time and nature work their will in spite of us Laurie's heart wouldn't ache the wound persisted in healing with a rapidity that astonished him and instead of trying to forget he found himself trying to remember he had not foreseen this turn of affairs and was not prepared for it he was disgusted with himself surprised at his own fickleness and full of a queer mixture of disappointment and relief that he could recover from such a tremendous blow so soon he carefully stirred up the embers of his lost love but they refused to burst into a blaze there was only a comfortable glow that warmed and did him good without putting him into a fever and he was reluctantly obliged to confess that the boyish passion was slowly subsiding into a more tranquil sentiment very tender a little sad and resentful still but that was sure to pass away in time leaving a brotherly affection which would last unbroken to the end as the word brotherly passed through his mind in one of his reveries he smiled and glanced up at the picture of Mozart that was before him well he was a great man and when he couldn't have one sister he took the other and was happy Laurie did not utter the words but he thought them when the next instant kissed the little old ring saying to himself no I won't I haven't forgotten I never can I'll try again and if that fails why then leaving his sentence unfinished he seized pen and paper and wrote to Joe telling her that he could not settle to anything while there was the least hope of her changing her mind couldn't she wouldn't she and let him come home and be happy while waiting for an answer he did nothing but he did it energetically for he was in a fever of impatience it came at last and settled his mind effectually on one point for Joe decidedly couldn't and wouldn't she was wrapped up in Beth and never wished to hear the word love again then she begged him to be happy with somebody else but always keep a little corner of his guard for his loving sister Joe in a post script she desired him not to tell Amy that Beth was worse she was coming home in spring and there was no need of saddening the remainder of her stay that would be time enough please God but Laurie must write to her often and not let her feel lonely home sick or anxious so I will at once poor little girl it will be a sad going home for her I'm afraid and Laurie opened his desk as if writing to Amy had been the proper conclusion of the sentence left unfinished some weeks before but he did not write the letter that day for as he rummaged out his best paper he came across something which changed his purpose tumbling about in one part of the desk among bills passports and business documents of various kinds were several of Joe's letters and another compartment with three notes from Amy carefully tied up with one of her blue ribbons and sweetly suggestive of the little dead roses put away inside with a half repentant half amused expression Laurie gathered up all of Joe's letters smoothed folded and put them neatly into a small tour of the desk stood a minute turning the ring thoughtfully on his finger then slowly drew it off laid it with the letters locked the drawer and went out to hear high mass at St. Stephens feeling as if there had been a funeral and they're not overwhelmed with the fiction this seemed a more proper way to spend the rest of the day than in writing letters to charming young ladies the letter went very soon however and was promptly answered for Amy was homesick and confessed it in the most delightfully confiding manner the correspondence flourished famously and letters flew to and fro with unfailing regularity all through the early spring Laurie sold his busts made a lumance of his opera and went back to Paris hoping somebody would arrive before long he wanted desperately to go to nice but would not until he was asked and Amy would not ask him for just then she was having little experiences of her own which made her rather wish to avoid the quizzical eyes of out boy Fred Vaughn had returned and put the question to which she had once decided to answer yes thank you but now she said no thank you kindly but steadily for when the time came her courage failed her and she found that something more than money and position was needed to satisfy the new longing that filled her heart so full of tender hopes and fears the words Fred is a good fellow but not at all the man I fancied he would ever like and Laurie's face when he uttered them kept returning to her as pertenaciously as her own did when she said in look if not in words I shall marry for money it troubled her to remember that now she wished she could take it back it sounded so unwomanly she didn't want Laurie to think her heartless worldly creature she didn't care to be a queen of society now half so much as she did to be a lovable woman she was so glad he didn't hate her for the dreadful things she said but took them so beautifully and was kinder than ever his letters were such a comfort for the home letters were very irregular and not have so satisfactory as his when they did come it was not only a pleasure but a duty to answer them for the poor fellow was forlorn and needed petting since Joe persisted in being stony hearted she ought to have made an effort and tried to love him it couldn't be very hard many people would be proud and glad to have such a dear boy care for them but Joe never would act like other girls so there was nothing to do but be very kind and treat him like a brother if all brothers were treated as well as Laurie was at this period they would be a much happier race of beings than they are Amy never lectured now she asked his opinion on all subjects she was interested in everything he did made charming little presents for him and sent him two letters a week full of lively gossip sisterly confidences and captivating sketches of the lovely scenes about her as few brothers are complimented by having their letters carried about in their sister's pockets read and reread diligently cried over one short kissed when long and treasured carefully we will not hint that Amy did any of these fond and foolish things but she certainly did grow a little pale and pensive that spring lost much of her relish for society and went out sketching alone a great deal she never had much to show when she came home but was studying nature I daresay while she sat for hours with her hands folded on the terrace of Valrosa or absently sketched any fancy that occurred to her a stalwart night carved on a tomb a young man asleep in the grass with his hat over his eyes or a curly haired girl in gorgeous array promenading down a ballroom on the arm of a tall gentleman both faces being left to blur according to the last fashion in art which was safe but not altogether satisfactory her aunt thought that she regretted her answer to Fred and finding denials useless and explanations impossible Amy left her to think what she liked taking care that Lori should know that Fred had gone to Egypt that was all but he understood it as he said to himself with a venerable air I was sure she would think better of it poor old fellow I've been through it all and I can sympathize with that he heaved a great sigh and then as if he had discharged his duty to the past put his feet up on the sofa and enjoyed Amy's letter luxuriously while these changes were going on abroad trouble had come at home but the letter telling that Beth was failing never reached Amy and when the next found her to Vivaix for the heat had driven them from Nice in May and they had traveled slowly to Switzerland by way of Genoa and the Italian lakes she bore it very well and quietly submitted to the family decree that she should not shorten her visit for since it was too late to say goodbye to Beth she had better stay and let absence soften her sorrow but her heart was very heavy she longed to be at home and every day looked wistfully across the lake waiting for Lori to come and comfort her he did come very soon for the same mail brought letters to them both but he was in Germany and it took some days to reach him the moment he read it he packed his knapsack they had due to his fellow pedestrians and was off to keep his promise with a full heart of joy and sorrow hope and suspense he knew Vivaix well and as soon as the boat touched the rookie he hurried along the shore to La Tour where the carols were living on pension the garçon was in despair that the whole family had gone to take a promenade on the lake but no the blonde madame Wiesel might be in the chateau garden if Monceau would give himself the pain of sitting down a flash of time should present her but Monceau could not wait even a flash of time and in the middle of the speech departed to find madame Wiesel himself a pleasant old garden on the borders of the lovely lake with chestnuts rustling overhead ivy climbing everywhere and the black shadow of the tower falling far across the sunny water at one corner of the wide low wall was a seat and here Amy often came to read or work or console herself with the beauty all about her she was sitting here that day leaning her head on her hand with a homesick heart and heavy eyes thinking of Beth and wondering why Laurie did not come she did not hear him cross the courtyard beyond nor see him pause in the archway that led from the subterranean path into the garden he stood a minute looking at her with new eyes seeing what no one had ever seen before the tender side of Amy's character everything about her mutely suggested love and sorrow the blotted letters in her lap the black ribbon that tied up her hair the womanly pain and patience in her face even the little ebony cross at her throat seemed pathetic to Laurie for he had given it to her and she word as her only ornament if he had any doubts about the reception she would give him they were set at rest the minute she looked up and saw him for dropping everything she ran to him exclaiming in a tone of unmistakable love and longing oh Laurie Laurie I knew you'd come to me I think everything was said and settled then for as they stood together quite silent for a moment with the dark head bent down protecting Lee over the light one Amy felt that no one could comfort and sustain her so well as Laurie and Laurie decided that Amy was the only woman in the world who could fill Joe's place and make him happy he did not tell her so but she was not disappointed for both felt the truth were satisfied and gladly left the rest to silence in a minute Amy went back to her place and while she dried her tears Laurie gathered up the scattered papers finding in the sight of sundry well worn letters and suggestive sketches good omens for the future as he sat down beside her Amy felt shy again and turned rosy red at the recollection of her impulsive greeting I couldn't help it I felt so lonely and sad and just so very glad to see you it was such a surprise to look up and find you just as I was beginning to fear you wouldn't come she said trying in vain to speak quite naturally I came the minute I heard I wish I could say something to comfort you for the loss of dear little Beth but I can only feel and he could not get any further for she too turned bashful all of a sudden and did not quite know what to say he longed to lay Amy's head down on his shoulder and tell her to have a good cry but he did not dare so he took her hand instead and gave it a sympathetic squeeze that was better than words you didn't say anything this comforts me she said softly Beth is well and happy and I mustn't wish her back but I dread the going home much as I long to see them all we won't talk about it now for it makes me cry and I want to enjoy you while you stay you needn't go right back need you not if you want me dear I do so much and and flow are very kind but you seem like one of the family and it would be so comfortable to have you for a little while Amy spoke and looked so like a homesick child whose heart was full that Laurie forgot his bashfulness all at once and gave her just what she wanted the petting she was used to and the cheerful conversation she needed poor little soul you look as if you'd grieved yourself half sick I'm going to take care of you so don't cry anymore but come and walk about with me the wind is too chilly for you to sit still he said in the half caressing half commanding way that Amy liked as he tied on her hat drew her arm through his and began to pace up and down the sunny walk under the new-leaved chestnuts he felt more at ease upon his legs and Amy found it pleasant to have a strong arm to lean upon a familiar face to smile at her and a kind voice to talk delightfully for her alone the quaint old garden had sheltered many pairs of lovers and seemed expressly made for them so sunny and secluded was it with nothing but the tower to overlook them and the wide lake to carry away the echo of their words as it rippled by below for an hour this new pair walked and talked or rested on the wall and joined the sweet influences which gave such a charm to time and place and when an unromantic dinner bell warned them away Amy felt as if she loved her burden of loneliness and sorrow behind her in the Chateau Garden the moment Mrs. Coroll saw the girl's altered face she was illuminated with a new idea and exclaimed to herself now I understand it all the child has been pining for young Lawrence bless my heart I never thought of such a thing with praise worthy discretion the good lady said nothing and portrayed no sign of enlightenment but cordially urged Lori to stay and begged Amy to enjoy his society for would do her more good than so much solitude Amy was a model of facility and as her aunt was a good deal occupied with flow she was left to entertain her friend ended it with more than her usual success at nice Lori had lounged and Amy had scolded at they they Lori was never idle but always walking riding boating or studying in the most energetic manner while Amy admired everything he did and followed his example as far and as fast as she could he said the change was owing to the climate and she did not contradict him being glad of a like excuse for her own recovered health and spirits the invigorating air did them both good and much exercise worked wholesome changes in minds as well as bodies they seem to get clearer views of life and duty up there among the everlasting hills the fresh winds blew away desponding doubts the loose of fancies and moody mists the warm spring sunshine brought out all sorts of aspiring ideas tender hopes and happy thoughts the lake seemed to wash away the troubles of the past and the grand old mountains to look benignly down upon them saying little children love one another in spite of the new sorrow it was a very happy time so happy that Lori could not bear to disturb it by a word it took him a little while to recover from his surprise at the cure of his first and as he had firmly believed his last and only love he consult himself for the seeming disloyalty by the thought that Joe's sister was almost the same as Joe's self and the conviction that it would have been possible to love any other woman but Amy so soon and so well his first ruin had been of the tempestuous order and he looked back upon it as if through a long vista of years with a feeling of compassion blended with regret he was not ashamed of it but put it away as one of the bittersweet experiences of his life for which he could be grateful when the pain was over his second ruin he resolved should be as calm and simple as possible there was no need of having a scene hardly any need of telling Amy that he loved her she knew it without words and had given him his answer long ago it all came about so naturally that no one could complain and he knew that everybody would be pleased even Joe but when our first little passion has been crushed we are up to be wary and stow in making a second trial so Lori let the days pass enjoying every hour and leaving to chance the utterance of the word that would put an end to the first and sweetest part of his new romance he had rather imagined that the denouement would take place in the chateau garden by moonlight and in the most graceful and decorous manner but it turned out exactly the reverse for the matter was settled on the lake at noon day in a few blunt words they had been floating about all morning from gloomy st. gingolf to sunny Montreux with the alps of Savoy on one side Mont Saint Bernard and the Don du Myri on the other pretty ve-veh in the valley and Lausanne upon the hill beyond a cloudless blue sky overhead and the bluer lake below dotted with picturesque boats that looked like white-winged gulls they had been talking of Montervar as they glided past Ceylon and of Rousseau as they looked up at Clarence where he wrote his ailees neither had read it but they knew it was a love story and each privately wondered if it was half as interesting as their own Amy had been dabbling her hand in the water during the little pause that fell between them and when she looked up Lori was leaning on his oars with an expression in his eyes that made her say hastily merely for the sake of saying something you must be tired rest a little and let me row it will do me good for since you came I have been altogether lazy and luxurious I'm not tired but you may take an ore if you like there's room enough though I have to sit nearly in the middle else the boat won't trim returned to Lori as if he rather liked the arrangement feeling that she had not mended matters Amy took the offered third of a seat shook her hair over her face and accepted an ore she wrote as well as she did many other things and though she used both hands and Lori but one the oars kept time and the boat went smoothly through the water how well we pulled together don't we said Amy who objected to silence just then so well that I wish we might always pull in the same boat will you Amy very tenderly yes Lori very low then they both stopped rowing and unconsciously added a pretty little tableau of human love and happiness to the dissolving views reflected in the lake end of chapter 18 chapter 19 of Good Wives this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Shirley Ellen Good Wives by Louisa May Alcott chapter 19 it was easy to promise self-abnegation when self was wrapped up in another and heart and soul were purified by a sweet example but when the helpful voice was silent the daily lesson over the beloved presence gone and nothing remained but loneliness and grief then Joe found her promise very hard to keep how could she comfort father and mother when her own heart ached with a ceaseless longing for her sister and how could she make the house cheerful when all its light and warmth and beauty seemed to have deserted it when Beth left the old home for the new and where in all the world could she find some useful happy work to do that would take the place of the loving service which had been its own reward she tried in a blind hopeless way to do her duty secretly rebelling against it all the while for it seemed unjust that her few joys should be lessened her burdens made heavier and life get harder and harder as she toiled along some people seemed to get all sunshine and some all shadow it was not fair for she tried more than Amy to be good but never got any reward only disappointment trouble and hard work poor Joe these were dark days to her for something like despair came over her when she thought of spending all her life in that quiet house devoted to humdrum cares a few small pleasures and the duty that never seemed to grow any easier I can't do it I wasn't meant for life like this and I know I shall break away and do something desperate if someone doesn't come and help me she said to herself when her first efforts failed and she fell into the moody miserable state of mind which often comes when strong wills have to yield to the inevitable but someone did come and help her though Joe did not recognize her good angels at once because they wore familiar shapes and use the simple spells best fitted to poor humanity often she started up at night thinking Beth had called her and when the sight of the little empty bed made her cry with the bitter cry of unsubmissive sorrow oh Beth come back come back she did not stretch out her yearning arms in vain for as quick to hear her sobbing as she had been to hear her sister's faintest whisper her mother came to comfort her not with words only but the patient tenderness that soothed by a touch tears that were mute reminders of a greater grief than Joe's and broken whispers more eloquent than prayers because hopeful resignation went hand in hand with natural sorrow sacred moments when heart talked to heart in the silence of the night turning affliction into a blessing which chastened grief and strengthening love feeling this Joe's burden seemed easier to bear duty grew sweeter and life looked more and durable seen from the safe shelter of her mother's arms when aching heart was a little comforted troubled mind likewise found help for one day she went to the study and leaning over the good gray head lifted to welcome her with a tranquil smile she said very humbly father talk to me as you did to Beth I need it more than she did for I am all wrong my dear nothing could comfort me like this he answered with the falter in his voice and both arms round her as if he too needed help and did not fear to ask for it then sitting in best little chair close beside him Joe told her troubles the resentful sorrow for her loss the fruitless efforts that discouraged her the want of faith that made her life look so dark and all the sad bewilderment which we call despair she gave him entire confidence he gave her the help she needed and both found consolation in the act for the time had come when they could talk together not only as father and daughter but as man and woman able and glad to serve each other with mutual sympathy as well as mutual love happy thoughtful times there in the old study which Joe called the church of one member and from which she came with fresh courage recovered cheerfulness and a more submissive spirit for the parents who had taught one child to meet death without fear we're trying now to teach another to accept life without despondency or distrust and to use its beautiful opportunities with gratitude and power other helps head Joe humble wholesome duties and delights that would not be denied their part in serving her and which she slowly learned to see in value you brooms and dishcloths never could be as distasteful as they had once been for Beth had presided over both and something of her housewifely spirit seemed to linger around the little mop in the old brush never thrown away as she used them Joe found herself humming the songs Beth used to hum imitating best orderly ways and giving the little touches here and there that kept everything fresh and cozy which was the first step towards making home happy though she did not know it till Hannah said with an approving squeeze of the hand you thoughtful creature you're determined we shan't miss that dear lamb if you can help it we don't say much but we see it and the Lord of bless you for it see if he don't as they sat sewing together Joe discovered how much improved her sister Meg was how well she could talk how much she knew about good womanly impulses thoughts and feelings how happy she was in husband and children and how much they were all doing for each other marriage is an excellent thing after all I wonder if I should blossom out half as well as you have if I tried it said Joe she constructed a kite for Demi in the topsy-turvy nursery it's just what you need to bring out the tender womanly half of your nature Joe you were like the chestnut burr prickly outside but silky soft within and a sweet kernel if one can only get at it love will make you show your heart one day and then the rough burr will fall off frost chestnuts open chestnut burrs ma'am and it takes a good shake to bring them down boys go nutting and I don't care to be begged by them return Joe pasting away at the kite which no wind that blows would ever carry up for Daisy had tied herself on as a bob Meg laughed for she was glad to see the glimmer of Joe's old spirit but she felt at her duty to enforce her opinion by every argument in her power and the sisterly chats were not wasted especially as two of Meg's most effective arguments with the babies whom Joe loved tenderly grief is the best opener of some hearts and Joe's was nearly ready for the bag a little more sunshine to ripen the nut then not a boys impatient shake but a man's hand reached up to pick it gently from the burr and find the kernel sound and sweet if she suspected this she would have shut up tight and been more prickly than ever fortunately she wasn't thinking about herself so when the time came down she dropped now she had been the heroine of a moral story book she ought at this period of her life to have become quite saintly renounced the world and gone about doing good in a mortified bonnet with tracks in her pocket but you see Joe wasn't a heroine she was only a struggling human girl like hundreds of others and she just acted out her nature being sad cross listless or energetic as the mood suggested it's highly virtuous to say we'll be good but we can't do it all at once and it takes a long pull a strong pull and a pull altogether before some of us even get our feet set in the right way Joe had got so far she was learning to do her duty and to feel unhappy if she did not but to do it cheerfully ah that was another thing she had often said she wanted to do something splendid no matter how hard and now she had her wish for what could be more beautiful than to devote her life to father and mother trying to make home as happy to them as they had to her and if difficulties were necessary to increase the splendor of the effort what could be harder for a restless ambitious girl than to give up her own hopes plans and desires and cheerfully live for others providence had taken her at her word here was the task not what she had expected but better because self had no part in it now could she do it she decided that she would try and in her first attempt she found the helps I have suggested still another was given her and she took it not as a reward but as a comfort as Christian took the refreshment afforded by the little arbor where he rested as he climbed the hill called difficulty why don't you write that I was used to make you happy said mother once when the desponding fit overshadowed Joe I have no heart to write and if I had nobody cares for my things we do write something for us and never mind the rest of the world try it dear I'm sure it would do you good and please us very much don't believe I can but Joe got out her desk and began to overhaul her half finished manuscripts an hour afterward her mother peeped in and there she was scratching away with her black pinafore on and an absorbed expression which caused Mrs. March to smile and slip away well pleased with the success of her suggestion Joe never knew how it happened but something got into that story that went straight to the hearts of those who read it for when her family had laughed and cried over it her father sent it much against her will to one of the popular magazines and to her utter surprise it was not only paid for but others requested letters from several persons whose praise was on her followed the appearance of the little story newspapers copied it and strangers as well as friends admired it for a small thing it was a great success and Joe was more astonished than when her novel was commended and condemned all at once I don't understand it what can there be in a simple little story like that to make people praise it so she said quite bewildered there's truth in it Joe that's the secret humor and pathos make it alive and you have found your style at last you wrote with not thoughts of fame and money and put your heart into it my daughter you have had the bitter and now comes the sweet do your best and grow as happy as we are in your success if there is anything good or true in what I write it isn't mine I owe it all to you and mother and bath said Joe more touched by her father's words than by any amount of praise in the world so taught by love and sorrow Joe wrote her little stories and sent them away to make friends for themselves and her finding it a very charitable world such humble wanderers for they were kindly welcomed and sent home comfortable tokens to their mother like dutiful children whom good fortune overtakes when Amy and Laurie wrote of their engagement Mrs. March feared that Joe would find it difficult to rejoice over it but her fears were soon set at rest for though Joe looked grave at first she took it very quietly and was full of hopes and plans for the children before she read the letter twice it was a sort of written duet wherein each glorified the other in lover-like fashion very pleasant to read and satisfactory to think of for no one had any objection to make you like it mother said Joe as they laid down the closely written sheets and looked at one another yes I hoped it would be so ever since Amy wrote that she had refused Fred I felt sure then that something better than what you call the mercenary spirit had come over her and a hint here and there in her letters made me suspect that love and Laurie would win the day how sharp you are Marmy and how silent you never said a word to me mothers have need of sharp eyes and discreet tongues when they have girls to manage I was half afraid to put the idea into your head lest you should write and congratulate them before the thing was settled I'm not the scatterbrain I was you may trust me I'm sober and sensible enough for anyone's confidant now so you are my dear and I should have made you mine only I fancied it might pain you to learn that your teddy loved someone else now mother did you really think I could be so silly and selfish after I'd refused his love when it was freshest if not best I knew you were sincere then Joe but lately I have thought that if he came back and asked again you might perhaps feel like giving another answer forgive me dear I can't help seeing that you are very lonely and sometimes there's a hungry look in your eyes that goes to my heart so I fancied that your boy might feel the empty place if he tried now no mother it is better as it is and I'm glad Amy has learned to love him but you are right in one thing I am lonely and perhaps if teddy had tried again I might have said yes not because I love him anymore but because I care more to be loved than when he went away I'm glad of that Joe for it shows that you are getting on there are plenty to love you so try to be satisfied with father and mother sisters and brothers friends and babies till the best lover of all comes to give you your reward mothers are the very best lovers in the world but I don't mind whispering to Marmy that I'd like to try all kinds it's very curious but the more I try to satisfy myself with all sorts of natural affections the more I seem to want I'd no idea hearts could take in so many mine is so elastic it never seems full now and I used to be quite content with my family I don't understand it I do and Mrs. March smiled her wise smile as Joe turned back the leaves to read what Amy said of Lori it is so beautiful to be loved as Lori loves me he isn't sentimental doesn't say much about it but I see and feel it in all he says and does and it makes me so happy and so humble that I don't seem to be the same girl I was I never knew how good and generous and tender he was till now for he lets me read his heart and I find it full of noble impulses and hopes and purposes and I'm so proud to know it's mine he says he feels as if he could make a prosperous voyage now with me aboard his mate and lots of love for ballast I pray he may and try to be all he believes me for I love my gallant captain with all my heart and soul and might and never will desert him while God lets us be together oh mother I never knew how much like heaven this world could be when two people love and live for one another and that's our cool reserved and worldly Amy truly love does work miracles how very very happy they must be and Joe laid the wrestling sheets together with a careful hand as one might shut the covers of a lovely romance which holds the reader fast till the end comes and he finds himself alone in the workaday world again by and by Joe roamed away upstairs for it was rainy and she could not walk a restless spirit possessed her and the old feeling came again not bitter as it once was but a sorrowfully patient wonder why one sister should have all she asked the other nothing it was not true she knew that and tried to put it away but the natural craving for affection was strong and Amy's happiness woke the hungry longing for someone to love with heart and soul and cling to while God let them be together up in the Garrett where Joe's and quiet wanderings ended stood four little wooden chests in a row each marked with its owner's name and each filled with relics of the childhood and girlhood ended now for all Joe glanced into them and when she came to her own leaned her chin on the edge and stared absently at the chaotic collection till a bundle of old exercise books caught her eye she drew them out turned them over and relived that pleasant winter at kind to Mrs. Kirk's she had smiled at first then she looked thoughtful next sad and when she came to a little message written in the professor's hands her lips began to tremble the books slid out of her lap and she sat looking at the friendly words as they took a new meaning and touched a tender spot in her heart wait for me my friend I may be a little late but I shall surely come oh if only he would so kind so good so patient with me always my dear old Fritz I didn't value him half enough when I had him but now I should love to see him for everyone seems going away from me and I'm all alone and holding the little paper fast as if it were a promise yet to be fulfilled Joe later head down on a comfortable rag bag and cried as if in opposition to the rain pattering on the roof was it all self pity loneliness or low spirits or was it the waking up of a sentiment which had bided its time as patiently as its inspirer who shall say end of chapter 19