Beth was postmistress, for, being most at home, she couldattend to it regularly, and dearly liked the daily task ofunlocking the little door and distributing the mail. One Julyday she came in with her hands full, and went about the houseleaving letters and parcels like the penny post.

"Here's your posy, Mother! Laurie never forgets that," shesaid, putting the fresh nosegay in the vase that stood in 'Marmee'scorner', and was kept supplied by the affectionate boy.

"Miss Meg March, one letter and a glove," continued Beth,delivering the articles to her sister, who sat near her mother,stitching wristbands.

"Why, I left a pair over there, and here is only one," saidMeg, looking at the gray cotton glove. "Didn't you drop theother in the garden?"

"No, I'm sure I didn't, for there was only one in the office."

"I hate to have odd gloves! Never mind, the other may befound. My letter is only a translation of the German song Iwanted. I think Mr. Brooke did it, for this isn't Laurie'swriting."

Mrs. March glanced at Meg, who was looking very pretty inher gingham morning gown, with the little curls blowing about herforehead, and very womanly, as she sat sewing at her little worktable,full of tidy white rolls, so unconscious of the thought in hermother's mind as she sewed and sang, while her fingers flewand her thoughts were busied with girlish fancies as innocentand fresh as the pansies in her belt, that Mrs. March smiled andwas satisfied.

"Two letters for Doctor Jo, a book, and a funny old hat,which covered the whole post office and stuck outside," saidBeth, laughing as she went into the study where Jo sat writing.

"What a sly fellow Laurie is! I said I wished bigger hatswere the fashion, because I burn my face every hot day. He said,'Why mind the fashion? Wear a big hat, and be comfortable!' Isaid I would if I had one, and he has sent me this, to try me. I'llwear it for fun, and show him I don't care for the fashion." Andhanging the antique broad-brim on a bust of Plato, Jo read herletters.

One from her mother made her cheeks glow and her eyes fill,for it said to her . . .

My Dear:

I write a little word to tell you with how much satisfactionI watch your efforts to control your temper. You say nothingabout your trials, failures, or successes, and think, perhaps,that no one sees them but the Friend whose help you daily ask,if I may trust the well-worn cover of your guidebook. I, too,have seen them all, and heartily believe in the sincerity ofyour resolution, since it begins to bear fruit. Go on, dear,patiently and bravely, and always believe that no one sympathizesmore tenderly with you than your loving . . .

Mother

"That does me good! That's worth millions of money andpecks of praise. Oh, Marmee, I do try! I will keep on trying,and not get tired, since I have you to help me."

Laying her head on her arms, Jo wet her little romance witha few happy tears, for she had thought that no one saw andappreciated her efforts to be good, and this assurance was doublyprecious, doubly encouraging, because unexpected and from theperson whose commendation she most valued. Feeling stronger thanever to meet and subdue her Apollyon, she pinned the note inside herfrock, as a shield and a reminder, lest she be taken unaware, andproceeded to open her other letter, quite ready for either good orbad news. In a big, dashing hand, Laurie wrote . . .

Dear Jo,What ho!

Some english girls and boys are coming to see me tomorrowand I want to have a jolly time. If it's fine, I'm going to pitchmy tent in Longmeadow, and row up the whole crew to lunch andcroquet - have a fire, make messes, gypsy fashion, and all sortsof larks. They are nice people, and like such things. Brooke willgo to keep us boys steady, and Kate Vaughn will play propriety forthe girls. I want you all to come, can't let Beth off at any price,and nobody shall worry her. Don't bother about rations, I'll seeto that and everything else, only do come, there's a good fellow!

In a tearing hurry,Yours ever, Laurie.

"Here's richness!" cried Jo, flying in to tell the news to Meg.

"Of course we can go, Mother? It will be such a help toLaurie, for I can row, and Meg see to the lunch, and the childrenbe useful in some way."

"I hope the Vaughns are not fine grown-up people. Do youknow anything about them, Jo?" asked Meg.

"Only that there are four of them. Kate is older than you,Fred and Frank (twins) about my age, and a little girl (Grace), whois nine or ten. Laurie knew them abroad, and liked the boys. Ifancied, from the way he primmed up his mouth in speaking of her,that he didn't admire Kate much."

"I'm so glad my French print is clean, it's just the thingand so becoming!" observed Meg complacently. "Have you anythingdecent, Jo?"

"Scarlet and gray boating suit, good enough for me. I shallrow and tramp about, so I don't want any starch to think of. You'llcome, Betty?"

"If you won't let any boys talk to me."

"Not a boy!"

"I like to please Laurie, and I'm not afraid of Mr. Brooke,he is so kind. But I don't want to play, or sing, or say anything.I'll work hard and not trouble anyone, and you'll take care of me,Jo, so I'll go."

"That's my good girl. You do try to fight off your shyness,and I love you for it. Fighting faults isn't easy, as I know, anda cheery word kind of gives a lift. Thank you, Mother," And Jogave the thin cheek a grateful kiss, more precious to Mrs. Marchthan if it had given back the rosy roundness of her youth.

"I had a box of chocolate drops, and the picture I wanted tocopy," said Amy, showing her mail.

"And I got a note from Mr. Laurence, asking me to come overand play to him tonight, before the lamps are lighted, and I shallgo," added Beth, whose friendship with the old gentleman prosperedfinely.

"Now let's fly round, and do double duty today, so that we canplay tomorrow with free minds," said Jo, preparing to replace herpen with a broom.

When the sun peeped into the girls' room early next morningto promise them a fine day, he saw a comical sight. Each hadmade such preparation for the fete as seemed necessary and proper.Meg had an extra row of little curlpapers across her forehead, Johad copiously anointed her afflicted face with cold cream, Bethhad taken Joanna to bed with her to atone for the approachingseparation, and Amy had capped the climax by putting a colthespinon her nose to uplift the offending feature. It was one of thekind artists use to hold the paper on their drawing boards,therefore quite appropriate and effective for the purpose it was nowbeing put. This funny spectacle appeared to amuse the sun, forhe burst out with such radiance that Jo woke up and roused hersisters by a hearty laugh at Amy's ornament.

Sunshine and laughter were good omens for a pleasure party,and soon a lively bustle began in both houses. Beth, who wasready first, kept reporting what went on next door, and enlivenedher sisters' toilets by frequent telegrams from the window.

"There goes the man with the tent! I see Mrs. Barker doingup the lunch in a hamper and a great basket. Now Mr. Laurence islooking up at the sky and the weathercock. I wish he would gotoo. There's Laurie, looking like a sailor, nice boy! Oh, mercyme! Here's a carriage full of people, a tall lady, a little girl,and two dreadful boys. One is lame, poor thing, he's got a crutch.Laurie didn't tell us that. Be quick, girls! It's getting late.Why, there is Ned Moffat, I do declare. Meg, isn't that the manwho bowed to you one day when we were shopping?"

"So it is. How queer that he should come. I thought he wasat the mountains. There is Sallie. I'm glad she got back in time.Am I all right, Jo?" cried Meg in a flutter.

"A regular daisy. Hold up your dress and put your hat onstraight, it looks sentimental tipped that way and will fly offat the first puff. Now then, come on!"

"Oh, Jo, you are not going to wear that awful hat? It's tooabsurd! You shall not make a guy of yourself," remonstrated Meg,as Jo tied down with a red ribbon the broad-brimmed, old-fashionedleghorn Laurie had sent for a joke.

"I just will, though, for it's capital, so shady, light, and big.It will make fun, and I don't mind being a guy if I'm comfortable."With that Jo marched straight away and the rest followed,a bright little band of sisters, all looking their best in summersuits, with happy faces under the jaunty hatbrims.

Laurie ran to meet and present them to his friends in themost cordial manner. The lawn was the reception room, and forseveral minutes a lively scene was enacted there. Meg wasgrateful to see that Miss Kate, though twenty, was dressed witha simplicity which American girls would do well to imitate, andwho was much flattered by Mr. Ned's assurances that he cameespecially to see her. Jo understood why Laurie 'primmed uphis mouth' when speaking of Kate, for that young lady had astandoff-don't-touch-me air, which contrasted strongly with thefree and easy demeanor of the other girls. Beth took an observationof the new boys and decided that the lame one was not 'dreadful',but gentle and feeble, and she would be kind to him on thataccount. Amy found Grace a well-mannered, merry, little person,and after staring dumbly at one another for a few minutes, theysuddenly became very good friends.

Tents, lunch, and croquet utensils having been sent onbeforehand, the party was soon embarked, and the two boatspushed off together, leaving Mr. Laurence waving his hat on theshore. Laurie and Jo rowed one boat, Mr. Brooke and Ned theother, while Fred Vaughn, the riotous twin, did his best toupset both by paddling about in a wherry like a disturbed waterbug. Jo's funny hat deserved a vote of thanks, for it was ofgeneral utility. It broke the ice in the beginning by producinga laugh, it created quite a refreshing breeze, flapping to andfro as she rowed, and would make an excellent umbrella for thewhole party, if a shower came up, she said. Miss Kate decidedthat she was 'odd', but rather clever, and smiled upon her fromafar.

Meg, in the other boat, was delightfully situated, face toface with the rowers, who both admired the prospect and featheredtheir oars with uncommon 'skill and dexterity'. Mr. Brooke wasa grave, silent young man, with handsome brown eyes and a pleasantvoice. Meg liked his quiet manners and considered him a walkingencyclopedia of useful knowledge. He never talked to her much, buthe looked at her a good deal, and she felt sure that he did notregard her with aversion. Ned, being in college, of course puton all the airs which freshmen think it their bounden duty toassume. He was not very wise, but very good-natured, and altogetheran excellent person to carry on a picnic. Sallie Gardiner wasabsorbed in keeping her white pique dress clean and chattering withthe ubiquitous Fred, who kept Beth in constant terror by his pranks.

It was not far to Longmeadow, but the tent was pitched andthe wickets down by the time they arrived. A pleasant green field,with three wide-spreading oaks in the middle and a smooth strip ofturf for croquet.

"Welcome to Camp Laurence!" said the young host, as theylanded with exclamations of delight.

"Brooke is commander in chief, I am commissary general, theother fellows are staff officers, and you, ladies, are company.The tent is for your especial benefit and that oak is your drawingroom, this is the messroom and the third is the camp kitchen. Now,let's have a game before it gets hot, and then we'll see aboutdinner."

Frank, Beth, Amy, and Grace sat down to watch the gameplayed by the other eight. Mr. Brooke chose Meg, Kate, and Fred.Laurie took Sallie, Jo, and Ned. The English played well, butthe Americans played better, and contested every inch of theground as strongly as if the spirit of '76 inspired them. Jo andFred had several skirmishes and once narrowly escaped high words.Jo was through the last wicket and had missed the stroke, whichfailure ruffled her a good deal. Fred was close behind her andhis turn came before hers. He gave a stroke, his ball hit thewicket, and stopped an inch on the wrong side. No one was verynear, and running up to examine, he gave it a sly nudge with histoe, which put it just an inch on the right side.

"I'm through! Now, Miss Jo, I'll settle you, and get infirst," cried the young gentleman, swinging his mallet for anotherblow.

"You pushed it. I saw you. It's my turn now," said Josharply.

"Upon my word, I didn't move it. It rolled a bit, perhaps,but that is allowed. So, stand off please, and let me have a goat the stake."

"We don't cheat in America, but you can, if you choose," saidJo angrily.

"Yankees are a deal the most tricky, everybody knows. Thereyou go!" returned Fred, croqueting her ball far away.

Jo opened her lips to say something rude, but checked herselfin time, colored up to her forehead and stood a minute, hammeringdown a wicket with all her might, while Fred hit the stake anddeclared himself out with much exultation. She went off to get herball, and was a long time finding it among the bushes, but she cameback, looking cool and quiet, and waited her turn patiently. Ittook several strokes to regain the place she had lost, and when shegot there, the other side had nearly won, for Kate's ball was thelast but one and lay near the stake.

"By George, it's all up with us! Goodbye, Kate. Miss Joowes me one, so you are finished," cried Fred excitedly, as theyall drew near to see the finish.

"Yankees have a trick of being generous to their enemies,"said Jo, with a look that made the lad redden, "especially whenthey beat them," she added, as, leaving Kate's ball untouched, shewon the game by a clever stroke.

Laurie threw up his hat, then remembered that it wouldn't doto exult over the defeat of his guests, and stopped in the middleof the cheer to whisper to his friend, "Good for you, Jo! He didcheat, I saw him. We can't tell him so, but he won't do it again,take my word for it."

Meg drew her aside, under pretense of pinning up a loosebraid, and said approvingly, "It was dreadfully provoking, but youkept your temper, and I'm so glad, Jo."

"Don't praise me, Meg, for I could box his ears this minute.I should certainly have boiled over if I hadn't stayed among thenettles till I got my rage under control enough to hold my tongue.It's simmering now, so I hope he'll keep out of my way," returnedJo, biting her lips as she glowered at Fred from under her big hat.

"Time for lunch," said Mr. Brooke, looking at his watch."Commissary general, will you make the fire and get water, whileMiss March, Miss Sallie, and I spread the table? Who can make goodcoffee?"

"Jo can," said Meg, glad to recommend her sister. So Jo,feeling that her late lessons in cookery were to do her honor, wentto preside over the coffeepot, while the children collected drysticks, and the boys made a fire and got water from a spring nearby. Miss Kate sketched and Frank talked to Beth, who was makinglittle mats of braided rushes to serve as plates.

The commander in chief and his aides soon spread thetablecloth with an inviting array of eatables and drinkables,prettily decorated with green leaves. Jo announced that the coffeewas ready, and everyone settled themselves to a hearty meal, for youthis seldom dyspeptic, and exercise develops wholesome appetites.A very merry lunch it was, for everything seemed fresh and funny, andfrequent peals of laughter startled a venerable horse who fed nearby. There was a pleasing inequality in the table, which producedmany mishaps to cups and plates, acorns dropped in the milk, littleblack ants partook of the refreshments without being invited, andfuzzy caterpillars swung down from the tree to see what was goingon. Three white-headed children peeped over the fence, and anobjectionable dog barked at them from the other side of the riverwith all his might and main.

"There's salt here," said Laurie, as he handed Jo a saucerof berries.

"Thank you, I prefer spiders," she replied, fishing up twounwary little ones who had gone to a creamy death. "How dareyou remind me of that horrid dinner party, when yours is sonice in every way?" added Jo, as they both laughed and ate outof one plate, the china having run short.

"I had an uncommonly good time that day, and haven't gotover it yet. This is no credit to me, you know, I don't doanything. It's you and Meg and Brooke who make it all go, andI'm no end obliged to you. What shall we do when we can't eatanymore?" asked Laurie, feeling that his trump card had beenplayed when lunch was over.

"Have games till it's cooler. I brought Authors, and I daresay Miss Kate knows something new and nice. Go and ask her. She'scompany, and you ought to stay with her more."

"Aren't you company too? I thought she'd suit Brooke, buthe keeps talking to Meg, and Kate just stares at them through thatridiculous glass of hers. I'm going, so you needn't try to preachpropriety, for you can't do it, Jo."

Miss Kate did know several new games, and as the girls wouldnot, and the boys could not, eat any more, they all adjourned tothe drawing room to play Rig-marole.

"One person begins a story, any nonsense you like, and tellsas long as he pleases, only taking care to stop short at someexciting point, when the next takes it up and does the same. It'svery funny when well done, and makes a perfect jumble of tragicalcomical stuff to laugh over. Please start it, Mr. Brooke," saidKate, with a commanding air, which surprised Meg, who treated thetutor with as much respect as any other gentleman.

Lying on the grass at the feet of the two young ladies, Mr.Brooke obediently began the story, with the handsome brown eyessteadily fixed upon the sunshiny river.

"Once on a time, a knight went out into the world to seekhis fortune, for he had nothing but his sword and his shield.He traveled a long while, nearly eight-and-twenty years, andhad a hard time of it, till he came to the palace of a good oldking, who had offered a reward to anyone who could tame and traina fine but unbroken colt, of which he was very fond. The knightagreed to try, and got on slowly but surely, for the colt was agallant fellow, and soon learned to love his new master, thoughhe was freakish and wild. Every day, when he gave his lessons tothis pet of the king's, the knight rode him through the city, andas he rode, he looked everywhere for a certain beautiful face,which he had seen many times in his dreams, but never found. Oneday, as he went prancing down a quiet street, he saw at the windowof a ruinous castle the lovely face. He was delighted, inquiredwho lived in this old castle, and was told that several captiveprincesses were kept there by a spell, and spun all day to layup money to buy their liberty. The knight wished intensely thathe could free them, but he was poor and could only go by eachday, watching for the sweet face and longing to see it out inthe sunshine. At last he resolved to get into the castle andask how he could help them. He went and knocked. The greatdoor flew open, and he beheld . . ."

"A ravishingly lovely lady, who exclaimed, with a cry ofrapture, 'At last! At last!'" continued Kate, who had readFrench novels, and admired the style. "'Tis she!' cried CountGustave, and fell at her feet in an ecstasy of joy. 'Oh, rise!'she said, extending a hand of marble fairness. 'Never! Till youtell me how I may rescue you,' swore the knight, still kneeling.'Alas, my cruel fate condemns me to remain here till my tyrantis destroyed.' 'Where is the villain?' 'In the mauve salon. Go,brave heart, and save me from despair.' 'I obey, and returnvictorious or dead!' With these thrilling words he rushed away,and flinging open the door of the mauve salon, was about to enter,when he received . . ."

"A stunning blow from the big Greek lexicon, which an oldfellow in a black gown fired at him," said Ned. "Instantly, SirWhat's-his-name recovered himself, pitched the tyrant out of thewindow, and turned to join the lady, victorious, but with a bumpon his brow, found the door locked, tore up the curtains, made arope ladder, got halfway down when the ladder broke, and he wentheadfirst into the moat, sixty feet below. Could swim like aduck, paddled round the castle till he came to a little doorguarded by two stout fellows, knocked their heads together tillthey cracked like a couple of nuts, then, by a trifling exertionof his prodigious strength, he smashed in the door, went up apair of stone steps covered with dust a foot thick, toads as bigas your fist, and spiders that would frighten you into hysterics,Miss March. At the top of these steps he came plump upon a sightthat took his breath away and chilled his blood . . ."

"A tall figure, all in white with a veil over its face and alamp in its wasted hand," went on Meg. "It beckoned, glidingnoiselessly before him down a corridor as dark and cold as anytomb. Shadowy effigies in armor stood on either side, a deadsilence reigned, the lamp burned blue, and the ghostly figure everand anon turned its face toward him, showing the glitter of awfuleyes through its white veil. They reached a curtained door, behindwhich sounded lovely music. He sprang forward to enter, but thespecter plucked him back, and waved threateningly before him a . . ."

"Snuffbox," said Jo, in a sepulchral tone, which convulsed theaudience. "'Thankee,' said the knight politely, as he took a pinchand sneezed seven times so violently that his head fell off. 'Ha!Ha!' laughed the ghost, and having peeped through the keyhole at theprincesses spinning away for dear life, the evil spirit picked upher victim and put him in a large tin box, where there were elevenother knights packed together without their heads, like sardines,who all rose and began to . . ."

"Dance a hornpipe," cut in Fred, as Jo paused for breath, "and,as they danced, the rubbishy old castle turned to a man-of-war infull sail. 'Up with the jib, reef the tops'l halliards, helm hardalee, and man the guns!' roared the captain, as a Portuguese piratehove in sight, with a flag black as ink flying from her foremast.'Go in and win, my hearties!' says the captain, and a tremendousfight began. Of course the British beat - they always do."

"No, they don't!" cried Jo, aside.

"Having taken the pirate captain prisoner, sailed slap overthe schooner, whose decks were piled high with dead and whoselee scuppers ran blood, for the order had been 'Cutlasses, anddie hard!' 'Bosun's mate, take a bight of the flying-jib sheet,and start this villain if he doesn't confess his sins doublequick,' said the British captain. The Portuguese held his tonguelike a brick, and walked the plank, while the jolly tars cheeredlike mad. But the sly dog dived, came up under the man-of-war,scuttled her, and down she went, with all sail set, 'To thebottom of the sea, sea, sea' where . . ."

"Oh, gracious! What shall I say?" cried Sallie, as Fredended his rigmarole, in which he had jumbled together pell-mellnautical phrases and facts out of one of his favorite books."Well, they went to the bottom, and a nice mermaid welcomed them,but was much grieved on finding the box of headless knights, andkindly pickled them in brine, hoping to discover the mysteryabout them, for being a woman, she was curious. By-and-by a divercame down, and the mermaid said, 'I'll give you a box of pearlsif you can take it up,' for she wanted to restore the poor thingsto life, and couldn't raise the heavy load herself. So the diverhoisted it up, and was much disappointed on opening it to findno pearls. He left it in a great lonely field, where it wasfound by a . . ."

"Little goose girl, who kept a hundred fat geese in the field,"said Amy, when Sallie's invention gave out. "The little girl wassorry for them, and asked an old woman what she should do to helpthem. 'Your geese will tell you, they know everything.' said theold woman. So she asked what she should use for new heads, sincethe old ones were lost, and all the geese opened their hundredmouths and screamed . . ."

"'Cabbages!'" continued Laurie promptly. "'Just the thing,'said the girl, and ran to get twelve fine ones from her garden.She put them on, the knights revived at once, thanked her, andwent on their way rejoicing, never knowing the difference, forthere were so many other heads like them in the world that no onethought anything of it. The knight in whom I'm interested went backto find the pretty face, and learned that the princesses had spunthemselves free and all gone and married, but one. He was in agreat state of mind at that, and mounting the colt, who stood byhim through thick and thin, rushed to the castle to see which wasleft. Peeping over the hedge, he saw the queen of his affectionspicking flowers in her garden. 'Will you give me a rose?' saidhe. 'You must come and get it. I can't come to you, it isn'tproper,' said she, as sweet as honey. He tried to climb overthe hedge, but it seemed to grow higher and higher. Then hetried to push through, but it grew thicker and thicker, and hewas in despair. So he patiently broke twig after twig till hehad made a little hole through which he peeped, saying imploringly,'Let me in! Let me in!' But the pretty princess did not seemto understand, for she picked her roses quietly, and left himto fight his way in. Whether he did or not, Frank will tell you."

"I can't. I'm not playing, I never do," said Frank, dismayedat the sentimental predicament out of which he was to rescue theabsurd couple. Beth had disappeared behind Jo, and Grace wasasleep.

"So the poor knight is to be left sticking in the hedge, ishe?" asked Mr. Brooke, still watching the river, and playingwith the wild rose in his buttonhole.

"I guess the princess gave him a posy, and opened the gateafter a while," said Laurie, smiling to himself, as he threwacorns at his tutor.

"What a piece of nonsense we have made! With practice wemight do something quite clever. Do you know Truth?"

"I hope so," said Meg soberly.

"The game, I mean?"

"What is it?" said Fred.

"Why, you pile up your hands, choose a number, and draw outin turn, and the person who draws at the number has to answertruly any question put by the rest. It's great fun."

"Let's try it," said Jo, who liked new experiments.

Miss Kate and Mr. Brooke, Meg, and Ned declined, but Fred,Sallie, Jo, and Laurie piled and drew, and the lot fell to Laurie.

"Who are your heroes?" asked Jo.

"Grandfather and Napoleon."

"Which lady here do you think prettiest?" said Sallie.

"Margaret."

"Which do you like best?" from Fred.

"Jo, of course."

"What silly questions you ask!" And Jo gave a disdainfulshrug as the rest laughed at Laurie's matter-of-fact tone.

"Try again. Truth isn't a bad game," said Fred.

"It's a very good one for you," retorted Jo in a low voice.Her turn came next.

"What is your greatest fault?" asked Fred, by way of testingin her the virtue he lacked himself.

"A quick temper."

"What do you most wish for?" said Laurie.

"A pair of boot lacings," returned Jo, guessing and defeating his purpose.

"Not a true answer. You must say what you really do want most."

"Genius. Don't you wish you could give it to me, Laurie?"And she slyly smiled in his disappointed face.

"What virtues do you most admire in a man?" asked Sallie.

"Courage and honesty."

"Now my turn," said Fred, as his hand came last.

"Let's give it to him," whispered Laurie to Jo, who noddedand asked at once . . .

"Didn't you cheat at croquet?"

"Well, yes, a little bit."

"Rather."

"Don't you think the English nation perfect in every respect?"asked Sallie.

"I should be ashamed of myself if I didn't."

"He's a true John Bull. Now, Miss Sallie, you shall havea chance without waiting to draw. I'll harrrow up your feelingsfirst by asking if you don't think you are something of a flirt,"said Laurie, as Jo nodded to Fred as a sign that peace was declared.

"You impertinent boy! Of course I'm not," exclaimed Sallie,with an air that proved the contrary.

"What do you hate most?" asked Fred.

"Spiders and rice pudding."

"What do you like best?" asked Jo.

"Dancing and French gloves."

"Well, I think Truth is a very silly play. Let's have asensible game of Authors to refresh our minds," proposed Jo.

Ned, Frank, and the little girls joined in this, and while itwent on, the three elders sat apart, talking. Miss Kate took outher sketch again, and Margaret watched her, while Mr. Brooke layon the grass with a book, which he did not read.

"How beautifully you do it! I wish I could draw," said Meg,with mingled admiration and regret in her voice.

"Why don't you learn? I should think you had taste and talentfor it," replied Miss Kate graciously.

"I haven't time."

"Your mamma prefers other accomplishments, I fancy. So didmine, but I proved to her that I had talent by taking a few lessonsprivately, and then she was quite willing I should go on. Can'tyou do the same with your governess?"

"I have none."

"I forgot young ladies in America go to school more than withus. Very fine schools they are, too, Papa says. You go to aprivate one, I suppose?"

"I don't go at all. I am a governess myself."

"Oh, indeed!" said Miss Kate, but she might as well have said,"Dear me, how dreadful!" for her tone implied it, and something inher face made Meg color, and wish she had not been so frank.

Mr. Brooke looked up and said quickly, "Young ladies in Americalove independence as much as their ancestors did, and are admiredand respected for supporting themselves."

"Oh, yes, of course it's very nice and proper in them to doso. We have many most respectable and worthy young women who dothe same and are employed by the nobility, because, being thedaughters of gentlemen, they are both well bred and accomplished,you know," said Miss Kate in a patronizing tone that hurt Meg'spride, and made her work seem not only more distasteful, butdegrading.

"Did the German song suit, Miss March?" inquired Mr. Brooke,breaking an awkward pause.

"Oh, yes! It was very sweet, and I'm much obliged to whoevertranslated it for me." And Meg's downcast face brightened as she spoke.

"Don't you read German?" asked Miss Kate with a look of surprise.

"Not very well. My father, who taught me, is away, and I don'tget on very fast alone, for I've no one to correct my pronunciation."

"Try a little now. Here is Schiller's Mary Stuart and a tutor wholoves to teach." And Mr. Brooke laid his book on her lap withan inviting smile.

"It's so hard I'm afraid to try," said Meg, grateful, but bashfulin the presence of the accomplished young lady beside her.

"I'll read a bit to encourage you." And Miss Kate read oneof the most beautiful passages in a perfectly correct butperfectly expressionless manner.

Mr. Brooke made no comment as she returned the book to Meg,who said innocently, "I thought it was poetry."

"Some of it is. Try this passage."

There was a queer smile about Mr. Brooke's mouth as heopened at poor Mary's lament.

Meg obediently following the long grass-blade which her newtutor used to point with, read slowly and timidly, unconsciouslymaking poetry of the hard words by the soft intonation of hermusical voice. Down the page went the green guide, and presently,forgetting her listener in the beauty of the sad scene, Meg readas if alone, giving a little touch of tragedy to the words of theunhappy queen. If she had seen the brown eyes then, she wouldhave stopped short, but she never looked up, and the lesson wasnot spoiled for her.

"Very well indeed!" said Mr. Brooke, as she paused, quite ignoringher many mistakes, and looking as if he did indeed love to teach.

Miss Kate put up her glass, and, having taken a survey ofthe little tableau before her, shut her sketch book, saying withcondescension, "You've a nice accent and in time will be a cleverreader. I advise you to learn, for German is a valuableaccomplishment to teachers. I must look after Grace, she is romping."And Miss Kate strolled away, adding to herself with a shrug, "Ididn't come to chaperone a governess, though she is young andpretty. What odd people these Yankees are. I'm afraid Lauriewill be quite spoiled among them."

"I forgot that English people rather turn up their noses atgovernesses and don't treat them as we do," said Meg, lookingafter the retreating figure with an annoyed expression.

"Tutors also have rather a hard time of it there, as I knowto my sorrow. There's no place like America for us workers, MissMargaret." And Mr. Brooke looked so contented and cheerful thatMeg was ashamed to lament her hard lot.

"I'm glad I live in it then. I don't like my work, but I geta good deal of satisfaction out of it after all, so I won't complain.I only wished I liked teaching as you do."

"I think you would if you had Laurie for a pupil. I shallbe very sorry to lose him next year," said Mr. Brooke, busilypunching holes in the turf.

"Going to college, I suppose?" Meg's lips asked the question,but her eyes added, "And what becomes of you?"

"Yes, it's high time he went, for he is ready, and as soon ashe is off, I shall turn soldier. I am needed."

"I am glad of that!" exclaimed Meg. "I should think everyyoung man would want to go, though it is hard for the mothersand sisters who stay at home," she added sorrowfully.

"I have neither, and very few friends to care whether I liveor die," said Mr. Brooke rather bitterly as he absently put thedead rose in the hole he had made and covered it up, like alittle grave.

"Laurie and his grandfather would care a great deal, and weshould all be very sorry to have any harm happen to you," saidMeg heartily.

"Thank you, that sounds pleasant," began Mr. Brooke, lookingcheerful again, but before he could finish his speech, Ned, mountedon the old horse, came lumbering up to display his equestrian skillbefore the young ladies, and there was no more quiet that day.

"Don't you love to ride?" asked Grace of Amy, as they stoodresting after a race round the field with the others, led by Ned.

"I dote upon it. My sister, Meg, used to ride when Papa wasrich, but we don't keep any horses now, except Ellen Tree," addedAmy, laughing.

"Tell me about Ellen Tree. Is it a donkey?" asked Gracecuriously.

"Why, you see, Jo is crazy about horses and so am I, butwe've only got an old sidesaddle and no horse. Out in ourgarden is an apple tree that has a nice low branch, so Jo putthe saddle on it, fixed some reins on the part that turns up,and we bounce away on Ellen Tree whenever we like."

"How funny!" laughed Grace. "I have a pony at home, andride nearly every day in the park with Fred and Kate. It's verynice, for my friends go too, and the Row is full of ladies andgentlemen."

"Dear, how charming! I hope I shall go abroad some day,but I'd rather go to Rome than the Row," said Amy, who hadnot the remotest idea what the Row was and wouldn't have askedfor the world.

Frank, sitting just behind the little girls, heard what theywere saying, and pushed his crutch away from him with an impatientgesture as he watched the active lads going through all sorts ofcomical gymnastics. Beth, who was collecting the scatteredAuthor cards, looked up and said, in her shy yet friendly way,"I'm afraid you are tired. Can I do anything for you?"

"Talk to me, please. It's dull, sitting by myself," answeredFrank, who had evidently been used to being made much of at home.

If he asked her to deliver a Latin oration, it would nothave seemed a more impossible task to bashful Beth, but therewas no place to run to, no Jo to hide behind now, and the poorboy looked so wistfully at her that she bravely resolved to try.

"What do you like to talk about?" she asked, fumbling overthe cards and dropping half as she tried to tie them up.

"Well, I like to hear about cricket and boating and hunting,"said Frank, who had not yet learned to suit his amusements tohis strength.

My heart! What shall I do? I don't know anything about them,thought Beth, and forgetting the boy's misfortune in her flurry,she said, hoping to make him talk, "I never saw any hunting, butI suppose you know all about it."

"I did once, but I can never hunt again, for I got hurt leapinga confounded five-barred gate, so there are no more horses andhounds for me," said Frank with a sigh that made Beth hate herselffor her innocent blunder.

"Your deer are much prettier than our ugly buffaloes," shesaid, turning to the prairies for help and feeling glad that shehad read one of the boys' books in which Jo delighted.

Buffaloes proved soothing and satisfactory, and in her eagernessto amuse another, Beth forgot herself, and was quite unconsciousof her sisters' surprise and delight at the unusual spectacleof Beth talking away to one of the dreadful boys, against whom shehad begged protection.

"Bless her heart! She pities him, so she is good to him,"said Jo, beaming at her from the croquet ground.

"I always said she was a little saint," added Meg, as ifthere could be no further doubt of it.

"I haven't heard Frank laugh so much for ever so long," saidGrace to Amy, as they sat discussing dolls and making tea setsout of the acorn cups.

"My sister Beth is a very fastidious girl, when she likes to be,"said Amy, well pleased at Beth's success. She meant 'facinating',but as Grace didn't know the exact meaning of either word,fastidious sounded well and made a good impression.

An impromptu circus, fox and geese, and an amicable game ofcroquet finished the afternoon. At sunset the tent was struck,hampers packed, wickets pulled up, boats loaded, and the wholeparty floated down the river, singing at the tops of their voices.Ned, getting sentimental, warbled a serenade with the pensiverefrain . . .

and at the lines . . .

he looked at Meg with such a lackadiasical expression that shelaughed outright and spoiled his song.

"How can you be so cruel to me?" he whispered, under coverof a lively chorus. "You've kept close to that starched-upEnglishwoman all day, and now you snub me."

"I didn't mean to, but you looked so funny I really couldn'thelp it," replied Meg, passing over the first part of his reproach,for it was quite true that she had shunned him, remembering theMoffat party and the talk after it.

Ned was offended and turned to Sallie for consolation, sayingto her rather pettishly, "There isn't a bit of flirt in that girl,is there?"

"Not a particle, but she's a dear," returned Sallie, defendingher friend even while confessing her shortcomings.

"She's not a stricken deer anyway," said Ned, trying to bewitty, and succeeding as well as very young gentlemen usually do.

On the lawn where it had gathered, the little party separatedwith cordial good nights and good-bys, for the Vaughns were goingto Canada. As the four sisters went home through the garden, MissKate looked after them, saying, without the patronizing tone inher voice, "In spite of their demonstrative manners, American girlsare very nice when one knows them."

"I quite agree with you," said Mr. Brooke.