While these things were happening at home, Amy was havinghard times at Aunt March's. She felt her exile deeply, andfor the first time in her life, realized how much she wasbeloved and petted at home. Aunt March never petted any one; she did not approve of it, but she meant to be kind, for thewell-behaved little girl pleased her very much, and Aunt March hada soft place in her old heart for her nephew's children, thoughshe didn't think it proper to confess it. She really did herbest to make Amy happy, but, dear me, what mistakes she made.Some old people keep young at heart in spite of wrinkles andgray hairs, can sympathize with children's little cares andjoys, make them feel at home, and can hide wise lessons underpleasant plays, giving and receiving friendship in the sweetestway. But Aunt March had not this gift, and she worried Amy verymuch with her rules and orders, her prim ways, and long, prosytalks. Finding the child more docile and amiable than her sister,the old lady felt it her duty to try and counteract, as far aspossible, the bad effects of home freedom and indulgence. So shetook Amy by the hand, and taught her as she herself had beentaught sixty years ago, a process which carried dismay to Amy'ssoul, and made her feel like a fly in the web of a very strictspider.

She had to wash the cups every morning, and polish up theold-fashioned spoons, the fat silver teapot, and the glasses tillthey shone. Then she must dust the room, and what a trying jobthat was. Not a speck escaped Aunt March's eye, and all thefurniture had claw legs and much carving, which was never dustedto suit. Then Polly had to be fed, the lap dog combed, and adozen trips upstairs and down to get things or deliver orders,for the old lady was very lame and seldom left her big chair. Afterthese tiresome labors, she must do her lessons, which was a dailytrial of every virtue she possessed. Then she was allowed onehour for exercise or play, and didn't she enjoy it?

Laurie came every day, and wheedled Aunt March till Amy wasallowed to go out with him, when they walked and rode and hadcapital times. After dinner, she had to read aloud, and sit stillwhile the old lady slept, which she usually did for an hour, asshe dropped off over the first page. Then patchwork or towelsappeared, and Amy sewed with outward meekness and inward rebelliontill dusk, when she was allowed to amuse herself as she likedtill teatime. The evenings were the worst of all, for Aunt Marchfell to telling long stories about her youth, which were sounutterably dull that Amy was always ready to go to bed, intendingto cry over her hard fate, but usually going to sleep beforeshe had squeezed out more than a tear or two.

If it had not been for Laurie, and old Esther, the maid,she felt that she never could have got through that dreadfultime. The parrot alone was enough to drive her distracted, forhe soon felt that she did not admire him, and revenged himselfby being as mischievous as possible. He pulled her hairwhenever she came near him, upset his bread and milk to plague herwhen she had newly cleaned his cage, made Mop bark by peckingat him while Madam dozed, called her names before company, andbehaved in all respects like an reprehensible old bird. Then shecould not endure the dog, a fat, cross beast who snarled andyelped at her when she made his toilet, and who lay on his backwith all his legs in the air and a most idiotic expression ofcountenance when he wanted something to eat, which was about adozen times a day. The cook was bad-tempered, the old coachmanwas deaf, and Esther the only one who ever took any notice ofthe young lady.

Esther was a Frenchwoman, who had lived with'Madame', asshe called her mistress, for many years, and who rathertyrannized over the old lady, who could not get along without her.Her real name was Estelle, but Aunt March ordered her to change it,and she obeyed, on condition that she was never asked to changeher religion. She took a fancy to Mademoiselle, and amused hervery much with odd stories of her life in France, when Amy satwith her while she got up Madame's laces. She also allowed herto roam about the great house, and examine the curious and prettythings stored away in the big wardrobes and the ancient chests,for Aunt March hoarded like a magpie. Amy's chief delight wasan Indian cabinet, full of queer drawers, little pigeonholes,and secret places, in which were kept all sorts of ornaments,some precious, some merely curious, all more or less antique.To examine and arrange these things gave Amy great satisfaction,especially the jewel cases, in which on velvet cushions reposedthe ornaments which had adorned a belle forty years ago. Therewas the garnet set which Aunt March wore when she came out, thepearls her father gave her on her wedding day, her lover's diamonds,the jet mourning rings and pins, the queer lockets, with portraitsof dead friends and weeping willows made of hair inside, the babybracelets her one little daughter had worn, Uncle March's bigwatch, with the red seal so many childish hands had played with,and in a box all by itself lay Aunt March's wedding ring, too smallnow for her fat finger, but put carefully away like the mostprecious jewel of them all.

"Which would Mademoiselle choose if she had her will?" askedEsther, who always sat near to watch over and lock up the valuables.

"I like the diamonds best, but there is no necklace among them,and I'm fond of necklaces, they are so becoming. I should choosethis if I might," replied Amy, looking with great admiration at astring of gold and ebony beads from which hung a heavy cross ofthe same.

"I, too, covet that, but not as a necklace. Ah, no! To me itis a rosary, and as such I should use it like a good catholic," saidEsther, eyeing the handsome thing wistfully.

"Is it meant to use as you use the string of good-smellingwooden beads hanging over your glass?" asked Amy.

"Truly, yes, to pray with. It would be pleasing to the saintsif one used so fine a rosary as this, instead of wearing it as avain bijou."

"You seem to take a great deal of comfort in your prayers,Esther, and always come down looking quiet and satisfied. I wishI could."

"If Mademoiselle was a Catholic, she would find true comfort,but as that is not to be, it would be well if you went apart eachday to meditate and pray, as did the good mistress whom I servedbefore Madame. She had a little chapel, and in it found solacementfor much trouble."

"Would it be right for me to do so too?" asked Amy, who inher loneliness felt the need of help of some sort, and found thatshe was apt to forget her little book, now that Beth was not thereto remind her of it.

"It would be excellent and charming, and I shall gladlyarrange the little dressing room for you if you like it. Saynothing to Madame, but when she sleeps go you and sit alone awhile to think good thoughts, and pray the dear God preserveyour sister."

Esther was truly pious, and quite sincere in her advice, forshe had an affectionate heart, and felt much for the sisters intheir anxiety. Amy liked the idea, and gave her leave to arrangethe light closet next her room, hoping it would do her good.

"I wish I knew where all these pretty things would go whenAunt March dies," she said, as she slowly replaced the shiningrosary and shut the jewel cases one by one.

"To you and your sisters. I know it, Madame confides in me.I witnessed her will, and it is to be so," whispered Esther smiling.

"How nice! But I wish she'd let us have them now.Procrastination is not agreeable," observed Amy, taking a lastlook at the diamonds.

"It is too soon yet for the young ladies to wear these things.The first one who is affianced will have the pearls, Madame has saidit, and I have a fancy that the little turquoise ring will be givento you when you go, for Madame approves your good behavior andcharming manners."

"Do you think so? Oh, I'll be a lamb, if I can only have thatlovely ring! It's ever so much prettier than Kitty Bryant's. I dolike Aunt March after all." And Amy tried on the blue ring with adelighted face and a firm resolve to earn it.

From that day she was a model of obedience, and the old ladycomplacently admired the success of her training. Esther fittedup the closet with a little table, placed a footstool before it,and over it a picture taken from one of the shut-up rooms. Shethought it was of no great value, but, being appropriate, sheborrowed it, well knowing that Madame would never know it, norcare if she did. It was, however, a very valuable copy of one ofthe famous pictures of the world, and Amy's beauty-loving eyes werenever tired of looking up at the sweet face of the Divine Mother,while her tender thoughts of her own were busy at her heart. Onthe table she laid her little testament and hymnbook, kept a vasealways full of the best flowers Laurie brought her, and came everyday to 'sit alone' thinking good thoughts, and praying the dearGod to preserve her sister. Esther had given her a rosary of blackbeads with a silver cross, but Amy hung it up and did not use it,feeling doubtful as to its fitness for Protestant prayers.

The little girl was very sincere in all this, for being leftalone outside the safe home nest, she felt the need of some kindhand to hold by so sorely that she instinctively turned to thestrong and tender Friend, whose fatherly love most closelysurrounds His little children. She missed her mother's help tounderstand and rule herself, but having been taught where to look,she did her best to find the way and walk in it confidingly. But,Amy was a young pilgrim, and just now her burden seemed very heavy.She tried to forget herself, to keep cheerful, and be satisfied withdoing right, though no one saw or praised her for it. In her firsteffort at being very, very good, she decided to make her will, asAunt March had done, so that if she did fall ill and die, herpossessions might be justly and generously divided. It cost her a pangeven to think of giving up the little treasures which in her eyeswere as precious as the old lady's jewels.

During one of her play hours she wrote out the importantdocument as well as she could, with some help from Esther asto certain legal terms, and when the good-natured Frenchwomanhad signed her name, Amy felt relieved and laid it by to showLaurie, whom she wanted as a second witness. As it was a rainyday, she went upstairs to amuse herself in one of the largechambers, and took Polly with her for company. In this roomthere was a wardrobe full of old-fashioned costumes with whichEsther allowed her to play, and it was her favorite amusement toarray herself in the faded brocades, and parade up and down beforethe long mirror, making stately curtsies, and sweeping her trainabout with a rustle which delighted her ears. So busy was she onthis day that she did not hear Laurie's ring nor see his facepeeping in at her as she gravely promenaded to and fro, flirtingher fan and tossing her head, on which she wore a great pink turban,contrasting oddly with her blue brocade dress and yellow quiltedpetticoat. She was obliged to walk carefully, for she had onhighheeled shoes, and, as Laurie told Jo afterward, it was a comicalsight to see her mince along in her gay suit, with Polly sidlingand bridling just behind her, imitating her as well as he could,and occasionally stopping to laugh or exclaim, "Ain't we fine?Get along, you fright! Hold your tongue! Kiss me, dear! Ha! Ha!"

Having with difficulty restrained an explosion of merriment,lest it should offend her majesty, Laurie tapped and was graciouslyreceived.

"Sit down and rest while I put these things away, then I wantto consult you about a very serious matter," said Amy, when shehad shown her splendor and driven Polly into a corner. "That birdis the trial of my life," she continued, removing the pink mountainfrom her head, while Laurie seated himself astride a chair.

"Yesterday, when Aunt was asleep and I was trying to be as still as amouse, Polly began to squall and flap about in his cage, so I wentto let him out, and found a big spider there. I poked it out, andit ran under the bookcase. Polly marched straight after it, stoopeddown and peeped under the bookcase, saying, in his funny way, with acock of his eye, 'Come out and take a walk, my dear.' I couldn't helplaughing, which made Poll swear, and Aunt woke up and scolded us both."

"Did the spider accept the old fellow's invitation?" asked Laurie, yawning.

"Yes, out it came, and away ran Polly, frightened to death, andscrambled up on Aunt's chair, calling out, 'Catch her! Catch her!Catch her!' as I chased the spider."

"That's a lie! Oh, lor!" cried the parrot, pecking at Laurie's toes.

"I'd wring your neck if you were mine, you old torment," criedLaurie, shaking his fist at the bird, who put his head on one sideand gravely croaked, "Allyluyer! bless your buttons, dear!"

"Now I'm ready," said Amy, shutting the wardrobe and taking apiece of paper out of her pocket. "I want you to read that, please,and tell me if it is legal and right. I felt I ought to do it, forlife is uncertain and I don't want any ill feeling over my tomb."

Laurie bit his lips, and turning a little from the pensivespeaker, read the following document, with praiseworthy gravity,considering the spelling:

MY LAST WILL AND TESTIMENT

I, Amy Curtis March, being in my sane mind, go give andbequeethe all my earthly property - viz. to wit: - namely

To my father, my best pictures, sketches, maps, and worksof art, including frames. Also my $100, to do what he likes with.

To my mother, all my clothes, except the blue apron withpockets - also my likeness, and my medal, with much love.

To my dear sister Margaret, I give my turkquoise ring (if Iget it), also my green box with the doves on it, also my pieceof real lace for her neck, and my sketch of her as a memorial ofher 'little girl'.

To Jo I leave my breastpin, the one mended with sealing wax,also my bronze inkstand - she lost the cover - and my most preciousplaster rabbit, because I am sorry I burned up her story.

To Beth (if she lives after me) I give my dolls and thelittle bureau, my fan, my linen collars and my new slippers ifshe can wear them being thin when she gets well. And I herewithalso leave her my regret that I ever made fun of old Joanna.

To my friend and neighbor Theodore Laurence I bequeethe mypaper mashay portfolio, my clay model of a horse though he didsay it hadn't any neck. Also in return for his great kindnessin the hour of affliction any one of my artistic works he likes,Noter Dame is the best.

To our venerable benefactor Mr. Laurence I leave my purplebox with a looking glass in the cover which will be nice forhis pens and remind him of the departed girl who thanks himfor his favors to her family, especially Beth.

I wish my favorite playmate Kitty Bryant to have the bluesilk apron and my gold-bead ring with a kiss.

To Hannah I give the bandbox she wanted and all the patchworkI leave hoping she 'will remember me, when it you see'.

And now having disposed of my most valuable property I hopeall will be satisfied and not blame the dead. I forgive everyone,and trust we may all meet when the trump shall sound. Amen.

To this will and testiment I set my hand and seal on this20th day of Nov. Anni Domino 1861.

Amy Curtis March

Witnesses:

Estelle Valnor,Theodore Laurence.

The last name was written in pencil, and Amy explainedthat he was to rewrite it in ink and seal it up for her properly.

"What put it into your head? Did anyone tell you about Beth'sgiving away her things?" asked Laurie soberly, as Amy laid a bitof red tape, with sealing wax, a taper, and a standish before him.

She explained and then asked anxiously, "What about Beth?"

"I'm sorry I spoke, but as I did, I'll tell you. She felt soill one day that she told Jo she wanted to give her piano to Meg,her cats to you, and the poor old doll to Jo, who would love it forher sake. She was sorry she had so little to give, and left locksof hair to the rest of us, and her best love to Grandpa. She neverthought of a will."

Laurie was signing and sealing as he spoke, and did not lookup till a great tear dropped on the paper. Amy's face was fullof trouble, but she only said, "Don't people put sort ofpostscripts to their wills, sometimes?"

"Yes, 'codicils', they call them."

"Put one in mine then, that I wish all my curls cut off, andgiven round to my friends. I forgot it, but I want it done thoughit will spoil my looks."

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

"I'm afraid there is, but we must hope for the best, so don'tcry, dear." And Laurie put his arm about her with a brotherlygesture which was very comforting.

When he had gone, she went to her little chapel, and sittingin the twilight, prayed for Beth, with streaming tears and anaching heart, feeling that a million turquoise rings would notconsole her for the loss of her gentle little sister.