a tender quiver in her voice; for Marmee's place was empty
now.

Jo put her hand on her sister's, and both sat silent for a little while,
surveying the pleasant scene before them with mingled sad and happy
thoughts.

It certainly did look as if magic had been at work, for quiet Plumfield
was transformed into a busy little world. The house seemed more
hospitable than ever, refreshed now with new paint, added wings,
well-kept lawn and garden, and a prosperous air it had not worn when
riotous boys swarmed everywhere and it was rather difficult for the
Bhaers to make both ends meet. On the hill, where kites used to be
flown, stood the fine college which Mr Laurence's munificent legacy had
built. Busy students were going to and fro along the paths once trodden
by childish feet, and many young men and women were enjoying all the
advantages that wealth, wisdom, and benevolence could give them.

Just inside the gates of Plumfield a pretty brown cottage, very like
the Dovecote, nestled among the trees, and on the green slope westward
Laurie's white-pillared mansion glittered in the sunshine; for when the
rapid growth of the city shut in the old house, spoilt Meg's nest, and
dared to put a soap-factory under Mr Laurence's indignant nose, our
friends emigrated to Plumfield, and the great changes began.

These were the pleasant ones; and the loss of the dear old people was
sweetened by the blessings they left behind; so all prospered now in the
little community, and Mr Bhaer as president, and Mr March as chaplain
of the college, saw their long-cherished dream beautifully realized. The
sisters divided the care of the young people among them, each taking
the part that suited her best. Meg was the motherly friend of the young
women, Jo the confidante and defender of all the youths, and Amy the
lady Bountiful who delicately smoothed the way for needy students, and
entertained them all so cordially that it was no wonder they named her
lovely home Mount Parnassus, so full was it of music, beauty, and the
culture hungry young hearts and fancies long for.

The original twelve boys had of course scattered far and wide during
these years, but all that lived still remembered old Plumfield, and came
wandering back from the four quarters of the earth to tell their various
experiences, laugh over the pleasures of the past, and face the duties
of the present with fresh courage; for such home-comings keep hearts
tender and hands helpful with