held the umbrella all over Jo), and
every finger of his gloves needed mending.

Passers-by probably thought them a pair of harmless lunatics, for they
entirely forgot to hail a bus, and strolled leisurely along, oblivious
of deepening dusk and fog. Little they cared what anybody thought, for
they were enjoying the happy hour that seldom comes but once in any
life, the magical moment which bestows youth on the old, beauty on the
plain, wealth on the poor, and gives human hearts a foretaste of
heaven. The Professor looked as if he had conquered a kingdom, and the
world had nothing more to offer him in the way of bliss. While Jo
trudged beside him, feeling as if her place had always been there, and
wondering how she ever could have chosen any other lot. Of course, she
was the first to speak--intelligibly, I mean, for the emotional remarks
which followed her impetuous "Oh, yes!" were not of a coherent or
reportable character.

"Friedrich, why didn't you..."

"Ah, heaven, she gifs me the name that no one speaks since Minna died!"
cried the Professor, pausing in a puddle to regard her with grateful
delight.

"I always call you so to myself--I forgot, but I won't unless you like
it."

"Like it? It is more sweet to me than I can tell. Say 'thou', also,
and I shall say your language is almost as beautiful as mine."

"Isn't 'thou' a little sentimental?" asked Jo, privately thinking it a
lovely monosyllable.

"Sentimental? Yes. Thank Gott, we Germans believe in sentiment, and
keep ourselves young mit it. Your English 'you' is so cold, say
'thou', heart's dearest, it means so much to me," pleaded Mr. Bhaer,
more like a romantic student than a grave professor.

"Well, then, why didn't thou tell me all this sooner?" asked Jo
bashfully.

"Now I shall haf to show thee all my heart, and I so gladly will,
because thou must take care of it hereafter. See, then, my Jo--ah, the
dear, funny little name--I had a wish to tell something the day I said
goodbye in New York, but I thought the handsome friend was betrothed to
thee, and so I spoke not. Wouldst thou have said 'Yes', then, if I had
spoken?"

"I don't know. I'm afraid not, for I didn't have any heart just then."

"Prut! That I do not believe. It was asleep till the fairy prince
came through the wood, and waked it up. Ah, well, 'Die erste Liebe ist
die beste', but that I should not expect."

"Yes, the first love is the best, but be so contented, for I never