"Yes, I remember, but the life I wanted then seems selfish,
lonely, and cold to me now. I haven't given up the hope that I may
write a good book yet, but I can wait, and I'm sure it will be all the
better for such experiences and illustrations as these," and Jo pointed
from the lively lads in the distance to her father, leaning on the
Professor's arm, as they walked to and fro in the sunshine, deep in one
of the conversations which both enjoyed so much, and then to her
mother, sitting enthroned among her daughters, with their children in
her lap and at her feet, as if all found help and happiness in the face
which never could grow old to them.

"My castle was the most nearly realized of all. I asked for splendid
things, to be sure, but in my heart I knew I should be satisfied, if I
had a little home, and John, and some dear children like these. I've
got them all, thank God, and am the happiest woman in the world," and
Meg laid her hand on her tall boy's head, with a face full of tender
and devout content.

"My castle is very different from what I planned, but I would not alter
it, though, like Jo, I don't relinquish all my artistic hopes, or
confine myself to helping others fulfill their dreams of beauty. I've
begun to model a figure of baby, and Laurie says it is the best thing
I've ever done. I think so, myself, and mean to do it in marble, so
that, whatever happens, I may at least keep the image of my little
angel."

As Amy spoke, a great tear dropped on the golden hair of the sleeping
child in her arms, for her one well-beloved daughter was a frail little
creature and the dread of losing her was the shadow over Amy's
sunshine. This cross was doing much for both father and mother, for
one love and sorrow bound them closely together. Amy's nature was
growing sweeter, deeper, and more tender. Laurie was growing more
serious, strong, and firm, and both were learning that beauty, youth,
good fortune, even love itself, cannot keep care and pain, loss and
sorrow, from the most blessed for ...

Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and sad and dreary.

"She is growing better, I am sure of it, my dear. Don't despond, but
hope and keep happy," said Mrs. March, as tenderhearted Daisy stooped
from her knee to lay her rosy cheek against her little cousin's pale
one.

"I never ought to, while I have you to cheer me up, Marmee, and Laurie
to take more than half of every burden," re