needed any help," said Jo, wondering.

"I gave my best to the country I love, and kept my tears till he was
gone. Why should I complain, when we both have merely done our duty
and will surely be the happier for it in the end? If I don't seem to
need help, it is because I have a better friend, even than Father, to
comfort and sustain me. My child, the troubles and temptations of your
life are beginning and may be many, but you can overcome and outlive
them all if you learn to feel the strength and tenderness of your
Heavenly Father as you do that of your earthly one. The more you love
and trust Him, the nearer you will feel to Him, and the less you will
depend on human power and wisdom. His love and care never tire or
change, can never be taken from you, but may become the source of
lifelong peace, happiness, and strength. Believe this heartily, and go
to God with all your little cares, and hopes, and sins, and sorrows, as
freely and confidingly as you come to your mother."

Jo's only answer was to hold her mother close, and in the silence which
followed the sincerest prayer she had ever prayed left her heart
without words. For in that sad yet happy hour, she had learned not
only the bitterness of remorse and despair, but the sweetness of
self-denial and self-control, and led by her mother's hand, she had
drawn nearer to the Friend who always welcomes every child with a love
stronger than that of any father, tenderer than that of any mother.

Amy stirred and sighed in her sleep, and as if eager to begin at once
to mend her fault, Jo looked up with an expression on her face which it
had never worn before.

"I let the sun go down on my anger. I wouldn't forgive her, and today,
if it hadn't been for Laurie, it might have been too late! How could I
be so wicked?" said Jo, half aloud, as she leaned over her sister
softly stroking the wet hair scattered on the pillow.

As if she heard, Amy opened her eyes, and held out her arms, with a
smile that went straight to Jo's heart. Neither said a word, but they
hugged one another close, in spite of the blankets, and everything was
forgiven and forgotten in one hearty kiss.

CHAPTER NINE

MEG GOES TO VANITY FAIR

"I do think it was the most fortunate thing in the world that those
children should have the measles just now," said Meg, one April day, as
she stood packing the 'go abroady' trunk in her room, surrounded by her
sisters.

"And so nice of Annie Moffat