Mr. Brooke kissed Meg entirely by mistake,
as he somewhat incoherently explained. And Amy, the dignified, tumbled
over a stool, and never stopping to get up, hugged and cried over her
father's boots in the most touching manner. Mrs. March was the first
to recover herself, and held up her hand with a warning, "Hush!
Remember Beth."

But it was too late. The study door flew open, the little red wrapper
appeared on the threshold, joy put strength into the feeble limbs, and
Beth ran straight into her father's arms. Never mind what happened
just after that, for the full hearts overflowed, washing away the
bitterness of the past and leaving only the sweetness of the present.

It was not at all romantic, but a hearty laugh set everybody straight
again, for Hannah was discovered behind the door, sobbing over the fat
turkey, which she had forgotten to put down when she rushed up from the
kitchen. As the laugh subsided, Mrs. March began to thank Mr. Brooke
for his faithful care of her husband, at which Mr. Brooke suddenly
remembered that Mr. March needed rest, and seizing Laurie, he
precipitately retired. Then the two invalids were ordered to repose,
which they did, by both sitting in one big chair and talking hard.

Mr. March told how he had longed to surprise them, and how, when the
fine weather came, he had been allowed by his doctor to take advantage
of it, how devoted Brooke had been, and how he was altogether a most
estimable and upright young man. Why Mr. March paused a minute just
there, and after a glance at Meg, who was violently poking the fire,
looked at his wife with an inquiring lift of the eyebrows, I leave you
to imagine. Also why Mrs. March gently nodded her head and asked,
rather abruptly, if he wouldn't like to have something to eat. Jo saw
and understood the look, and she stalked grimly away to get wine and
beef tea, muttering to herself as she slammed the door, "I hate
estimable young men with brown eyes!"

There never was such a Christmas dinner as they had that day. The fat
turkey was a sight to behold, when Hannah sent him up, stuffed,
browned, and decorated. So was the plum pudding, which melted in one's
mouth, likewise the jellies, in which Amy reveled like a fly in a
honeypot. Everything turned out well, which was a mercy, Hannah said,
"For my mind was that flustered, Mum, that it's a merrycle I didn't
roast the pudding, and stuff the turkey with raisins, let alone bilin'
of it in a clo