r any other lords of
creation, and Beth too shy to do more than peep at them and wonder how
Amy dared to order them about so, but Jo felt quite in her own element,
and found it very difficult to refrain from imitating the gentlemanly
attitudes, phrases, and feats, which seemed more natural to her than
the decorums prescribed for young ladies. They all liked Jo immensely,
but never fell in love with her, though very few escaped without paying
the tribute of a sentimental sigh or two at Amy's shrine. And speaking
of sentiment brings us very naturally to the 'Dovecote'.

That was the name of the little brown house Mr. Brooke had prepared for
Meg's first home. Laurie had christened it, saying it was highly
appropriate to the gentle lovers who 'went on together like a pair of
turtledoves, with first a bill and then a coo'. It was a tiny house,
with a little garden behind and a lawn about as big as a pocket
handkerchief in the front. Here Meg meant to have a fountain,
shrubbery, and a profusion of lovely flowers, though just at present
the fountain was represented by a weather-beaten urn, very like a
dilapidated slopbowl, the shrubbery consisted of several young larches,
undecided whether to live or die, and the profusion of flowers was
merely hinted by regiments of sticks to show where seeds were planted.
But inside, it was altogether charming, and the happy bride saw no
fault from garret to cellar. To be sure, the hall was so narrow it was
fortunate that they had no piano, for one never could have been got in
whole, the dining room was so small that six people were a tight fit,
and the kitchen stairs seemed built for the express purpose of
precipitating both servants and china pell-mell into the coalbin. But
once get used to these slight blemishes and nothing could be more
complete, for good sense and good taste had presided over the
furnishing, and the result was highly satisfactory. There were no
marble-topped tables, long mirrors, or lace curtains in the little
parlor, but simple furniture, plenty of books, a fine picture or two, a
stand of flowers in the bay window, and, scattered all about, the
pretty gifts which came from friendly hands and were the fairer for the
loving messages they brought.

I don't think the Parian Psyche Laurie gave lost any of its beauty
because John put up the bracket it stood upon, that any upholsterer
could have draped the plain muslin curtains more gracefully than Amy's
artistic ha