nt for them in
a long low whistle and the fearful prediction as they parted at the
gate, "Mark my words, Jo, you'll go next."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

THE FIRST WEDDING

The June roses over the porch were awake bright and early on that
morning, rejoicing with all their hearts in the cloudless sunshine,
like friendly little neighbors, as they were. Quite flushed with
excitement were their ruddy faces, as they swung in the wind,
whispering to one another what they had seen, for some peeped in at the
dining room windows where the feast was spread, some climbed up to nod
and smile at the sisters as they dressed the bride, others waved a
welcome to those who came and went on various errands in garden, porch,
and hall, and all, from the rosiest full-blown flower to the palest
baby bud, offered their tribute of beauty and fragrance to the gentle
mistress who had loved and tended them so long.

Meg looked very like a rose herself, for all that was best and sweetest
in heart and soul seemed to bloom into her face that day, making it
fair and tender, with a charm more beautiful than beauty. Neither silk,
lace, nor orange flowers would she have. "I don't want a fashionable
wedding, but only those about me whom I love, and to them I wish to
look and be my familiar self."

So she made her wedding gown herself, sewing into it the tender hopes
and innocent romances of a girlish heart. Her sisters braided up her
pretty hair, and the only ornaments she wore were the lilies of the
valley, which 'her John' liked best of all the flowers that grew.

"You do look just like our own dear Meg, only so very sweet and lovely
that I should hug you if it wouldn't crumple your dress," cried Amy,
surveying her with delight when all was done.

"Then I am satisfied. But please hug and kiss me, everyone, and don't
mind my dress. I want a great many crumples of this sort put into it
today," and Meg opened her arms to her sisters, who clung about her
with April faces for a minute, feeling that the new love had not
changed the old.

"Now I'm going to tie John's cravat for him, and then to stay a few
minutes with Father quietly in the study," and Meg ran down to perform
these little ceremonies, and then to follow her mother wherever she
went, conscious that in spite of the smiles on the motherly face, there
was a secret sorrow hid in the motherly heart at the flight of the
first bird from the nest.

As the younger girls stand together, g