ur omniboos," said the Professor, waving the loaded
vehicle away, and stopping to pick up the poor little flowers.

"I beg your pardon. I didn't see the name distinctly. Never mind, I
can walk. I'm used to plodding in the mud," returned Jo, winking hard,
because she would have died rather than openly wipe her eyes.

Mr. Bhaer saw the drops on her cheeks, though she turned her head away.
The sight seemed to touch him very much, for suddenly stooping down, he
asked in a tone that meant a great deal, "Heart's dearest, why do you
cry?"

Now, if Jo had not been new to this sort of thing she would have said
she wasn't crying, had a cold in her head, or told any other feminine
fib proper to the occasion. Instead of which, that undignified
creature answered, with an irrepressible sob, "Because you are going
away."

"Ach, mein Gott, that is so good!" cried Mr. Bhaer, managing to clasp
his hands in spite of the umbrella and the bundles, "Jo, I haf nothing
but much love to gif you. I came to see if you could care for it, and
I waited to be sure that I was something more than a friend. Am I?
Can you make a little place in your heart for old Fritz?" he added, all
in one breath.

"Oh, yes!" said Jo, and he was quite satisfied, for she folded both
hands over his arm, and looked up at him with an expression that
plainly showed how happy she would be to walk through life beside him,
even though she had no better shelter than the old umbrella, if he
carried it.

It was certainly proposing under difficulties, for even if he had
desired to do so, Mr. Bhaer could not go down upon his knees, on
account of the mud. Neither could he offer Jo his hand, except
figuratively, for both were full. Much less could he indulge in tender
remonstrations in the open street, though he was near it. So the only
way in which he could express his rapture was to look at her, with an
expression which glorified his face to such a degree that there
actually seemed to be little rainbows in the drops that sparkled on his
beard. If he had not loved Jo very much, I don't think he could have
done it then, for she looked far from lovely, with her skirts in a
deplorable state, her rubber boots splashed to the ankle, and her
bonnet a ruin. Fortunately, Mr. Bhaer considered her the most
beautiful woman living, and she found him more "Jove-like" than ever,
though his hatbrim was quite limp with the little rills trickling
thence upon his shoulders (for he