"Please, Madam Mother, could you lend me my wife for halfan hour? The luggage has come, and I've been making hay ofAmy's Paris finery, trying to find some things I want," saidLaurie, coming in the next day to find Mrs. Laurence sittingin her mother's lap, as if being made 'the baby' again.

"Certainly. Go, dear, I forgot that you have any home butthis," and Mrs. March pressed the white hand that wore the weddingring, as if asking pardon for her maternal covetousness.

"I shouldn't have come over if I could have helped it, butI can't get on without my little woman any more than a . . ."

"Weathercock can without the wind," suggested Jo, as hepaused for a simile. Jo had grown quite her own saucy selfagain since Teddy came home.

"Exactly, for Amy keeps me pointing due west most of thetime, with only an occasional whiffle round to the south, andI haven't had an easterly spell since I was married. Don't knowanything about the north, but am altogether salubrious and balmy,hey, my lady?"

"Lovely weather so far. I don't know how long it will last,but I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail myship. Come home, dear, and I'll find your bootjack. I supposethat's what you are rummaging after among my things. Men are sohelpless, Mother," said Amy, with a matronly air, which delightedher husband.

"What are you going to do with yourselves after you get settled?"asked Jo, buttoning Amy's cloak as she used to button her pinafores.

"We have our plans. We don't mean to say much about themyet, because we are such very new brooms, but we don't intend tobe idle. I'm going into business with a devotion that shall delightGrandfather, and prove to him that I'm not spoiled. I needsomething of the sort to keep me steady. I'm tired of dawdling,and mean to work like a man."

"And Amy, what is she going to do?" asked Mrs. March, wellpleased at Laurie's decision and the energy with which he spoke.

"After doing the civil all round, and airing our best bonnet,we shall astonish you by the elegant hospitalities of our mansion,the brilliant society we shall draw about us, and the beneficialinfluence we shall exert over the world at large. That's aboutit, isn't it, Madame Recamier?" asked Laurie with a quizzicallook at Amy.

"Time will show. Come away, Impertinence, and don't shockmy family by calling me names before their faces," answered Amy,resolving that there should be a home with a good wife in itbefore she set up a salon as a queen of society.

"How happy those children seem together!" observed Mr. March,finding it difficult to become absorbed in his Aristotle afterthe young couple had gone.

"Yes, and I think it will last," added Mrs. March, with therestful expression of a pilot who has brought a ship safely intoport.

"I know it will. Happy Amy!" and Jo sighed, then smiledbrightly as Professor Bhaer opened the gate with an impatientpush.

Later in the evening, when his mind had been set at restabout the bootjack, Laurie said suddenly to his wife, "Mrs.Laurence."

"My Lord!"

"That man intends to marry our Jo!"

"I hope so, don't you, dear?"

"Well, my love, I consider him a trump, in the fullest senseof that expressive word, but I do wish he was a little youngerand a good deal richer."

"Now, Laurie, don't be too fastidious and worldly-minded.If they love one another it doesn't matter a particle how oldthey are nor how poor. Women never should marry for money . . ."Amy caught herself up short as the words escaped her, and lookedat her husband, who replied, with malicious gravity . . .

"Certainly not, though you do hear charming girls say thatthey intend to do it sometimes. If my memory serves me, youonce thought it your duty to make a rich match. That accounts,perhaps, for your marrying a good-for-nothing like me."

"Oh, my dearest boy, don't, don't say that! I forgot youwere rich when I said 'Yes'. I'd have married you if you hadn'ta penny, and I sometimes wish you were poor that I might showhow much I love you." And Amy, who was very dignified in publicand very fond in private, gave convincing proofs of the truth ofher words.

"You don't really think I am such a mercenary creature asI tried to be once, do you? It would break my heart if youdidn't believe that I'd gladly pull in the same boat with you,even if you had to get your living by rowing on the lake."

"Am I an idiot and a brute? How could I think so, whenyou refused a richer man for me, and won't let me give you halfI want to now, when I have the right? Girls do it every day,poor things, and are taught to think it is their only salvation,but you had better lessons, and though I trembled for you atone time, I was not disappointed, for the daughter was true tothe mother's teaching. I told Mamma so yesterday, and shelooked as glad and grateful as if I'd given her a check for amillion, to be spent in charity. You are not listening to mymoral remarks, Mrs. Laurence," and Laurie paused, for Amy'seyes had an absent look, though fixed upon his face.

"Yes, I am, and admiring the mole in your chin at thesame time. I don't wish to make you vain, but I must confessthat I'm prouder of my handsome husband than of all his money.Don't laugh, but your nose is such a comfort to me," and Amysoftly caressed the well-cut feature with artistic satisfaction.

Laurie had received many compliments in his life, but neverone that suited him better, as he plainly showed though he didlaugh at his wife's peculiar taste, while she said slowly, "MayI ask you a question, dear?"

"Of course, you may."

"Shall you care if Jo does marry Mr. Bhaer?"

"Oh, that's the trouble is it? I thought there was somethingin the dimple that didn't quite suit you. Not being a dog in themanger, but the happiest fellow alive, I assure you I can danceat Jo's wedding with a heart as light as my heels. Do you doubtit, my darling?"

Amy looked up at him, and was satisfied. Her little jealousfear vanished forever, and she thanked him, with a face full oflove and confidence.

"I wish we could do something for that capital old Professor.Couldn't we invent a rich relation, who shall obligingly die outthere in Germany, and leave him a tidy little fortune?" said Laurie,when they began to pace up and down the long drawing room, arm inarm, as they were fond of doing, in memory of the chateau garden.

"Jo would find us out, and spoil it all. She is very proudof him, just as he is, and said yesterday that she thought povertywas a beautiful thing."

"Bless her dear heart! She won't think so when she has aliterary husband, and a dozen little professors and professorinsto support. We won't interfere now, but watch our chance, anddo them a good turn in spite of themselves. I owe Jo for a partof my education, and she believes in people's paying their honestdebts, so I'll get round her in that way."

"How delightful it is to be able to help others, isn't it?That was always one of my dreams, to have the power of givingfreely, and thanks to you, the dream has come true."

"Ah, we'll do quantities of good, won't we? There's onesort of poverty that I particularly like to help. Out-and-outbeggars get taken care of, but poor gentle folks fare badly,because they won't ask, and people don't dare to offer charity.Yet there are a thousand ways of helping them, if one onlyknows how to do it so delicately that it does not offend. Imust say, I like to serve a decayed gentleman better than ablarnerying beggar. I suppose it's wrong, but I do, though itis harder."

"Because it takes a gentleman to do it," added the othermember of the domestic admiration society.

"Thank you, I'm afraid I don't deserve that pretty compliment.But I was going to say that while I was dawdling about abroad, Isaw a good many talented young fellows making all sorts of sacrifices,and enduring real hardships, that they might realize their dreams.Splendid fellows, some of them, working like heros, poorand friendless, but so full of courage, patience, and ambitionthat I was ashamed of myself, and longed to give them a rightgood lift. Those are people whom it's a satisfaction to help,for if they've got genius, it's an honor to be allowed toserve them, and not let it be lost or delayed for want of fuelto keep the pot boiling. If they haven't, it's a pleasure tocomfort the poor souls, and keep them from despair when they findit out."

"Yes, indeed, and there's another class who can't ask, andwho suffer in silence. I know something of it, for I belonged toit before you made a princess of me, as the king does the beggarmaidin the old story. Ambitious girls have a hard time, Laurie,and often have to see youth, health, and precious opportunitiesgo by, just for want of a little help at the right minute. Peoplehave been very kind to me, and whenever I see girls strugglingalong, as we used to do, I want to put out my hand and help them,as I was helped."

"And so you shall, like an angel as you are!" cried Laurie,resolving, with a glow of philanthropic zeal, to found and endowan institution for the express benefit of young women withartistic tendencies. "Rich people have no right to sit downand enjoy themselves, or let their money accumulate for othersto waste. It's not half so sensible to leave legacies when onedies as it is to use the money wisely while alive, and enjoymaking one's fellow creatures happy with it. We'll have a goodtime ourselves, and add an extra relish to our own pleasure bygiving other people a generous taste. Will you be a littleDorcas, going about emptying a big basket of comforts, andfilling it up with good deeds?"

"With all my heart, if you will be a brave St. Martin,stopping as you ride gallantly through the world to share yourcloak with the beggar."

"It's a bargain, and we shall get the best of it!"

So the young pair shook hands upon it, and then pacedhappily on again, feeling that their pleasant home was morehomelike because they hoped to brighten other homes, believingthat their own feet would walk more uprightly along the flowerypath before them, if they smoothed rough ways for other feet,and feeling that their hearts were more closely knit togetherby a love which could tenderly remember those less blest than they.