While Laurie and Amy were taking conjugal strolls over velvetcarpets, as they set their house in order, and planned a blissfulfuture, Mr. Bhaer and Jo were enjoying promenades of a differentsort, along muddy roads and sodden fields.

"I always do take a walk toward evening, and I don't knowwhy I should give it up, just because I happen to meet the Professoron his way out," said Jo to herself, after two or threeencounters, for though there were two paths to Meg's whicheverone she took she was sure to meet him, either going or returning.He was always walking rapidly, and never seemed to see heruntil quite close, when he would look as if his short-sightedeyes had failed to recognize the approaching lady till thatmoment. Then, if she was going to Meg's he always had somethingfor the babies. If her face was turned homeward, he had merelystrolled down to see the river, and was just returning, unlessthey were tired of his frequent calls.

Under the circumstances, what could Jo do but greet himcivilly, and invite him in? If she was tired of his visits, sheconcealed her weariness with perfect skill, and took care thatthere should be coffee for supper, "as Friedrich - I mean Mr.Bhaer - doesn't like tea."

By the second week, everyone knew perfectly well what wasgoing on, yet everyone tried to look as if they were stone-blindto the changes in Jo's face. They never asked why she sang abouther work, did up her hair three times a day, and got so bloomingwith her evening exercise. And no one seemed to have the slightestsuspicion that Professor Bhaer, while talking philosophy withthe father, was giving the daughter lessons in love.

Jo couldn't even lose her heart in a decorous manner, butsternly tried to quench her feelings, and failing to do so, leda somewhat agitated life. She was mortally afraid of being laughedat for surrendering, after her many and vehement declarations ofindependence. Laurie was her especial dread, but thanks to thenew manager, he behaved with praiseworthy propriety, never calledMr. Bhaer 'a capital old fellow' in public, never alluded, in theremotest manner, to Jo's improved appearance, or expressed theleast surprise at seeing the Professor's hat on the Marches' tablenearly every evening. But he exulted in private and longed forthe time to come when he could give Jo a piece of plate, with abear and a ragged staff on it as an appropriate coat of arms.

For a fortnight, the Professor came and went with lover-likeregularity. Then he stayed away for three whole days, and madeno sign, a proceeding which caused everybody to look sober, andJo to become pensive, at first, and then - alas for romance - verycross.

"Disgusted, I dare say, and gone home as suddenly as he came.It's nothing to me, of course, but I should think he would havecome and bid us goodbye like a gentleman," she said to herself,with a despairing look at the gate, as she put on her things forthe customary walk one dull afternoon.

"You'd better take the little umbrella, dear. It looks likerain," said her mother, observing that she had on her new bonnet,but not alluding to the fact.

"Yes, Marmee, do you want anything in town? I've got torun in and get some paper," returned Jo, pulling out the bowunder her chin before the glass as an excuse for not looking ather mother.

"Yes, I want some twilled silesia, a paper of number nineneedles, and two yards of narrow lavender ribbon. Have you gotyour thick boots on, and something warm under your cloak?"

"I believe so," answered Jo absently.

"If you happen to meet Mr. Bhaer, bring him home to tea.I quite long to see the dear man," added Mrs. March.

Jo heard that, but made no answer, except to kiss her mother,and walk rapidly away, thinking with a glow of gratitude, in spiteof her heartache, "How good she is to me! What do girls do whohaven't any mothers to help them through their troubles?"

The dry-goods stores were not down among the counting-houses,banks, and wholesale warerooms, where gentlemen most do congregate,but Jo found herself in that part of the city before she did asingle errand, loitering along as if waiting for someone, examiningengineering instruments in one window and samples of wool inanother, with most unfeminine interest, tumbling over barrels,being half-smothered by descending bales, and hustled unceremoniouslyby busy men who looked as if they wondered 'how the deuceshe got there'. A drop of rain on her cheek recalled her thoughtsfrom baffled hopes to ruined ribbons. For the drops continued tofall, and being a woman as well as a lover, she felt that, thoughit was too late to save her heart, she might her bonnet. Now sheremembered the little umbrella, which she had forgotten to takein her hurry to be off, but regret was unavailing, and nothingcould be done but borrow one or submit to a drenching. Shelooked up at the lowering sky, down at the crimson bow alreadyflecked with black, forward along the muddy street, then onelong, lingering look behind, at a certain grimy warehouse, with'Hoffmann, Swartz, & Co.' over the door, and said to herself,with a sternly reproachful air . . .

"It serves me right! what business had I to put on all mybest things and come philandering down here, hoping to see theProfessor? Jo, I'm ashamed of you! No, you shall not go thereto borrow an umbrella, or find out where he is, from his friends.You shall trudge away, and do your errands in the rain, and ifyou catch your death and ruin your bonnet, it's no more thanyou deserve. Now then!"

With that she rushed across the street so impetuously that shenarrowly escaped annihilation from a passing truck, and precipitatedherself into the arms of a stately old gentleman, who said,"I beg pardon, ma'am," and looked mortally offended. Somewhatdaunted, Jo righted herself, spread her handkerchief overthe devoted ribbons, and putting temptation behind her, hurried on,with increasing dampness about the ankles, and much clashing ofumbrellas overhead. The fact that a somewhat dilapidated blueone remained stationary above the unprotected bonnet attractedher attention, and looking up, she saw Mr. Bhaer looking down.

"I feel to know the strong-minded lady who goes so bravelyunder many horse noses, and so fast through much mud. What doyou down here, my friend?"

"I'm shopping."

Mr. Bhaer smiled, as he glanced from the pickle factory onone side to the wholesale hide and leather concern on the other,but he only said politely, "You haf no umbrella. May I go also,and take for you the bundles?"

"Yes, thank you."

Jo's cheeks were as red as her ribbon, and she wondered whathe thought of her, but she didn't care, for in a minute she foundherself walking away arm in arm with her Professor, feeling as ifthe sun had suddenly burst out with uncommon brilliancy, thatthe world was all right again, and that one thoroughly happy womanwas paddling through the wet that day.

"We thought you had gone," said Jo hastily, for she knew hewas looking at her. Her bonnet wasn't big enough to hide her face,and she feared he might think the joy it betrayed unmaidenly.

"Did you believe that I should go with no farewell to thosewho haf been so heavenly kind to me?" he asked so reproachfullythat she felt as if she had insulted him by the suggestion, andanswered heartily . . .

"No, I didn't. I knew you were busy about your own affairs,but we rather missed you, Father and Mother especially."

"And you?"

"I'm always glad to see you, sir."

In her anxiety to keep her voice quite calm, Jo made it rathercool, and the frosty little monosyllable at the end seemed to chillthe Professor, for his smile vanished, as he said gravely . . .

"I thank you, and come one more time before I go."

"You are going, then?"

"I haf no longer any business here, it is done."

"Successfully, I hope?" said Jo, for the bitterness of disappointmentwas in that short reply of his.

"I ought to think so, for I haf a way opened to me by whichI can make my bread and gif my Junglings much help."

"Tell me, please! I like to know all about the - the boys,"said Jo eagerly.

"That is so kind, I gladly tell you. My friends find for mea place in a college, where I teach as at home, and earn enoughto make the way smooth for Franz and Emil. For this I should begrateful, should I not?"

"Indeed you should. How splendid it will be to have youdoing what you like, and be able to see you often, and the boys!"cried Jo, clinging to the lads as an excuse for the satisfactionshe could not help betraying.

"Ah! But we shall not meet often, I fear, this place is atthe West."

"So far away!" and Jo left her skirts to their fate, as ifit didn't matter now what became of her clothes or herself.

Mr. Bhaer could read several languages, but he had not learned toread women yet. He flattered himself that he knew Jo pretty well,and was, therefore, much amazed by the contradictions of voice,face, and manner, which she showed him in rapid succession that day,for she was in half a dozen different moods in the course of half anhour. When she met him she looked surprised, though it wasimpossible to help suspecting that she had come for that expresspurpose. When he offered her his arm, she took it with a look thatfilled him with delight, but when he asked if she missed him, shegave such a chilly, formal reply that despair fell upon him. Onlearning his good fortune she almost clapped her hands. Was the joyall for the boys? Then on hearing his destination, she said, "So faraway!" in a tone of despair that lifted him on to a pinnacle ofhope, but the next minute she tumbled him down again by observing,like one entirely absorbed in the matter . . .

"Here's the place for my errands. Will you come in? Itwon't take long."

Jo rather prided herself upon her shopping capabilities,and particularly wished to impress her escort with the neatnessand dispatch with which she would accomplish the business.But owing to the flutter she was in, everything went amiss.She upset the tray of needles, forgot the silesia was to be'twilled' till it was cut off, gave the wrong change, andcovered herself with confusion by asking for lavender ribbonat the calico counter. Mr. Bhaer stood by, watching her blushand blunder, and as he watched, his own bewilderment seemed tosubside, for he was beginning to see that on some occasions,women, like dreams, go by contraries.

When they came out, he put the parcel under his arm witha more cheerful aspect, and splashed through the puddles as ifhe rather enjoyed it on the whole.

"Should we no do a little what you call shopping for thebabies, and haf a farewell feast tonight if I go for my lastcall at your so pleasant home?" he asked, stopping before awindow full of fruit and flowers.

"What will we buy?" asked Jo, ignoring the latter part ofhis speech, and sniffing the mingled odors with an affectationof delight as they went in.

"May they haf oranges and figs?" asked Mr. Bhaer, with apaternal air.

"They eat them when they can get them."

"Do you care for nuts?"

"Like a squirrel."

"Hamburg grapes. Yes, we shall drink to the Fatherland inthose?"

Jo frowned upon that piece of extravagance, and asked whyhe didn't buy a frail of dates, a cask of raisins, and a bag ofalmonds, and be done with it? Whereat Mr. Bhaer confiscated herpurse, produced his own, and finished the marketing by buyingseveral pounds of grapes, a pot of rosy daisies, and a prettyjar of honey, to be regarded in the light of a demijohn. Thendistorting his pockets with knobby bundles, and giving her theflowers to hold, he put up the old umbrella, and they traveledon again.

"Miss Marsch, I haf a great favor to ask of you," began theProfessor, after a moist promenade of half a block.

"Yes, sir?" and Jo's heart began to beat so hard she wasafraid he would hear it.

"I am bold to say it in spite of the rain, because so shorta time remains to me."

"Yes, sir," and Jo nearly crushed the small flowerpot withthe sudden squeeze she gave it.

"I wish to get a little dress for my Tina, and I am too stupidto go alone. Will you kindly gif me a word of taste and help?"

"Yes, sir," and Jo felt as calm and cool all of a sudden as ifshe had stepped into a refrigerator.

"Perhaps also a shawl for Tina's mother, she is so poor and sick,and the husband is such a care. Yes, yes, a thick, warm shawlwould be a friendly thing to take the little mother."

"I'll do it with pleasure, Mr. Bhaer." "I'm going very fast,and he's getting dearer every minute," added Jo to herself, thenwith a mental shake she entered into the business with an energythat was pleasant to behold.

Mr. Bhaer left it all to her, so she chose a pretty gown forTina, and then ordered out the shawls. The clerk, being a marriedman, condescended to take an interest in the couple, who appearedto be shopping for their family.

"Your lady may prefer this. It's a superior article, a mostdesirable color, quite chaste and genteel," he said, shaking outa comfortable gray shawl, and throwing it over Jo's shoulders.

"Does this suit you, Mr. Bhaer?" she asked, turning herback to him, and feeling deeply grateful for the chance of hidingher face.

"Excellently well, we will haf it," answered the Professor,smiling to himself as he paid for it, while Jo continued torummage the counters like a confirmed bargain-hunter.

"Now shall we go home?" he asked, as if the words werevery pleasant to him.

"This is not our omniboos," said the Professor, waving theloaded vehicle away, and stopping to pick up the poor littleflowers.

"I beg your pardon. I didn't see the name distinctly. Nevermind, I can walk. I'm used to plodding in the mud," returned Jo,winking hard, because she would have died rather than openlywipe her eyes.

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

Now, if Jo had not been new to this sort of thing she wouldhave said she wasn't crying, had a cold in her head, or toldany 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, managingto 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 ifyou could care for it, and I waited to be sure that I was somethingmore than a friend. Am I? Can you make a little place in yourheart for old Fritz?" he added, all in one breath.

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

It was certainly proposing under difficulties, for even ifhe had desired to do so, Mr. Bhaer could not go down upon hisknees, on account of the mud. Neither could he offer Jo hishand, except figuratively, for both were full. Much less couldhe indulge in tender remonstrations in the open street, thoughhe was near it. So the only way in which he could express hisrapture was to look at her, with an expression which glorifiedhis face to such a degree that there actually seemed to belittle rainbows in the drops that sparkled on his beard. Ifhe had not loved Jo very much, I don't think he could have doneit then, for she looked far from lovely, with her skirts in adeplorable state, her rubber boots splashed to the ankle, andher bonnet a ruin. Fortunately, Mr. Bhaer considered her themost beautiful woman living, and she found him more "Jove-like"than ever, though his hatbrim was quite limp with the littlerills trickling thence upon his shoulders (for he held theumbrella all over Jo), and every finger of his gloves neededmending.

Passers-by probably thought them a pair of harmless lunatics,for they entirely forgot to hail a bus, and strolledleisurely along, oblivious of deepening dusk and fog. Littlethey cared what anybody thought, for they were enjoying thehappy hour that seldom comes but once in any life, the magicalmoment which bestows youth on the old, beauty on the plain,wealth on the poor, and gives human hearts a foretaste of heaven.The Professor looked as if he had conquered a kingdom, and theworld had nothing more to offer him in the way of bliss. WhileJo trudged beside him, feeling as if her place had always beenthere, and wondering how she ever could have chosen any otherlot. Of course, she was the first to speak - intelligibly, Imean, for the emotional remarks which followed her impetuous"Oh, yes!" were not of a coherent or reportable character.

"Friedrich, why didn't you . . ."

"Ah, heaven, she gifs me the name that no one speaks sinceMinna died!" cried the Professor, pausing in a puddle to regardher with grateful delight.

"I always call you so to myself - I forgot, but I won't unlessyou like it."

"Like it? It is more sweet to me than I can tell. Say 'thou',also, and I shall say your language is almost as beautiful as mine."

"Isn't 'thou' a little sentimental?" asked Jo, privately thinkingit a lovely monosyllable.

"Sentimental? Yes. Thank Gott, we Germans believe in sentiment,and keep ourselves young mit it. Your English 'you' is so cold, say'thou', heart's dearest, it means so much to me," pleaded Mr. Bhaer,more like a romantic student than a grave professor.

"Well, then, why didn't thou tell me all this sooner?" askedJo bashfully.

"Now I shall haf to show thee all my heart, and I so gladlywill, because thou must take care of it hereafter. See, then, myJo - ah, the dear, funny little name - I had a wish to tell somethingthe day I said goodbye in New York, but I thought the handsomefriend was betrothed to thee, and so I spoke not. Wouldst thouhave said 'Yes', then, if I had spoken?"

"I don't know. I'm afraid not, for I didn't have any heart just then."

"Prut! That I do not believe. It was asleep till the fairy princecame through the wood, and waked it up. Ah, well, 'Die erste Liebeist die beste', but that I should not expect."

"Yes, the first love is the best, but be so contented, for Inever had another. Teddy was only a boy, and soon got over hislittle fancy," said Jo, anxious to correct the Professor's mistake.

"Good! Then I shall rest happy, and be sure that thou givestme all. I haf waited so long, I am grown selfish, as thou wiltfind, Professorin."

"I like that," cried Jo, delighted with her new name. "Nowtell me what brought you, at last, just when I wanted you?"

"This," and Mr. Bhaer took a little worn paper out of hiswaistcoat pocket.

Jo unfolded it, and looked much abashed, for it was one ofher own contributions to a paper that paid for poetry, whichaccounted for her sending it an occasional attempt.

"How could that bring you?" she asked, wondering what hemeant.

"I found it by chance. I knew it by the names and theinitials, and in it there was one little verse that seemed tocall me. Read and find him. I will see that you go not inthe wet."

"It's very bad poetry, but I felt it when I wrote it, one daywhen I was very lonely, and had a good cry on a rag bag. I neverthought it would go where it could tell tales," said Jo, tearingup the verses the Professor had treasured so long.

"Let it go, it has done it's duty, and I will haf a fresh onewhen I read all the brown book in which she keeps her littlesecrets," said Mr. Bhaer with a smile as he watched the fragmentsfly away on the wind. "Yes," he added earnestly, "I read that,and I think to myself, She has a sorrow, she is lonely, she wouldfind comfort in true love. I haf a heart full, full for her. ShallI not go and say, 'If this is not too poor a thing to gif for whatI shall hope to receive, take it in Gott's name?'"

"And so you came to find that it was not too poor, but the oneprecious thing I needed," whispered Jo.

"I had no courage to think that at first, heavenly kind as wasyour welcome to me. But soon I began to hope, and then I said,'I will haf her if I die for it,' and so I will!" cried Mr. Bhaer,with a defiant nod, as if the walls of mist closing round them werebarriers which he was to surmount or valiantly knock down.

Jo thought that was splendid, and resolved to be worthy of her knight,though he did not come prancing on a charger in gorgeous array.

"What made you stay away so long?" she asked presently, findingit so pleasant to ask confidential questions and get delightfulanswers that she could not keep silent.

"It was not easy, but I could not find the heart to take youfrom that so happy home until I could haf a prospect of one togif you, after much time, perhaps, and hard work. How could I askyou to gif up so much for a poor old fellow, who has no fortunebut a little learning?"

"I'm glad you are poor. I couldn't bear a rich husband,"said Jo decidedly, adding in a softer tone, "Don't fear poverty.I've known it long enough to lose my dread and be happy workingfor those I love, and don't call yourself old - forty is the primeof life. I couldn't help loving you if you were seventy!"

The Professor found that so touching that he would have beenglad of his handkerchief, if he could have got at it. As hecouldn't, Jo wiped his eyes for him, and said, laughing, as shetook away a bundle or two . . .

"I may be strong-minded, but no one can say I'm out of mysphere now, for woman's special mission is supposed to be dryingtears and bearing burdens. I'm to carry my share, Friedrich,and help to earn the home. Make up your mind to that, or I'llnever go," she added resolutely, as he tried to reclaim his load.

"We shall see. Haf you patience to wait a long time, Jo?I must go away and do my work alone. I must help my boys first,because, even for you, I may not break my word to Minna. Canyou forgif that, and be happy while we hope and wait?"

"Yes, I know I can, for we love one another, and that makesall the rest easy to bear. I have my duty, also, and my work.I couldn't enjoy myself if I neglected them even for you, sothere's no need of hurry or impatience. You can do your partout West, I can do mine here, and both be happy hoping for thebest, and leaving the future to be as God wills."

"Ah! Thou gifest me such hope and courage, and I haf nothingto gif back but a full heart and these empty hands," cried theProfessor, quite overcome.

Jo never, never would learn to be proper, for when he saidthat as they stood upon the steps, she just put both hands intohis, whispering tenderly, "Not empty now," and stooping down,kissed her Friedrich under the umbrella. It was dreadful, butshe would have done it if the flock of draggle-tailed sparrowson the hedge had been human beings, for she was very far goneindeed, and quite regardless of everything but her own happiness.Though it came in such a very simple guise, that was the crowningmoment of both their lives, when, turning from the night andstorm and loneliness to the household light and warmth and peacewaiting to receive them, with a glad "Welcome home!" Jo led herlover in, and shut the door.