of your earthly one. The more you love and trust
Him, the nearer you will feel to Him, and the less
you will depend on human power and wisdom. His
love and care never tire or change, can never be taken
from you, but may become the source of lifelong peace,
happiness, and strength. Believe this heartily,
and go to God with all your little cares, and hopes,
and sins, and sorrows, as freely and confidingly
as you come to your mother.”
Jo’s only answer was to hold her mother close,
and in the silence which followed the sincerest prayer
she had ever prayed left her heart without words.
For in that sad yet happy hour, she had learned not
only the bitterness of remorse and despair, but the
sweetness of self-denial and self-control, and led
by her mother’s hand, she had drawn nearer to
the Friend who always welcomes every child with a
love stronger than that of any father, tenderer than
that of any mother.
Amy stirred and sighed in her sleep, and as if eager
to begin at once to mend her fault, Jo looked up with
an expression on her face which it had never worn
before.
“I let the sun go down on my anger. I
wouldn’t forgive her, and today, if it hadn’t
been for Laurie, it might have been too late!
How could I be so wicked?” said Jo, half aloud,
as she leaned over her sister softly stroking the
wet hair scattered on the pillow.
As if she heard, Amy opened her eyes, and held out
her arms, with a smile that went straight to Jo’s
heart. Neither said a word, but they hugged
one another close, in spite of the blankets, and everything
was forgiven and forgotten in one hearty kiss.
MEG GOES TO VANITY FAIR
“I do think it was the most fortunate thing
in the world that those children should have the measles
just now,” said Meg, one April day, as she stood
packing the ‘go abroady’ trunk in her room,
surrounded by her sisters.
“And so nice of Annie Moffat not to forget her
promise. A whole fortnight of fun will be regularly
splendid,” replied Jo, looking like a windmill
as she folded skirts with her long arms.
“And such lovely weather, I’m so glad
of that,” added Beth, tidily sorting neck and
hair ribbons in her best box, lent for the great occasion.
“I wish I was going to have a fine time and
wear all these nice things,” said Amy with her
mouth full of pins, as she artistically replenished
her sister’s cushion.
“I wish you were all going, but as you can’t,
I shall keep my adventures to tell you when I come
back. I’m sure it’s the least I
can do when you have been so kind, lending me things
and helping me get ready,” said Meg, glancing
round the room at the very simple outfit, which seemed
nearly perfect in their eyes.
“What did Mother give you out of the treasure
box?” asked Amy, who had not been present at
the opening of a certain cedar chest in which Mrs.
March kept a few relics of past splendor, as gifts
for her girls when the proper time came.
