like a child. She is so very precious
to me, I feel as if I wanted to keep her always as pure and beautiful as
the marble she loves so well.'

Amy spoke regretfully as she looked about the lovely room where she had
spent so many happy hours with this dear child of hers.

'"Turn and turn about is fair play", as we used to say when we all
wanted to ride on Ellen Tree or wear the russet boots,' said Jo briskly;
'so you must share your girl between you, and see who will do the most
for her.'

'We will,' answered the fond parents, laughing at the recollections Jo's
proverb brought up to them.

'How I did use to enjoy bouncing on the limbs of that old apple-tree!
No real horse ever gave me half the pleasure or the exercise,' said Amy,
looking out of the high window as if she saw the dear old orchard again
and the little girls at play there.

'And what fun I had with those blessed boots!' laughed Jo. 'I've got the
relics now. The boys reduced them to rags; but I love them still, and
would enjoy a good theatrical stalk in them if it were possible.'

'My fondest memories twine about the warming-pan and the sausage. What
larks we had! And how long ago it seems!' said Laurie, staring at the
two women before him as if he found it hard to realize that they ever
had been little Amy and riotous Jo.

'Don't suggest that we are growing old, my Lord. We have only bloomed;
and a very nice bouquet we make with our buds about us,' answered Mrs
Amy, shaking out the folds of her rosy muslin with much the air of
dainty satisfaction the girl used to show in a new dress.

'Not to mention our thorns and dead leaves,' added Jo, with a sigh; for
life had never been very easy to her, and even now she had her troubles
both within and without.

'Come and have a dish of tea, old dear, and see what the young folks are
about. You are tired, and want to be "stayed with flagons and comforted
with apples",' said Laurie, offering an arm to each sister, and leading
them away to afternoon tea, which flowed as freely on Parnassus as the
nectar of old.

They found Meg in the summer-parlour, an airy and delightful room, full
now of afternoon sunshine and the rustle of trees; for the three long
windows opened on the garden. The great music-room was at one end,
and at the other, in a deep alcove hung with purple curtains, a little
household shrine had been made. Three portraits hung there, two marble
busts stood in the corners, and a couch, an oval tabl