say goodbye cheerfully and hopefully,
and send their mother on her anxious journey unsaddened by tears or
complaints from them. Everything seemed very strange when they went
down, so dim and still outside, so full of light and bustle within.
Breakfast at that early hour seemed odd, and even Hannah's familiar
face looked unnatural as she flew about her kitchen with her nightcap
on. The big trunk stood ready in the hall, Mother's cloak and bonnet
lay on the sofa, and Mother herself sat trying to eat, but looking so
pale and worn with sleeplessness and anxiety that the girls found it
very hard to keep their resolution. Meg's eyes kept filling in spite
of herself, Jo was obliged to hide her face in the kitchen roller more
than once, and the little girls wore a grave, troubled expression, as
if sorrow was a new experience to them.

Nobody talked much, but as the time drew very near and they sat waiting
for the carriage, Mrs. March said to the girls, who were all busied
about her, one folding her shawl, another smoothing out the strings of
her bonnet, a third putting on her overshoes, and a fourth fastening up
her travelling bag...

"Children, I leave you to Hannah's care and Mr. Laurence's protection.
Hannah is faithfulness itself, and our good neighbor will guard you as
if you were his own. I have no fears for you, yet I am anxious that
you should take this trouble rightly. Don't grieve and fret when I am
gone, or think that you can be idle and comfort yourselves by being
idle and trying to forget. Go on with your work as usual, for work is
a blessed solace. Hope and keep busy, and whatever happens, remember
that you never can be fatherless."

"Yes, Mother."

"Meg, dear, be prudent, watch over your sisters, consult Hannah, and in
any perplexity, go to Mr. Laurence. Be patient, Jo, don't get
despondent or do rash things, write to me often, and be my brave girl,
ready to help and cheer all. Beth, comfort yourself with your music,
and be faithful to the little home duties, and you, Amy, help all you
can, be obedient, and keep happy safe at home."

"We will, Mother! We will!"

The rattle of an approaching carriage made them all start and listen.
That was the hard minute, but the girls stood it well. No one cried,
no one ran away or uttered a lamentation, though their hearts were very
heavy as they sent loving messages to Father, remembering, as they
spoke that it might be too late to deliver them. They kissed