The
big house did prove a Palace Beautiful, though it took some time for all to get
in, and Beth found it very hard to pass the lions. Old Mr. Laurence was the
biggest one, but after he had called, said something funny or kind to each one
of the girls, and talked over old times with their mother, nobody felt much
afraid of him, except timid Beth. The other lion was the fact that they were
poor and Laurie rich, for this made them shy of accepting favors which they
could not return. But, after a while, they found that he considered them the
benefactors, and could not do enough to show how grateful he was for Mrs.
March's motherly welcome, their cheerful society, and the comfort he took in
that humble home of theirs. So they soon forgot their pride and interchanged
kindnesses without stopping to think which was the greater.
All
sorts of pleasant things happened about that time, for the new friendship
flourished like grass in spring. Every one liked Laurie, and he privately
informed his tutor that "the Marches were regularly splendid girls."
With the delightful enthusiasm of youth, they took the solitary boy into their
midst and made much of him, and he found something very charming in the
innocent companionship of these simple-hearted girls. Never having known mother
or sisters, he was quick to feel the influences they brought about him, and
their busy, lively ways made him ashamed of the indolent life he led. He was
tired of books, and found people so interesting now that Mr. Brooke was obliged
to make very unsatisfactory reports, for Laurie was always playing truant and
running over to the Marches'.
"Never
mind, let him take a holiday, and make it up afterward," said the old
gentleman. "The good lady next door says he is studying too hard and needs
young society, amusement, and exercise. I suspect she is right, and that I've
been coddling the fellow as if I'd been his grandmother. Let him do what he
likes, as long as he is happy. He can't get into mischief in that little
nunnery over there, and Mrs. March is doing more for him than we can."
What
good times they had, to be sure. Such plays and tableaux, such sleigh rides and
skating frolics, such pleasant evenings in the old parlor, and now and then
such gay little parties at the great house. Meg could walk in the conservatory
whenever she liked and revel in bouquets, Jo browsed over the new library
voraciously, and convulsed the old gentleman with her criticisms, Amy copied
pictures and enjoyed beauty to her heart's content, and Laurie played `lord of
the manor' in the most delightful style.
But
Beth, though yearning for the grand piano, could not pluck up courage to go to
the `Mansion of Bliss', as Meg called it. She went once with Jo, but the old
gentleman, not being aware of her infirmity, stared at her so hard from under
his heavy eyebrows, and said "Hey!" so loud, that he frightened her
so much her `feet chattered on the floor', she never told her mother, and she
ran away, declaring she would never go there any more, not even for the dear
piano. No persuasions or enticements could overcome her fear, till, the fact
coming to Mr. Laurence's ear in some mysterious way, he set about mending
matters. During one of the brief calls he made, he artfully led the
conversation to music, and talked away about great singers whom he had seen,
fine organs he had heard, and told such charming anecdotes that Beth found it
impossible to stay in her distant corner, but crept nearer and nearer, as if
fascinated. At the back of his chair she stopped and stood listening, with her great
eyes wide open and her cheeks red with excitement of this unusual performance.
Taking no more notice of her than if she had been a fly, Mr. Laurence talked on
about Laurie's lessons and teachers. And presently, as if the idea had just
occurred to him, he said to Mrs. March...
"The
boy neglects his music now, and I'm glad of it, for he was getting too fond of
it. But the piano suffers for want of use. Wouldn't some of your girls like to
run over, and practice on it now and then, just to keep it in tune, you know,
ma`am?"
Beth
took a step forward, and pressed her hands tightly together to keep from
clapping them, for this was an irresistible temptation, and the thought of
practicing on that splendid instrument quite took her breath away. Before Mrs.
March could reply, Mr. Laurence went on with an odd little nod and smile...
"They
needn't see or speak to anyone, but run in at any time. For I'm shut up in my
study at the other end of the house, Laurie is out a great deal, and the
servants are never near the drawing room after nine o'clock."
Here
he rose, as if going, and Beth made up her mind to speak, for that last
arrangement left nothing to be desired. "Please, tell the young ladies
what I say, and if they don't care to come, why, never mind." Here a little
hand slipped into his, and Beth looked up at him with a face full of gratitude,
as she said, in her earnest yet timid way...
"Oh
sir, they do care, very very much!" "Are you the musical girl?"
he asked, without any startling "Hey!" as he looked down at her very
kindly.
"I'm
Beth. I love it dearly, and I'll come, if you are quite sure nobody will hear
me, and be disturbed," she added, fearing to be rude, and trembling at her
own boldness as she spoke.
"Not
a soul, my dear. The house is empty half the day, so come and drum away as much
as you like, and I shall be obliged to you."
"How
kind you are, sir!"
Beth
blushed like a rose under the friendly look he wore, but she was not frightened
now, and gave the hand a grateful squeeze because she had no words to thank him
for the precious gift he had given her. The old gentleman softly stroked the
hair off her forehead, and, stooping down, he kissed herr, saying, in a tone
few people ever heard...
"I
had a little girl once, with eyes like these. God bless you, my dear! Good day.
madam." And away he went, in a great hurry.
Beth
had a rapture with her mother, and then rushed up to impart the glorious news
to her family of invalids, as the girls were not home. How blithely she sang
that evening, and how they all laughed at her because she woke Amy in the night
by playing the piano on her face in her sleep. Next day, having seen both the
old and young gentleman out of the house, Beth, after two or three retreats,
fairly got in at the side door, and made her way as noiselessly as any mouse to
the drawing room where her idol stood. Quite by accident, of course, some
pretty, easy music lay on the piano, and with trembling fingers and frequent
stops to listen and look about, Beth at last touched the great instrument, and
straightway forgot her fear, herself, and everything else but the unspeakable
delight which the music gave her, for it was like the voice of a beloved
friend.
She
stayed till Hannah came to take her home to dinner, but she had no appetite,
and could only sit and smile upon everyone in a general state of beatitude.
After
that, the little brown hood slipped through the hedge nearly every day, and the
great drawing room was haunted by a tuneful spirit that came and went unseen.
She never knew that Mr. Laurence opened his study door to hear the
old-fashioned airs he liked. She never saw Laurie mount guard in the hall to
warn the servants away. She never suspected that the exercise books and new
songs which she found in the rack were put there for her especial benefit, and
when he talked to her about music at home, she only thought how kind he was to
tell things that helped her so much. So she enjoyed herself heartily, and
found, what isn't always the case, that her granted wish was all she had hoped.
Perhaps it was because she was so grateful for this blessing that a greater was
given her. At any rate she deserved both.
"Mother,
I'm going to work Mr. Laurence a pair of slippers. He is so kind to me, I must
thank him, and I don't know any other way. Can I do it?" asked Beth, a few
weeks after that eventful call of his.
"Yes,
dear. It will please him very much, and be a nice way of thanking him. The
girls will help you about them, and I will pay for the making up," replied
Mrs. March, who took peculiar pleasure in granting Beth's requests because she
so seldom asked anything for herself.
After
many serious discussions with Meg and Jo, the pattern was chosen, the materials
bought, and the slippers begun. A cluster of grave yet cheerful pansies on a
deeper purple ground was pronounced very appropriate and pretty, and beth worked
away early and late, with occasional lifts over hard parts. She was a nimble
little needlewoman, and they were finished before anyone got tired of them.
Then she wrote a short, simple note, and with Laurie's help, got them smuggled
onto the study table one morning before the old gentleman was up.
When
this excitement was over, Beth waited to see what would happen. All day passed
a a part of the next before any acknowledgement arrived, and she was beginning
to fear she had offended her crochety friend. On the afternoon of the second
day, she went out to do an errand, and give poor Joanna, the invalid doll, her
daily exercise. As she came up the street, on her return, she saw three, yes,
four heads popping in and out of the parlor windows, and the moment they saw
her, several hands were waved, and several joyful voices screamed...
"Here's
a letter from the old gentleman! Come quick, and read it!"
"Oh,
Beth, he's sent you..." began Amy, gesticulating with unseemly energy, but
she got no further, for Jo quenched her by slamming down the window.
Beth
hurried on in a flutter of suspense. At the door her sisters seized and bore
her to the parlor in a triumphal procession, all pointing and all saying at
once, "Look there! Look there!" Beth did look, and turned pale with
delight and surprise, for there stood a little cabinet piano, with a letter
lying on the glossy lid, directed like a sign board to "Miss Elizabeth
March."
"For
me?" gasped Beth, holding onto Jo and feeling as if she should tumble
down, it was such an overwhelming thing altogether.
"Yes,
all for you, my precious! Isn't it splendid of him? Don't you think he's the
dearest old man in the world? Here's the key in the letter. We didn't open it,
but we are dying to know what he says," cried Jo, hugging her sister and
offering the note.
"You
read it! I can't, I feel so queer! Oh, it is too lovely!" and Beth hid her
face in Jo's apron, quite upset by her present.
Jo
opened the paper and began to laugh, for the first worked she saw were...
"Miss
March:
"Dear
Madam--"
"How
nice it sounds! I wish someone would write to me so!" said Amy, who
thought the old-fashioned address very elegant.
"`I
have had many pairs of slippers in my life, but I never had any that suited me
so well as yours, '" continues Jo. "`Heartsease is my favorite
flower, and these will always remind me of the gentle giver. I like to pay my
debts, so I know you will allow `the old gentleman' to send you something which
once belonged to the little grand daughter he lost. With hearty thanks and best
wishes, I remain "`Your grateful friend and humble servant, "`JAMES
LAURENCE'
"There,
Beth, that's an honor to be proud of, I'm sure! Laurie told me how fond
Mr.Laurence used to be of the child who died, and how he kept all her little
things carefully. Just think, he's given you her piano. That comes of having
big blue eyes and loving music," said Jo, trying to soothe Beth, who
trembled and looked more excited than she had ever been before.
"See
the cunning brackets to hold candles, and the nice green sild, puckered up,
with a gold rose in the middle, and the pretty rack and stool, all
complete," added Meg, opening the instrument and displaying its beauties.
"`Your
humble servant, James Laurence'. Only think of his writing that to you. I'll
tell the girls. They'll think it's splendid," said Amy, much impressed by
the note.
"Try
it, honey. Let's hear the sound of the baby pianny," said Hannah, who
always took a share in the family joys and sorrows.
So
Beth tried it, and everyone pronounced it the most remarkable piano ever heard.
It had evidently been newly tuned and put in apple- pie order, but, perfect as
it was, I think the real charm lay in the happiest of all happy faces which
leaned over it, as Beth lovingly touched the beautiful black and white keys and
pressed the bright pedals.
"You'll
have to go and thank him," said Jo, by way of a joke, for the idea of the
child's really going never entered her head.
"Yes,
I mean to. I guess I'll go no, before I get frightened thinking about it."
And, to the utter amazement of the assembled family, Beth walked deliberately
down the garden, through the hedge, and in at the Laurences' door.
"Well,
I wish I may die if it ain't the queerest thing I ever see! The pianny has
turned her head! She'd never have gone in her right mind," cried Hannah,
staring after her, while the girls were rendered quite speechless by the
miracle.
They
would have been still more amazed if they had seen what Beth did afterward. If
you will believe me, she went and knocked at the study door before she gave
herself time to think, and when a gruff voice called out, "come in!"
she did go in, right up to Mr. Laurence, who looked quite taken aback, and held
out her hand, saying, with only a small quaver in her voice, "I came to
thank you, sir, for..." But she didn't finish, for he looked so friendly
that she forgot her speech and, only remembering that he had lost the little
girl he loved, she put both arms round his neck and kissed him.
If
the roof of the house had suddenly flown off, the old gentleman wouldn't have
been more astonished. But he liked it. Oh, dear, yes, he liked it amazingly!
And was so touched and pleased by that confiding little kiss that all his
crustiness vanished, and he just set her on his knee, and laid his wrinkled
cheek against her rosy one, feeling as if he had got his own little grand
daughter back again. Beth ceased to fear him from that moment, and sat there
talking to him as cozily as if she had known him all her life, for love casts
out fear, and gratitude can conquer pride. When she went home, he walked with
her to her own gate, shook hands cordially, and touched his hat as he marched
back again, looking very stately and erect, like a handsome, soldierly old
gentleman, as he was.
When
the girls saw that performance, Jo began to dance a jig, by way of expressing
her satisfaction, Amy nearly fell out of the window in her surprise, and Meg
exclaimed, with up-lifted hands, "Well, I do believe the world is coming
to an end.