Little women

CHAPTER SIXTEEN LETTERS

In the cold gray dawn the sisters lit their lamp and read their chapterwith an earnestness never felt before. For now the shadow of a real troublehad come, the little books were full of help and comfort, and as theydressed, they agreed to say goodbye cheerfully and hopefully, and sendtheir mother on her anxious journey unsaddened by tears or complaintsfrom them. Everything seemed very strange when they went down, so dimand still outside, so full of light and bustle within. Breakfast at that earlyhour seemed odd, and even Hannah's familiar face looked unnatural as sheflew about her kitchen with her nightcap on. The big trunk stood ready inthe hall, Mother's cloak and bonnet lay on the sofa, and Mother herself sattrying to eat, but looking so pale and worn with sleeplessness and anxietythat the girls found it very hard to keep their resolution. Meg's eyes keptfilling in spite of herself, Jo was obliged to hide her face in the kitchenroller more than once, and the little girls wore a grave, troubledexpression, as if sorrow was a new experience to them. 

Nobody talked much, but as the time drew very near and they satwaiting for the carriage, Mrs. March said to the girls, who were all busiedabout her, one folding her shawl, another smoothing out the strings of herbonnet, a third putting on her overshoes, and a fourth fastening up hertravelling 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 ifyou were his own. I have no fears for you, yet I am anxious that youshould take this trouble rightly. Don't grieve and fret when I am gone, orthink that you can be idle and comfort yourselves by being idle and tryingto 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 canbe fatherless." 

"Yes, Mother." 

"Meg, dear, be prudent, watch over your sisters, consult Hannah, and inany perplexity, go to Mr. Laurence. Be patient, Jo, don't get despondent ordo rash things, write to me often, and be my brave girl, ready to help andcheer all. Beth, comfort yourself with your music, and be faithful to thelittle home duties, and you, Amy, help all you can, be obedient, and keephappy 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 oneran away or uttered a lamentation, though their hearts were very heavy asthey sent loving messages to Father, remembering, as they spoke that itmight be too late to deliver them. They kissed their mother quietly, clungabout her tenderly, and tried to wave their hands cheerfully when she droveaway. 

Laurie and his grandfather came over to see her off, and Mr. Brookelooked so strong and sensible and kind that the girls christened him 'Mr.Greatheart' on the spot. 

"Good-by, my darlings! God bless and keep us all!" whispered Mrs.March, as she kissed one dear little face after the other, and hurried intothe carriage. 

As she rolled away, the sun came out, and looking back, she saw itshining on the group at the gate like a good omen. They saw it also, andsmiled and waved their hands, and the last thing she beheld as she turnedthe corner was the four bright faces, and behind them like a bodyguard, oldMr. Laurence, faithful Hannah, and devoted Laurie.

"How kind everyone is to us!" she said, turning to find fresh proof of itin the respectful sympathy of the young man's face. 

"I don't see how they can help it," returned Mr. Brooke, laughing soinfectiously that Mrs. March could not help smiling. And so the journeybegan with the good omens of sunshine, smiles, and cheerful words. 

"I feel as if there had been an earthquake," said Jo, as their neighborswent home to breakfast, leaving them to rest and refresh themselves. 

"It seems as if half the house was gone," added Meg forlornly.