Everything was done at last, even to Amy’s arranging different colored soaps to match the different colored rooms, and Beth’s setting the table for the first meal.
“Are you satisfied? Does it seem like home, and do you feel as if you should be happy here?” asked Mrs. March, as she and her daughter went through the new kingdom arm in arm, for just then they seemed to cling together more tenderly than ever.
“Yes, Mother, perfectly satisfied, thanks to you all, and
“If she only had a servant or two it would be all right,” said Amy, coming out of the parlor, where she had been trying to decide whether the bronze Mercury[127] looked best on the whatnot[128] or the mantelpiece.
“Mother and I have talked that over, and I have made up my mind to try her way first. There will be so little to do that with Lotty to run my errands and help me here and there, I shall only have enough work to keep me from getting lazy or homesick,” answered Meg tranquilly.
“Sallie Moffat has four,” began Amy.
“If Meg had four the house wouldn’t hold them, and master and missis would have to camp in the garden,” broke in Jo, who, enveloped in a big blue pinafore,[129] was giving the last polish to the door handles.
“Sallie isn’t a poor man’s wife, and many maids are in keeping with her fine establishment. Meg and John begin humbly, but I have a feeling that there will be quite as much happiness in the little house as in the big one. It’s a great mistake for young girls like Meg to leave themselves nothing to do but dress, give orders, and gossip. When I was first married, I used to long for my new clothes to wear out or get torn, so that I might have the pleasure of mending them, for I got heartily sick of doing fancywork and tending my pocket handkerchief.”
“Why didn’t you go into the kitchen and make messes, as Sallie says she does to amuse herself, though they never turn out well and the servants laugh at her,” said Meg.
“I did after a while, not to ‘mess,’ but to learn of Hannah how things should be done, that my servants need
“Yes, Mother, I’m sure of that,” said Meg, listening respectfully to the little lecture, for the best of women will hold forth upon the all-absorbing subject of housekeeping. “Do you know I like this room most of all in my baby house,” added Meg, a minute after, as they went upstairs and she looked into her well-stored linen closet.
Beth was there, laying the snowy piles smoothly on the shelves and exulting over the goodly array. All three laughed as Meg spoke, for that linen closet was a joke. You see, having said that if Meg married “that Brooke” she shouldn’t have a cent of her money, Aunt March was rather in a quandary when time had appeased her wrath and made her repent her vow. She never broke her word, and was much exercised in her mind how to get round it, and at last devised a plan whereby she could satisfy herself. Mrs. Carrol, Florence’s mamma, was ordered to buy, have made, and marked a generous supply of house and table linen, and send it as her present, all of which was faithfully done; but the secret leaked out, and was greatly enjoyed by the family, for Aunt March tried to look utterly unconscious, and insisted that she could give nothing but the old-fashioned pearls long promised to the first bride.
“That’s a housewifely taste which I am glad to see. I had a young friend who set up housekeeping with six sheets, but she had finger bowls for company and that satisfied her,” said Mrs. March, patting the damask[130] tablecloths, with a truly feminine appreciation of their fineness.
“I haven’t a single finger bowl, but this is a setout that will last me all my days, Hannah says.” And Meg looked quite contented, as well she might.
“Toodles is coming,” cried Jo from below, and they all went down to meet Laurie, whose weekly visit was an important event in their quiet lives.
A tall, broad-shouldered young fellow, with a cropped head, a felt basin of a hat, and a flyaway coat[131] came tramping down the road at a great pace, walked over the low fence without stopping to open the gate, straight up to Mrs. March, with both hands out and a hearty –
“Here I am, Mother! Yes, it’s all right.”
The last words were in answer to the look the elder lady gave him, a kindly questioning look which the handsome eyes met so frankly that the little ceremony closed, as usual, with a motherly kiss.
