PART 2
47. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
(continued)
"I say, Jo, that's rather too much," he began, just in his
old boyish way. "You have all done more for me than I can ever
thank you for, except by doing my best not to disapoint you. You
have rather cast me off lately, Jo, but I've had the best of help,
nevertheless. So, if I've got on at all, you may thank these two
for it." And he laid one hand gently on his grandfather's head,
and the other on Amy's golden one, for the three were never far
apart.
"I do think that families are the most beautiful things in
all the world!" burst out Jo, who was in an unusually up-lifted
frame of mind just then. "When I have one of my own, I hope it
will be as happy as the three I know and love the best. If John
and my Fritz were only here, it would be quite a little heaven
on earth," she added more quietly. And that night when she went
to her room after a blissful evening of family counsels, hopes,
and plans, her heart was so full of happiness that she could only
calm it by kneeling beside the empty bed always near her own, and
thinking tender thoughts of Beth.
It was a very astonishing year altogether, for things seemed
to happen in an unusually rapid and delightful manner. Almost
before she knew where she was, Jo found herself married and settled
at Plumfield. Then a family of six or seven boys sprung up
like mushrooms, and flourished surprisingly, poor boys as well as
rich, for Mr. Laurence was continually finding some touching case
of destitution, and begging the Bhaers to take pity on the child,
and he would gladly pay a trifle for its support. In this way,
the sly old gentleman got round proud Jo, and furnished her with
the style of boy in which she most delighted.
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