“Yes, a nice long letter. He is well, and thinks he shall get through the cold season better than we feared. He sends all sorts of loving wishes for Christmas, and an especial message to you girls,” said Mrs. March, patting her pocket as if she had got a treasure there.

“Hurry and get done! Don’t stop to quirk your little finger, and simper over your plate, Amy,” cried Jo, choking in her tea, and dropping her bread, butter side down, on the carpet, in her haste to get at the treat.

Beth ate no more, but crept away, to sit in her shadowy corner and brood over the delight to come, till the others were ready.

“I think it was so splendid in father to go as a chaplain when he was too old to be drafted, and not strong enough for a soldier,” said Meg warmly.