“They are very pretty, but I think you’re rather too young for such ornaments, Amy,” said Mrs. March, looking at the plump little hand, with the band of sky-blue stones on the forefinger, and the quaint guard, formed of two tiny, golden hands clasped together.

“I’ll try not to be vain,” said Amy. “I don’t think I like it only because it’s so pretty; but I want to wear it as the girl in the story wore her bracelet, to remind me of something.”

“Do you mean Aunt March?” asked her mother, laughing.

“No, to remind me not to be selfish.” Amy looked so earnest and sincere about it, that her mother stopped laughing, and listened respectfully to the little plan.