We wo n't be miserable , but enjoy being together while we wait . We 'll have happy times , for I do n't suffer much , and I think the tide will go out easily , if you help me . '' Jo leaned down to kiss the tranquil face , and with that silent kiss , she dedicated herself soul and body to Beth . She was right . There was no need of any words when they got home , for Father and Mother saw plainly now what they had prayed to be saved from seeing . Tired with her short journey , Beth went at once to bed , saying how glad she was to be home , and when Jo went down , she found that she would be spared the hard task of telling Beth 's secret . Her father stood leaning his head on the mantelpiece and did not turn as she came in , but her mother stretched out her arms as if for help , and Jo went to comfort her without a word . CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN NEW IMPRESSIONS At three o'clock in the afternoon , all the fashionable world at Nice may be seen on the Promenade des Anglais -- a charming place , for the wide walk , bordered with palms , flowers , and tropical shrubs , is bounded on one side by the sea , on the other by the grand drive , lined with hotels and villas , while beyond lie orange orchards and the hills . Many nations are represented , many languages spoken , many costumes worn , and on a sunny day the spectacle is as gay and brilliant as a carnival . Haughty English , lively French , sober Germans , handsome Spaniards , ugly Russians , meek Jews , free-and-easy Americans , all drive , sit , or saunter here , chatting over the news , and criticizing the latest celebrity who has arrived -- Ristori or Dickens , Victor Emmanuel or the Queen of the Sandwich Islands . The equipages are as varied as the company and attract as much attention , especially the low basket barouches in which ladies drive themselves , with a pair of dashing ponies , gay nets to keep their voluminous flounces from overflowing the diminutive vehicles , and little grooms on the perch behind . Along this walk , on Christmas Day , a tall young man walked slowly , with his hands behind him , and a somewhat absent expression of countenance . He looked like an Italian , was dressed like an Englishman , and had the independent air of an American -- a combination which caused sundry pairs of feminine eyes to look approvingly after him , and sundry dandies in black velvet suits , with rose-colored neckties , buff gloves , and orange flowers in their buttonholes , to shrug their shoulders , and then envy him his inches . There were plenty of pretty faces to admire , but the young man took little notice of them , except to glance now and then at some blonde girl in blue . Presently he strolled out of the promenade and stood a moment at the crossing , as if undecided whether to go and listen to the band in the Jardin Publique , or to wander along the beach toward Castle Hill . The quick trot of ponies ' feet made him look up , as one of the little carriages , containing a single young lady , came rapidly down the street . The lady was young , blonde , and dressed in blue . He stared a minute , then his whole face woke up , and , waving his hat like a boy , he hurried forward to meet her . `` Oh , Laurie , is it really you ? I thought you 'd never come ! ''
cried Amy , dropping the reins and holding out both hands , to the great scandalization of a XXXXX mamma , who hastened her daughter 's steps , lest she should be demoralized by beholding the free manners of these ` mad English ' .
Anglais Beth Emmanuel French Jews Laurie Ristori Russians equipages minute