Chapter: VI. BETH FINDS THE PALACE BEAUTIFUL.


                    


The big house did prove a Palace Beautiful, though it took some time for
all to get in, and Beth found it very hard to pass the lions. Old Mr.
Laurence was the biggest one; but after he had called, said something
funny or kind to each one of the girls, and talked over old times with
their mother, nobody felt much afraid of him, except timid Beth. The
other lion was the fact that they were poor and Laurie rich; for this
made them shy of accepting favors which they could not return. But,
after a while, they found that he considered them the benefactors, and
could not do enough to show how grateful he was for Mrs. March's
motherly welcome, their cheerful society, and the comfort he took in
that humble home of theirs. So they soon forgot their pride, and
interchanged kindnesses without stopping to think which was the greater.

All sorts of pleasant things happened about that time; for the new
friendship flourished like grass in spring. Every one liked Laurie, and
he privately informed his tutor that "the Marches were regularly
splendid girls." With the delightful enthusiasm of youth, they took the
solitary boy into their midst, and made much of him, and he found
something very charming in the innocent companionship of these
simple-hearted girls. Never having known mother or sisters, he was quick
to feel the influences they brought about him; and their busy, lively
ways made him ashamed of the indolent life he led. He was tired of
books, and found people so interesting now that Mr. Brooke was obliged
to make very unsatisfactory reports; for Laurie was always playing
truant, and running over to the Marches.

"Never mind; let him take a holiday, and make it up afterwards," said
the old gentleman. "The good lady next door says he is studying too
hard, and needs young society, amusement, and exercise. I suspect she is
right, and that I've been coddling the fellow as if I'd been his
grandmother. Let him do what he likes, as long as he is happy. He can't
get into mischief in that little nunnery over there; and Mrs. March is
doing more for him than we can."

What good times they had, to be sure! Such plays and tableaux, such
sleigh-rides and skating frolics, such pleasant evenings in the old
parlor, and now and then such gay little parties at the great house. Meg
could walk in the conservatory whenever she liked, and revel in
bouquets; Jo browsed over the new library voraciously, and convulsed the
old gentleman with her criticisms; Amy copied pictures, and enjoyed
beauty to her heart's content; and Laurie played "lord of the manor" in
the most delightful style.

But Beth, though yearning for the grand piano, could not pluck up
courage to go to the "Mansion of Bliss," as Meg called it. She went once
with Jo; but the old gentleman, not being aware of her infirmity, stared
at her so hard from under his heavy eyebrows, and said "Hey!" so loud,
that he frightened her so much her "feet chattered on the floor," she
told her mother; and she ran away, declaring she would never go there
any more, not even for the dear piano. No persuasions or enticements
could overcome her fear, till, the fact coming to Mr. Laurence's ear in
some mysterious way, he set about mending matters. During one of the
brief calls he made, he artfully led the conversation to music, and
talked away about great singers whom he had seen, fine organs he had
heard, and told such charming anecdotes that Beth found it impossible to
stay in her distant corner, but crept nearer and nearer, as if
fascinated. At the back of his chair she stopped, and stood listening,
with her great eyes wide open, and her cheeks red with the excitement of
this unusual performance. Taking no more notice of her than if she had
been a fly, Mr. Laurence talked on about Laurie's lessons and teachers;
and presently, as if the idea had just occurred to him, he said to Mrs.
March,--

"The boy neglects his music now, and I'm glad of it, for he was getting
too fond of it. But the piano suffers for want of use. Wouldn't some of
your girls like to run over, and practise on it now and then, just to
keep it in tune, you know, ma'am?"

Beth took a step forward, and pressed her hands tightly together to keep
from clapping them, for this was an irresistible temptation; and the
thought of practising on that splendid instrument quite took her breath
away. Before Mrs. March could reply, Mr. Laurence went on with an odd
little nod and smile,--

"They needn't see or speak to any one, but run in at any time; for I'm
shut up in my study at the other end of the house, Laurie is out a great
deal, and the servants are never near the drawing-room after nine
o'clock."

Here he rose, as if going, and Beth made up her mind to speak, for that
last arrangement left nothing to be desired. "Please tell the young
ladies what I say; and if they don't care to come, why, never mind."
Here a little hand slipped into his, and Beth looked up at him with a
face full of gratitude, as she said, in her earnest yet timid way,--

"O sir, they do care, very, very much!"

             [Illustration: O sir, they do care very much]

"Are you the musical girl?" he asked, without any startling "Hey!" as he
looked down at her very kindly.

"I'm Beth. I love it dearly, and I'll come, if you are quite sure nobody
will hear me--and be disturbed," she added, fearing to be rude, and
trembling at her own boldness as she spoke.

"Not a soul, my dear. The house is empty half the day; so come, and drum
away as much as you like, and I shall be obliged to you."

"How kind you are, sir!"

Beth blushed like a rose under the friendly look he wore; but she was
not frightened now, and gave the big hand a grateful squeeze, because
she had no words to thank him for the precious gift he had given her.
The old gentleman softly stroked the hair off her forehead, and,
stooping down, he kissed her, saying, in a tone few people ever heard,--

"I had a little girl once, with eyes like these. God bless you, my dear!
Good day, madam;" and away he went, in a great hurry.

Beth had a rapture with her mother, and then rushed up to impart the
glorious news to her family of invalids, as the girls were not at home.
How blithely she sung that evening, and how they all laughed at her,
because she woke Amy in the night by playing the piano on her face in
her sleep. Next day, having seen both the old and young gentleman out of
the house, Beth, after two or three retreats, fairly got in at the
side-door, and made her way, as noiselessly as any mouse, to the
drawing-room, where her idol stood. Quite by accident, of course, some
pretty, easy music lay on the piano; and, with trembling fingers, and
frequent stops to listen and look about, Beth at last touched the great
instrument, and straightway forgot her fear, herself, and everything
else but the unspeakable delight which the music gave her, for it was
like the voice of a beloved friend.

She stayed till Hannah came to take her home to dinner; but she had no
appetite, and could only sit and smile upon every one in a general state
of beatitude.

After that, the little brown hood slipped through the hedge nearly every
day, and the great drawing-room was haunted by a tuneful spirit that
came and went unseen. She never knew that Mr. Laurence often opened his
study-door to hear the old-fashioned airs he liked; she never saw Laurie
mount guard in the hall to warn the servants away; she never suspected
that the exercise-books and new songs which she found in the rack were
put there for her especial benefit; and when he talked to her about
music at home, she only thought how kind he was to tell things that
helped her so much. So she enjoyed herself heartily, and found, what
isn't always the case, that her granted wish was all she had hoped.
Perhaps it was because she was so grateful for this blessing that a
greater was given her; at any rate, she deserved both.

        [Illustration: Mr. Laurence often opened his study door]

"Mother, I'm going to work Mr. Laurence a pair of slippers. He is so
kind to me, I must thank him, and I don't know any other way. Can I do
it?" asked Beth, a few weeks after that eventful call of his.

"Yes, dear. It will please him very much, and be a nice way of thanking
him. The girls will help you about them, and I will pay for the making
up," replied Mrs. March, who took peculiar pleasure in granting Beth's
requests, because she so seldom asked anything for herself.

After many serious discussions with Meg and Jo, the pattern was chosen,
the materials bought, and the slippers begun. A cluster of grave yet
cheerful pansies, on a deeper purple ground, was pronounced very
appropriate and pretty; and Beth worked away early and late, with
occasional lifts over hard parts. She was a nimble little needle-woman,
and they were finished before any one got tired of them. Then she wrote
a very short, simple note, and, with Laurie's help, got them smuggled on
to the study-table one morning before the old gentleman was up.

When this excitement was over, Beth waited to see what would happen. All
that day passed, and a part of the next, before any acknowledgment
arrived, and she was beginning to fear she had offended her crotchety
friend. On the afternoon of the second day, she went out to do an
errand, and give poor Joanna, the invalid doll, her daily exercise. As
she came up the street, on her return, she saw three, yes, four, heads
popping in and out of the parlor windows, and the moment they saw her,
several hands were waved, and several joyful voices screamed,--

"Here's a letter from the old gentleman! Come quick, and read it!"

"O Beth, he's sent you--" began Amy, gesticulating with unseemly energy;
but she got no further, for Jo quenched her by slamming down the window.

Beth hurried on in a flutter of suspense. At the door, her sisters
seized and bore her to the parlor in a triumphal procession, all
pointing, and all saying at once, "Look there! look there!" Beth did
look, and turned pale with delight and surprise; for there stood a
little cabinet-piano, with a letter lying on the glossy lid, directed,
like a sign-board, to "Miss Elizabeth March."

"For me?" gasped Beth, holding on to Jo, and feeling as if she should
tumble down, it was such an overwhelming thing altogether.

"Yes; all for you, my precious! Isn't it splendid of him? Don't you
think he's the dearest old man in the world? Here's the key in the
letter. We didn't open it, but we are dying to know what he says," cried
Jo, hugging her sister, and offering the note.

"You read it! I can't, I feel so queer! Oh, it is too lovely!" and Beth
hid her face in Jo's apron, quite upset by her present.

Jo opened the paper, and began to laugh, for the first words she saw
were,--

    "MISS MARCH:

        "_Dear Madam_,--"

"How nice it sounds! I wish some one would write to me so!" said Amy,
who thought the old-fashioned address very elegant.

    "'I have had many pairs of slippers in my life, but I never had
    any that suited me so well as yours,'" continued Jo.
    "'Heart's-ease is my favorite flower, and these will always
    remind me of the gentle giver. I like to pay my debts; so I
    know you will allow "the old gentleman" to send you something
    which once belonged to the little granddaughter he lost. With
    hearty thanks and best wishes, I remain,

    "'Your grateful friend and humble servant,

                                        "'JAMES LAURENCE.'"

"There, Beth, that's an honor to be proud of, I'm sure! Laurie told me
how fond Mr. Laurence used to be of the child who died, and how he kept
all her little things carefully. Just think, he's given you her piano.
That comes of having big blue eyes and loving music," said Jo, trying to
soothe Beth, who trembled, and looked more excited than she had ever
been before.

"See the cunning brackets to hold candles, and the nice green silk,
puckered up, with a gold rose in the middle, and the pretty rack and
stool, all complete," added Meg, opening the instrument and displaying
its beauties.

"'Your humble servant, James Laurence'; only think of his writing that
to you. I'll tell the girls. They'll think it's splendid," said Amy,
much impressed by the note.

"Try it, honey. Let's hear the sound of the baby-pianny," said Hannah,
who always took a share in the family joys and sorrows.

So Beth tried it; and every one pronounced it the most remarkable piano
ever heard. It had evidently been newly tuned and put in apple-pie
order; but, perfect as it was, I think the real charm of it lay in the
happiest of all happy faces which leaned over it, as Beth lovingly
touched the beautiful black and white keys and pressed the bright
pedals.

"You'll have to go and thank him," said Jo, by way of a joke; for the
idea of the child's really going never entered her head.

"Yes, I mean to. I guess I'll go now, before I get frightened thinking
about it." And, to the utter amazement of the assembled family, Beth
walked deliberately down the garden, through the hedge, and in at the
Laurences' door.

"Well, I wish I may die if it ain't the queerest thing I ever see! The
pianny has turned her head! She'd never have gone in her right mind,"
cried Hannah, staring after her, while the girls were rendered quite
speechless by the miracle.

They would have been still more amazed if they had seen what Beth did
afterward. If you will believe me, she went and knocked at the
study-door before she gave herself time to think; and when a gruff voice
called out, "Come in!" she did go in, right up to Mr. Laurence, who
looked quite taken aback, and held out her hand, saying, with only a
small quaver in her voice, "I came to thank you, sir, for--" But she
didn't finish; for he looked so friendly that she forgot her speech,
and, only remembering that he had lost the little girl he loved, she put
both arms round his neck, and kissed him.

    [Illustration: She put both arms around his neck and kissed him]

If the roof of the house had suddenly flown off, the old gentleman
wouldn't have been more astonished; but he liked it,--oh, dear, yes, he
liked it amazingly!--and was so touched and pleased by that confiding
little kiss that all his crustiness vanished; and he just set her on his
knee, and laid his wrinkled cheek against her rosy one, feeling as if he
had got his own little granddaughter back again. Beth ceased to fear him
from that moment, and sat there talking to him as cosily as if she had
known him all her life; for love casts out fear, and gratitude can
conquer pride. When she went home, he walked with her to her own gate,
shook hands cordially, and touched his hat as he marched back again,
looking very stately and erect, like a handsome, soldierly old
gentleman, as he was.

When the girls saw that performance, Jo began to dance a jig, by way of
expressing her satisfaction; Amy nearly fell out of the window in her
surprise; and Meg exclaimed, with uplifted hands, "Well, I do believe
the world is coming to an end!"

 Beth Finds the Palace Beautiful One of the lions to get past before the Marches can enjoy the Palace Beautiful is their awkwardness because they are poor and the Laurences are wealthy. However, they soon learn that Laurie feels himself the benefactor, and they accept the mutual benefit. The March family's philosophy and hard work influences Laurie, and everyone enjoys the Laurence home except Beth, who cannot overcome her fear of the gruff Mr. Laurence. Mr. Laurence hears of this, and asks Mrs. March, so Beth can hear, if one of the girls could come over and play the piano to keep it in tune. Beth approaches him, and Mr. Laurence kindly tells her she reminds him of his own granddaughter. The next day Beth gathers her courage to go to the big house, where she finds easy music on the piano, and then returns daily. To thank Mr. Laurence, Beth makes him a pair of slippers. In return, Mr. Laurence surprises Beth by giving her the cabinet piano that his granddaughter used to play. Beth is so moved that she decides to go thank Mr. Laurence in person, before she becomes too afraid. Mr. Laurence pulls her onto his knee and, remembering his lost granddaughter, Beth kisses him, and the two become fast friends

