feminine interest and curiosity, for she could not realize it a particle.
"Six weeks ago, at the American consul's, in Paris—a very quiet wedding, of course; for even in our happiness we didn't forget dear little Beth."
Jo put her hand in his as he said that, and Laurie gently smoothed the little red pillow, which he remembered well.
"Why didn't you let us know afterward?" asked Jo, in a quieter tone, when they had sat quite still a minute.
"We wanted to surprise you; we thought we were coming directly home, at first, but the dear old gentleman, as soon as we were married, found he couldn't be ready under a month, at least, and sent us off to spend our honey-moon wherever we liked. Amy had once called Valrosa a regular honey-moon home, so we went there, and were as happy as people are but once in their lives. My faith, wasn't it love among the roses!"
Laurie seemed to forget Jo, for a minute, and Jo was glad of it; for the fact that he told her these things so freely and naturally, assured her that he had quite forgiven and forgotten. She tried to draw away her hand; but, as if he guessed the thought that prompted the half-involuntary impulse, Laurie held it fast, and said, with a manly gravity she had never seen in him before,—
"Jo, dear, I want to say one thing, and then we'll put it by forever. As I told you, in my letter, when I wrote that Amy had been so kind to me, I never shall stop loving you; but the love is altered, and I have learned to see that it is better as it is. Amy and