carefully tied up her shoe as she spoke, so that no one saw her face.
"Why don't you say you'd have a splendid, wise, good husband, and some angelic little children? you know your castle wouldn't be perfect without," said blunt Jo, who had no tender fancies yet, and rather scorned romance, except in books.
"You'd have nothing but horses, inkstands, and novels in yours," answered Meg, petulantly.
"Wouldn't I, though! I'd have a stable full of Arabian steeds, rooms piled with books, and I'd write out of a magic inkstand, so that my works should be as famous as Laurie's music. I want to do something splendid before I go into my castle,—something heroic, or wonderful,—that won't be forgotten after I'm dead. I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it, and mean to astonish you all, some day. I think I shall write books, and get rich and famous; that would suit me, so that is my favorite dream."
"Mine is to stay at home safe with father and mother, and help take care of the family," said Beth, contentedly.
"Don't you wish for anything else?" asked Laurie.
"Since I had my little piano I am perfectly satisfied. I only wish we may all keep well, and be together; nothing else."
"I have lots of wishes; but the pet one is to be an artist, and go to Rome, and do fine pictures, and be the best artist in the whole world," was Amy's modest desire.
"We're an ambitious set, aren't we? Every one of us, but Beth, wants to be rich and famous, and
14
