Daisy and Demi were the apple of everyone's eye as they charmed whoever caught sight of them.
Meg brought over the babies almost every day, knowing that their adorable faces would bring smiles to a mourning household.
"Our Daisy is a stubborn one," John said proudly to Mother and Father.
"If her brother comes near her space, she kicks and screams until he moves away."
"Sounds like our Jo when she was a baby," Mother said with a wink.
Everyone laughed at the resemblance. It was true the twins could not have been more opposite in temperament.
Demi, the boy, was mild, quiet, and obedient, while Daisy threw tantrums until she got her way.
But both babies looked like perfect angels when they slept in their father's arms.
"Brings back memories, doesn't it, dear?" Father said tenderly, putting his arm around his wife.
Jo watched as Meg placed a loving hand on her husband's arm and leaned her head on his shoulder, while their babies slept peacefully.
Instead of being moved by seeing such a loving family, it made Jo feel tremendously lonely and sad.
Making her excuses, she went upstairs, got her notebook, and walked out to the pond.
It was no fault of theirs, but Jo felt distanced from her parents, from Meg and John, and also from Amy and Laurie, knowing they were seeing Europe together.
It wasn't jealousy, but Jo felt as though everyone had someone special to spend time with except for her.
"This is ridiculous," she said to her reflection in the water.
"I've done well on my own till now.
Why should I start feeling sorry for myself?"
No matter how many times she told herself that, however, Jo still felt the empty space in her heart gradually growing bigger.
Sighing loudly, she opened the notebook the Professor had given her and began writing,
escaping into the world of make-believe where no one suffered loneliness.
In Florence, Amy sat on the balcony of the villa, silent tears falling onto her beautiful dress.
In her hand was the telegram from home telling her of Beth's passing.
She had known that Beth was ill and that eventually this day would come, but Amy thought she would be with her family when it happened.
Now she felt as if she had betrayed Beth for not being with her during the last months of her life on earth.
"I'm so selfish for being here. I should be with my family," she cried to Aunt March when she first received the telegram.
"Beth wished for you to stay here, so you shall.
We must let go of the dying and hold fast to life and live," Aunt March said bluntly.
Clearly, if Amy wanted any comfort, she wasn't going to get it from Aunt March.
For days Amy did not eat, speak, or do anything but sit on the balcony and cry.
One day while she was doing just that, clinging to the piece of paper from home as if it was her only link to her family, she prayed for Beth.
When Amy opened her eyes, she couldn't believe who was walking toward the villa.
"Laurie?" she cried in a little girl's voice.
Amy could see Laurie's distressed face looking up at her and she knew he had also heard about Beth.
She ran downstairs and flung herself into his arms as soon as she opened the door.
They stood there like that, holding each other and crying together.
"I'm so sorry, Amy," Laurie kept whispering. "We all loved her very much."
Nodding but unable to answer, Amy kept crying, yet she found a calming comfort in Laurie's arms.
On a rainy afternoon too miserable to venture outside to the pond where Jo had been doing most of her recent writing,
she decided, for some odd reason, to pay a visit to Mr. Laurence.
Without question Beth had been his favorite girl, so her death had affected Mr. Laurence deeply.
Because he wasn't family, however, Jo failed to realize just how much the old man must have been missing her.
She thought it was a good time to see how Mr. Laurence was coping.
"Jo! What a pleasant surprise, my dear," he said happily when he saw who had come to visit.
Jo had baked some oatmeal cookies, which she handed over with a smile.
"I'm sorry I haven't been here sooner," she apologized.
Holding up his hand, Mr. Laurence stopped her, saying, "Jo, under the circumstances, it's understandable.
But I expect you to come and visit this lonely old man at least once a day from now on."
"I will, and since I'm a lonely old woman we can be lonely together," she said miserably.
"Splendid!" Mr. Laurence roared as if he hadn't laughed out loud in a while.
They talked about the babies, Amy and Laurie, and other things. Then Mr. Laurence said something very interesting.
"You know, Jo, I'd like to do something to commemorate Beth's life," he said.
"What were you thinking of?" asked Jo.
"Some kind of place that would bring good to the community, just as Beth always did kind acts for others," he explained.
"What do you think Beth would like?"
Jo thought for a moment, then said, "Well, Beth always loved children, so perhaps something for little ones?"
Mr. Laurence stood up and began pacing the room.
He said, "Yes, yes, a school for children would be a fine idea. A piano school?"
Jo nodded in agreement and said, "Beth loved music so that would be a wonderful memorial to her."
Mr. Laurence stopped suddenly and said, "True, but Beth would want children to learn so much more.
Jo! What about a school that teaches academics and arts such as piano or painting?"
Jo sat up straight, remembering someone else who wanted to start a school.
"Mr. Laurence, if you do open a school in Beth's name, I already know the perfect person to be the headmaster," she said excitedly.
Grabbing her hands tightly, Mr. Laurence said emotionally, "Let's make this work, Jo. Let's do this for Beth."
Letting go of his hands and giving him a tight hug instead, Jo cried, "Thank you, Mr. Laurence.
This means so much to us, and Beth would be so proud if she knew what you were doing for her."
That evening, Jo wrote a long, detailed letter to the Professor,
telling all that had happened in the past few months and ending with Mr. Laurence's proposal.
"If you are interested in this position, you may wish to make a trip here and meet Mr. Laurence in person to discuss the details further," she wrote.
Placing the letter in an envelope and sealing it, Jo said, "Now, we'll just have to wait and see what happens."
Just a few days later, that same envelope was handed over to the Professor, who read the letter with much interest.
"Hmm, this sounds very promising indeed and highly tempting.
I must find out about a coach ticket."