Harvest Time

           ForayearJoandherProfessorworkedandwaited,hopedandloved,metoccasionally,andwrotesuchvoluminouslettersthattheriseinthepriceofpaperwasaccountedfor,Lauriesaid.Thesecondyearbeganrathersoberly,fortheirprospectsdidnotbrighten,andAuntMarchdiedsuddenly.Butwhentheirfirstsorrowwasover—fortheylovedtheoldladyinspiteofhersharptongue—theyfoundtheyhadcauseforrejoicing,forshehadleftPlumfieldtoJo,whichmadeallsortsofjoyfulthingspossible.

           "It’safineoldplace,andwillbringahandsomesum,forofcourseyouintendtosellit,"saidLaurie,astheywerealltalkingthematteroversomeweekslater.

           "No,Idon’t,"wasJo’sdecidedanswer,asshepettedthefatpoodle,whomshehadadopted,outofrespecttohisformermistress.

           "Youdon’tmeantolivethere?"

           "Yes,Ido."

           "But,mydeargirl,it’sanimmensehouse,andwilltakeapowerofmoneytokeepitinorder.Thegardenandorchardaloneneedtwoorthreemen,andfarmingisn’tinBhaer’sline,Itakeit."

           "He’lltryhishandatitthere,ifIproposeit."

           "Andyouexpecttoliveontheproduceoftheplace?Well,thatsoundsparadisiacal,butyou’llfinditdesperatehardwork."

           "Thecropwearegoingtoraiseisaprofitableone,"andJolaughed.