A weight seemed off his mind; and though the old impetuous spiritflashed out at times, he seemed intent on trying to show hisgratitude and love and honour to these true friends by a new humilityand confidence very sweet to them, very helpful to him. Afterhearing the story from Mrs Jo, the Professor and Mr Laurie made noallusion to it beyond the hearty hand-grasp, the look of compassion,the brief word of good cheer in which men convey sympathy, and aredoubled kindness which left no doubt of pardon. Mr Laurie began atonce to interest influential persons in Dan's mission, and set inmotion the machinery which needs so much oiling before anything canbe done where Government is concerned. Mr Bhaer, with the skill of atrue teacher, gave Dan's hungry mind something to do, and helped himunderstand himself by carrying on the good chaplain's task sopaternally that the poor fellow often said he felt as if he had founda father. The boys took him to drive, and amused him with theirpranks and plans; while the women, old and young, nursed and pettedhim till he felt like a sultan with a crowd of devoted slaves,obedient to his lightest wish. A very little of this was enough forDan, who had a masculine horror of 'molly-coddling', and so brief anacquaintance with illness that he rebelled against the doctor'sorders to keep quiet; and it took all Mrs Jo's authority and thegirls' ingenuity to keep him from leaving his sofa long beforestrained back and wounded head were well. Daisy cooked for him; Nanattended to his medicines; Josie read aloud to while away the longhours of inaction that hung so heavily on his hands; while Bessbrought all her pictures and casts to amuse him, and, at his specialdesire, set up a modelling-stand in his parlour and began to mouldthe buffalo head he gave her. Those afternoons seemed the pleasantestpart of his day; and Mrs Jo, busy in her study close by, could seethe friendly trio and enjoy the pretty pictures they made. The girlswere much flattered by the success of their efforts, and exertedthemselves to be very entertaining, consulting Dan's moods with thefeminine tact most women creatures learn before they are out ofpinafores. When he was gay, the room rang with laughter; when gloomy,they read or worked in respectful silence till their sweet patiencecheered him up again; and when in pain they hovered over him like 'acouple of angels', as he said. He often called Josie 'little mother',but Bess was always 'Princess'; and his manner to the two cousins wasquite different. Josie sometimes fretted him with her fussy ways, thelong plays she liked to read, and the maternal scoldings sheadministered when he broke the rules; for having a lord of creationin her power was so delightful to her that she would have ruled himwith a rod of iron if he had submitted. To Bess, in her gentlerministrations, he never showed either impatience or weariness, butobeyed her least word, exerted himself to seem well in her presence,and took such interest in her work that he lay looking at her withunwearied eyes; while Josie read to him in her best style unheeded.

 

　　Mrs Jo observed this, and called them 'Una and the Lion', whichsuited them very well, though the lion's mane was shorn, and Unanever tried to bridle him. The elder ladies did their part inproviding delicacies and supplying all his wants; but Mrs Meg wasbusy at home, Mrs Amy preparing for the trip to Europe in the spring,and Mrs Jo hovering on the brink of a 'vortex'--for the forthcomingbook had been sadly delayed by the late domestic events. As she satat her desk, settling papers or meditatively nibbling her pen whilewaiting for the divine afflatus to descend upon her, she often forgother fictitious heroes and heroines in studying the live models beforeher, and thus by chance looks, words, and gestures discovered alittle romance unsuspected by anyone else.

 

　　The portiere between the rooms was usually drawn aside, giving a viewof the group in the large bay-window--Bess at one side, in her greyblouse, busy with her tools; Josie at the other side with her book;and between, on the long couch, propped with many cushions, lay Danin a many-hued eastern dressing-gown presented by Mr Laurie and wornto please the girls, though the invalid much preferred an old jacket'with no confounded tail to bother over'. He faced Mrs Jo's room, butnever seemed to see her, for his eyes were on the slender figurebefore him, with the pale winter sunshine touching her golden head,and the delicate hands that shaped the clay so deftly. Josie was justvisible, rocking violently in a little chair at the head of thecouch, and the steady murmur of her girlish voice was usually theonly sound that broke the quiet of the room, unless a suddendiscussion arose about the book or the buffalo.

 

　　Something in the big eyes, bigger and blacker than ever in the thinwhite face, fixed, so steadily on one object, had a sort offascination for Mrs Jo after a time, and she watched the changes inthem curiously; for Dan's mind was evidently not on the story, and heoften forgot to laugh or exclaim at the comic or exciting crises.

 

　　Sometimes they were soft and wistful, and the watcher was very gladthat neither damsel caught that dangerous look for when they spoke itvanished; sometimes it was full of eager fire, and the colour cameand went rebelliously, in spite of his attempt to hide it with animpatient gesture of hand or head; but oftenest it was dark, and sad,and stern, as if those gloomy eyes looked out of captivity at someforbidden light or joy. This expression came so often that it worriedMrs Jo, and she longed to go and ask him what bitter memoryovershadowed those quiet hours. She knew that his crime and itspunishment must lie heavy on his mind; but youth, and time, and newhopes would bring comfort, and help to wear away the first sharpnessof the prison brand. It lifted at other times, and seemed almostforgotten when he joked with the boys, talked with old friends, orenjoyed the first snows as he drove out every fair day. Why shouldthe shadow always fall so darkly on him in the society of theseinnocent and friendly girls? They never seemed to see it, and ifeither looked or spoke, a quick smile came like a sunburst throughthe clouds to answer them. So Mrs Jo went on watching, wondering, anddiscovering, till accident confirmed her fears.

 

　　Josie was called away one day, and Bess, tired of working, offered totake her place if he cared for more reading.

 

　　'I do; your reading suits me better than Jo's. She goes so fast mystupid head gets in a muddle and soon begins to ache. Don't tell her;she's a dear little soul, and so good to sit here with a bear likeme.'

 

　　The smile was ready as Bess went to the table for a new book, thelast story being finished.

 

　　'You are not a bear, but very good and patient, we think. It isalways hard for a man to be shut up, mamma says, and must be terriblefor you, who have always been so free.'

 

　　If Bess had not been reading titles she would have seen Dan shrink asif her last words hurt him. He made no answer; but other eyes saw andunderstood why he looked as if he would have liked to spring up andrush away for one of his long races up the hill, as he used to dowhen the longing for liberty grew uncontrollable. Moved by a suddenimpulse, Mrs Jo caught up her work-basket and went to join herneighbours, feeling that a non-conductor might be needed; for Danlooked like a thundercloud full of electricity.

 

　　'What shall we read, Aunty? Dan doesn't seem to care. You know histaste; tell me something quiet and pleasant and short. Josie will beback soon,' said Bess, still turning over the books piled on thecentre-table.

 

　　Before Mrs Jo could answer, Dan pulled a shabby little volume fromunder his pillow, and handing it to her said: 'Please read the thirdone; it's short and pretty--I'm fond of it.' The book opened at theright place, as if the third story had been often read, and Besssmiled as she saw the name.

 

　　'Why, Dan, I shouldn't think you'd care for this romantic Germantale. There is fighting in it; but it is very sentimental, if Iremember rightly.'

 

　　'I know it; but I've read so few stories, I like the simple onesbest. Had nothing else to read sometimes; I guess I know it all byheart, and never seem to be tired of those fighting fellows, and thefiends and angels and lovely ladies. You read "Aslauga's Knight", andsee if you don't like it. Edwald was rather too soft for my fancy;but Froda was first-rate and the spirit with the golden hair alwaysreminded me of you.'

 

　　As Dan spoke Mrs Jo settled herself where she could watch him in theglass, and Bess took a large chair facing him, saying, as she put upher hands to retie the ribbon that held the cluster of thick, softcurls at the back of her head:

 

　　'I hope Aslauga's hair wasn't as troublesome as mine, for it's alwaystumbling down. I'll be ready in a minute.'

 

　　'Don't tie it up; please let it hang. I love to see it shine that way.

 

　　It will rest your head, and be just right for the story, Goldilocks,'

 

　　pleaded Dan, using the childish name and looking more like his boyishself than he had done for many a day.

 

　　Bess laughed, shook down her pretty hair, and began to read, glad tohide her face a little; for compliments made her shy, no matter whopaid them. Dan listened intently on; and Mrs Jo, with eyes that wentoften from her needle to the glass, could see, without turning, howhe enjoyed every word as if it had more meaning for him than for theother listeners. His face brightened wonderfully, and soon wore thelook that came when anything brave or beautiful inspired and touchedhis better self. It was Fouque's charming story of the knight Froda,and the fair daughter of Sigurd, who was a sort of spirit, appearingto her lover in hours of danger and trial, as well as triumph andjoy, till she became his guide and guard, inspiring him with courage,nobleness, and truth, leading him to great deeds in the field,sacrifices for those he loved, and victories over himself by thegleaming of her golden hair, which shone on him in battle, dreams,and perils by day and night, till after death he finds the lovelyspirit waiting to receive and to reward him.

 

　　Of all the stories in the book this was the last one would havesupposed Dan would like best, and even Mrs Jo was surprised at hisperceiving the moral of the tale through the delicate imagery andromantic language by which it was illustrated. But as she looked andlistened she remembered the streak of sentiment and refinement whichlay concealed in Dan like the gold vein in a rock, making him quickto feel and to enjoy fine colour in a flower, grace in an animal,sweetness in women, heroism in men, and all the tender ties that bindheart to heart; though he was slow to show it, having no words toexpress the tastes and instincts which he inherited from his mother.

 

　　Suffering of soul and body had tamed his stronger passions, and theatmosphere of love and pity now surrounding him purified and warmedhis heart till it began to hunger for the food neglected or denied solong. This was plainly written in his too expressive face, as,fancying it unseen, he let it tell the longing after beauty, peace,and happiness embodied for him in the innocent fair girl before him.

 

　　The conviction of this sad yet natural fact came to Mrs Jo with apang, for she felt how utterly hopeless such a longing was; sincelig............