第64章

“I’lltry，Beth。“AndthenandthereJorenouncedheroldambition，pledgedherselftoanewandbetterone，acknowledgingthepovertyofotherdesires，andfeelingtheblessedsolaceofabeliefintheimmortalityoflove。

Sothespringdayscameandwent，theskygrewclearer，theearthgreener，theflowerswereupfairlyearly，andthebirdscamebackintimetosaygoodbyetoBeth，who，likeatiredbuttrustfulchild，clungtothehandsthathadledherallherlife，asFatherandMotherguidedhertenderlythroughtheValleyoftheShadow，andgaveheruptoGod。

Seldomexceptinbooksdothedyinguttermemorablewords，seevisions，ordepartwithbeatifiedcountenances，andthosewhohavespedmanypartingsoulsknowthattomosttheendcomesasnaturallyandsimplyassleep。AsBethhadhoped，the`tidewentouteasily’，andinthedarkhourbeforedawn，onthebosomwhereshehaddrawnherfirstbreath，shequietlydrewherlast，withnofarewellbutonelovinglook，onelittlesigh。

Withtearsandprayersandtenderhands，Motherandsistersmadeherreadyforthelongsleepthatpainwouldnevermaragain，seeingwithgratefuleyesthebeautifulserenitythatsoonreplacedthepatheticpatiencethathadwrungtheirheartssolong，andfeelingwithreverentjoythattotheirdarlingdeathwasabenignantangel，notaphantomfullofdread。

Whenmorningcame，forthefirsttimeinmanymonthsthefirewasout，Jo’splacewasempty，andtheroomwasverystill。

Butabirdsangblithelyonabuddingbough，closeby，thesnowdropsblossomedfreshlyatthewindow，andthespringsunshinestreamedinlikeabenedictionovertheplacidfaceuponthepillow，afacesofullofpainlesspeacethatthosewholoveditbestsmiledthroughtheirtears，andthankedGodthatBethwaswellatlast。

Amy’slecturedidLauriegood，though，ofcourse，hedidnotownittilllongafterward。Menseldomdo，forwhenwomenaretheadvisers，thelordsofcreationdon’ttaketheadvicetilltheyhavepersuadedthemselvesthatitisjustwhattheyintendedtodo。Thentheyactuponit，and，ifitsucceeds，theygivetheweakervesselhalfthecreditofit。Ifitfails，theygenerouslygiveherthewhole。Lauriewentbacktohisgrandfather，andwassodutifullydevotedforseveralweeksthattheoldgentlemandeclaredtheclimateofNicehadimprovedhimwonderfully，andhehadbettertryitagain。

Therewasnothingtheyounggentlemanwouldhavelikedbetter，butelephantscouldnothavedraggedhimbackafterthescoldinghehadreceived。Prideforbid，andwheneverthelonginggrewverystrong，hefortifiedhisresolutionbyrepeatingthewordsthathadmadethedeepestimpression，“Idespiseyou。“

“Goanddosomethingsplendidthatwillmakeherloveyou。“

Laurieturnedthematteroverinhismindsooftenthathesoonbroughthimselftoconfessthathehadbeenselfishandlazy，butthenwhenamanhasagreatsorrow，heshouldbeindulgedinallsortsofvagariestillhehasliveditdown。Hefeltthathisblightedaffectionswerequitedeadnow，andthoughheshouldneverceasetobeafaithfulmourner，therewasnooccasiontowearhisweedsostentatiously。Jowouldn’tlovehim，buthemightmakeherrespectandadmirehimbydoingsomethingwhichshouldprovethatagirl’snohadnotspoiledhislife。Hehadalwaysmeanttodosomething，andAmy’sadvicewasquiteunnecessary。Hehadonlybeenwaitingtilltheaforesaidblightedaffectionsweredecentlyinterred。

Thatbeingdone，hefeltthathewasreadyto`hidehisstrickenheart，andstilltoilon’。

AsGoethe，whenhehadajoyoragrief，putitintoasong，soLaurieresolvedtoembalmhislovesorrowinmusic，andtocomposeaRequiemwhichshouldharrowupJo’ssoulandmelttheheartofeveryhearer。Thereforethenexttimetheoldgentlemanfoundhimgettingrestlessandmoodyandorderedhimoff，hewenttoVienna，wherehehadmusicalfriends，andfelltoworkwiththefirmdeterminationtodistinguishhimself。Butwhetherthesorrowwastoovasttobeembodiedinmusic，ormusictooetherealtoupliftamortalwoe，hesoondiscoveredthattheRequiemwasbeyondhimjustatpresent。Itwasevidentthathismindwasnotinworkingorderyet，andhisideasneededclarifying，forofteninthemiddleofaplaintivestrain，hewouldfindhimselfhummingadancingtunethatvividlyrecalledtheChristmasballatNice，especiallythestoutFrenchman，andputaneffectualstoptotragiccompositionforthetimebeing。

Thenhetriedanopera，fornothingseemedimpossibleinthebeginning，buthereagainunforeseendifficultiesbesethim。HewantedJoforhisheroine，andcalleduponhismemorytosupplyhimwithtenderrecollectionsandromanticvisionsofhislove。Butmemoryturnedtraitor，andasifpossessedbytheperversespiritofthegirl，wouldonlyrecallJo’soddities，faults，andfreaks，wouldonlyshowherinthemostunsentimentalaspects——beatingmatswithherheadtiedupinabandana，barricadingherselfwiththesofapillow，orthrowingcoldwateroverhispassionalaGummidge——andanirresistablelaughspoiledthepensivepicturehewasendeavoringtopaint。Jowouldn’tbeputintotheoperaatanyprice，andhehadtogiveherupwitha“Blessthatgirl，whatatormentsheis!“

andaclutchathishair，asbecameadistractedcomposer。

Whenhelookedabouthimforanotherandalessintractabledamseltoimmortalizeinmelody，memoryproducedonewiththemostobligingreadiness。Thisphantomworemanyfaces，b