She also fancied, having set her heart upon seeing it, that she saw a certain increase of gentleness in Laurie's manner, that he dropped his voice now and then, laughed less than usual, was a little absent-minded, and settled the afghan over Beth's feet with an assiduity that was really almost tender.
"Who knows?
Stranger things have happened," thought Jo, as she fussed about the room.

"She will make quite an angel of him, and he will make life delightfully easy and pleasant for the dear, if they only love each other.

I don't see how he can help it, and I do believe he would if the rest of us were out of the way." As everyone was out of the way but herself, Jo began to feel that she ought to dispose of herself with all speed.

But where should she go?
And burning to lay herself upon the shrine of sisterly devotion, she sat down to settle that point.
Now, the old sofa was a regular patriarch of a sofa--long, broad, well-cushioned, and low, a trifle shabby, as well it might be, for the girls had slept and sprawled on it as babies, fished over the back, rode on the arms, and had menageries under it as children, and rested tired heads, dreamed dreams, and listened to tender talk on it as young women.

They all loved it, for it was a family refuge, and one corner had always been Jo's favorite lounging place.