If they would sing one of the sweet old hymns you have taught them so well, I should like it better than any other music, and feel that it was beautifully suited to the occasion.

Please ask them, with my love.
"MEG." "Will you go ?" and Mr.Bhaer looked at the lads, who were greatly touched by Mrs.Brooke's kind words and wishes.
"Yes," they answered, like one boy; and an hour later they went away with Franz to bear their part in John Brooke's simple funeral.
The little house looked as quiet, sunny, and home-like as when Meg entered it as a bride, ten years ago, only then it was early summer, and rose blossomed everywhere; now it was early autumn, and dead leaves rustled softly down, leaving the branches bare.

The bride was a widow now; but the same beautiful serenity shone in her face, and the sweet resignation of a truly pious soul made her presence a consolation to those who came to comfort her.
"O Meg! how can you bear it so ?" whispered Jo, as she met them at the door with a smile of welcome, and no change in her gentle manner, except more gentleness.
"Dear Jo, the love that has blest me for ten happy years supports me still.

It could not die, and John is more my own than ever," whispered Meg; and in her eyes the tender trust was so beautiful and bright, that Jo believed her, and thanked God for the immortality of love like hers.
They were all there father and mother, Uncle Teddy, and Aunt Amy, old Mr.Laurence, white-haired and feeble now, Mr.and Mrs.Bhaer, with their flock, and many friends, come to do honor to the dead.

One would have said that modest John Brooke, in his busy, quiet, humble life, had had little time to make friends; but now they seemed to start up everywhere, old and young, rich and poor, high and low; for all unconsciously his influence had made itself widely felt, his virtues were remembered, and his hidden charities rose up to bless him.