TENDER TROUBLES.
"Jo, I'm anxious about Beth."
"Why, mother, she has seemed unusually well since the babies came."
"It's not her health that troubles me now; it's her spirits. I'm sure there is something on her mind, and I want you to discover what it is."
"What makes you think so, mother?"
"She sits alone a good deal, and doesn't talk to her father as much as she used. I found her crying over the babies the other day. When she sings, the songs are always sad ones, and now and then I see a look in her face that I don't understand. This isn't like Beth, and it worries me."
"Have you asked her about it?"
"I have tried once or twice; but she either evaded my questions, or looked so distressed that I stopped. I never force my children's confidence, and I seldom have to wait for it long."
Mrs. March glanced at Jo as she spoke, but the face opposite seemed quite unconscious of any secret disquietude but Beth's; and, after sewing thoughtfully for a minute, Jo said,—