Meanwhile letters were coming to every member of the family from Hazel. As March regained his strength there came as special gifts to him, books and magazines, and from time to time a beautiful photograph of an old-world cathedral--Canterbury, or York; a stately castle like Warwick, or Heidelberg; a peasant's chalet, or an English cottage to gladden his artist soul and eye, and transform the walls of his room into dwelling-places for his ideals.
"Mother," he said rather wistfully to Mrs. Blossom, on the first May day as they sat together under the old Wishing-Tree, talking over the plans for his future, "how can I go to work to make it all come true?"
He held in his hand a large photograph of the interior of Cologne Cathedral, which Hazel had given him.
"There are many ways, dear, which are most unexpectedly opened at times. No boy with health and perseverance has much to fear."
"But, mother, father had both, and he was n't able to go through college. He told me all about it the other day, and how he had missed it all through his life."
"I know, March, father failed in attaining to that which was his great desire, but he succeeded so immeasurably in another direction, that I think, sometimes, it must have been all for the best."
"Why, mother, father is poor now--how do you mean he has succeeded?"
"My dear boy, you are only in your seventeenth year, and I don't know that I can make it plain to you because you are young; but when your father conquered every selfish tendency in him, put aside what he had striven so hard for and what was just within his reach, and turned about and did the duty that the time demanded of him;--when he took his dead father's place as provider for the family, and, by his own exertions, placed his mother and sisters beyond want, before he even allowed himself to tell me he loved me, he proved himself a successful man; for he developed, in such hard circumstances, such nobility of character, that he is rich in love and esteem,--and that, March, and only that, is true wealth."
"I see what you mean, mother, but it does n't help me to see how I 'm to get through college, and get the training I need in my profession." March uttered the last word with pride. "There is so much a man has to have for that. Look at that now," he continued, holding up the photograph; "I need all that, and that means Europe, and Europe means money and time, and where is it all to come from?"
His mother smiled at the despairing tone. "As for time, March, you are only in your seventeenth year. That means ten years before you can begin to work in your profession; and as for the means--" she hesitated--"I think it is time to tell you something I 've been keeping and rejoicing over these last two weeks." She drew a letter from her dress-waist and handed it to him. "Read this, dear, and tell me what you think of it." Wondering, March took it and read:--