the
valley,
which “her
John”
liked best
of all the
flowers
that grew.
“You do
look just
like our
own dear
Meg, only
so very
sweet and
lovely
that I
should hug
you if it
wouldn’t
crumple
your
dress,”
cried Amy,
surveying
her with
delight
when all
was done.
“Then I am
satisfied.
But please
hug and
kiss me,
everyone,
and don’t
mind my
dress. I
want a
great many
crumples
of this
sort put
into it
today,”
and Meg
opened her
arms to
her
sisters,
