Music Welcome to snoozecast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at snoozecast.com and if you enjoy our show, please share us with a friend. This episode is brought to you by Twilight Confidences. Tonight, we'll read the next chapter of Good Wives, written by Luisa Mae Alcott. This is also known as the second half of the little women novel and is considered the 30-second chapter as part of that work as a whole. Our last episode was the chapter titled, Our Foreign Correspondent and Amy writes from her travels abroad, sharing her excitement and experiences in London and Paris. She describes sightseeing, social gatherings with friends, and romantic adventures, including a potential suitor, Fred. Amy reflects on the practicality of a marriage with Fred, valuing his wealth and status while assuring her family that she will make prudent decisions. This next chapter is titled, Tender Troubles. Get cozy. Close your eyes. Relax your body into the softness of your bed. Now take a few deep breaths. 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, and doesn't talk to her father as much as she used to. 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. And 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 forced my children's confidence, and I seldom have to wait for it long. Mrs. March glanced at Joe as she spoke, but the face opposite seemed quite unconscious of any secret disquietude but baths. And after sewing thoughtfully for a minute, Joe said, I think she's growing up and so begins to dream dreams and have hopes and fears and fidgets without knowing why or being able to explain them. Why, mother, baths 18, but we don't realize it and treat her like a child Forgetting she's a woman So she is Dear heart how fast you do grow up and return to her mother with a sigh and a smile Can't be help Marmy, so you must resign yourself to all sorts of worries and let your birds hop out of the nest one by one. I promise never to hop very far if that is any comfort to you. It is a great comfort, Joe. I always feel strong when you are at home. Now Meg is gone. Beth is too feeble, and Amy too young to depend upon, but when the tug comes, you are always ready. Why? You know I don't mind hard jobs much, and there must always be one scrub in a family. Amy is splendid and fine works, and I'm not. But I feel in my element when all

the carpets are to be taken up, or half the family fall sick at once. Amy is distinguishing

herself abroad. But if anything is a miss at home, I'm your man. I leave Beth to your hands,

then, for she will open her tender little heart to her joe sooner than to anyone else. Be very kind, and don't let her think anyone watches or talks about her. If she only would get quite strong and cheerful again, I shouldn't have a wish in the world. Happy woman, I've got heaps. My dear, what are they? I'll settle Bethes' troubles, and then I'll tell you mine. They are not very wearing, so they'll keep. And Joe stitched away with a wise nod, which set her mother's heart at rest about her for the present at least. While apparently absorbed in her own affairs, Joe watched Beth and after many conflicting conjectures, finally settled upon one which seemed to explain the change in her. A slight incident gave Joe the clue to the mystery she thought, and lively fancy, loving heart did the rest. She was affecting to write Bizzily one Saturday afternoon when she and Beth were alone together. Yet as she scribbled, she kept her eye on her sister, who seemed unusually quiet. Sitting at the window, Beth's work often dropped into her lap, and she leaned her head upon her hand in a rejected attitude while her eyes rested on the dull, autumnal landscape. Suddenly, someone passed below, whistling like an operatic blackbird, and a voice called out. All serene coming in tonight.

Beth start. All serene, coming in tonight, Beth started, leaned forward, smiled and nodded, watched the passerby till his quick-trimp died away. softly, as if to herself, how strong and well and happy that dear boy looks. Humm, said Joe, still intent upon her sister's face, for the bright color faded as quickly as it came. The smile vanished, and presently a tear lay shining on the window ledge. Beth whisked it off and glanced apprehensively at Joe. But she was scratching away at a tremendous rate, apparently in grossed-in Olympia's oath. The instant Beth turned, Joe began her watch again, saw Beth's hand go quietly to her eyes more than once, and in her half-averted face, red attendor sorrow that made her own eyes fill. Fearing to betray herself, she slipped away, murmuring something about needing more paper. Mercy on me, Beth loves Lori, she said, sitting down in her own room, pale with the shock of the discovery which she believed she had just made. I never dreamt of such a thing. Oh mother say, I wonder if he, there Joe stopped and turned Scarlet with a sudden thought. If he shouldn't love back again how dreadful it would be, he must.

I'll make him. And she shook her head threateningly at the picture of the mischievous looking boy laughing at her from the wall. Oh dear, we are growing up with vengeance. Here's Meg married and a mama, Amy flourishing away at Paris and Beth in love. I'm the only one that has sense enough to keep out of mischief. Joe thought intently for a minute with her eyes fixed on the picture. Then she smoothed out her wrinkled forehead and said, with a decided nod at the face opposite, no thank you sir, you're very charming, but you've no more stability than a weathercock, so you needn't write touching notes and smile in that insinuating way for it won't do a bit of good and I won't have it. Then she sighed and fell into our reverie from which she did not wake till the early twilight sent her down to take new observations, which only confirmed her suspicion. The lorry flirted with Amy and joked with Joe. His manner to Beth had always been peculiarly kind and gentle. So was everybody's. Therefore, no one thought of imagining that he cared more for her than for the others. Indeed, a general impression had prevailed in the family of weight. That our boy was getting fonder than ever of Joe, who, however, wouldn't hear a word upon the subject, and scolded violently if anyone dared to suggest it. If they had known the various tender passages of the past year, or rather attempts at tender passages which had been nipped in the bud. They would have had the immense satisfaction of saying, I told you so. But Joe hated flandering and would into Loweit, always having a joke or a smile ready at the least sign of impending danger. When Laurie first went to college, he fell in love about once a month. But these small flames were as brief as ardent, did no damage, and much amused Joe, who took great interest in the alter nations of hope, despair, and resignation, which were confided to her in their weekly conferences. But there came a time when Laurie ceased to worship at many shrines, hinted darkly at one, all absorbing passion, and indulged occasionally in fits of gloom. Then he avoided the tender subject altogether, wrote philosophical notes to Joe, turned studios, and gave out that he was going to dig, intending to graduate in a blaze of glory. This suited the young lady better than twilight confidences, tender pressures of the hand, and eloquent glances of the eye, for with Joe, brain developed earlier than heart. And she preferred imaginary heroes to real ones, because when tired of them, the former could be shut up in the tin kitchen till called for, and the latter were less manageable. Things were in this state when the grand discovery was made, and Joe watched Laurie that night as she had never done before. If she had not got the new idea into her head, she would have seen nothing unusual in the fact that Beth was very quiet and Lori very conned to her. But having given the rain to her lively fancy, it galloped away with her at a great pace and common sense, being rather weakened by a long course of romance writing, did not come to the rescue. As usual, Beth lay on the sofa and Lori sat in a low chair close by, amusing her with all sorts of gossip. she depended on her weekly spin, and he never disappointed her. But that evening, Jo fancied that Beth's eyes rested on the lively dark face beside her with peculiar pleasure, and that she listened with intense interest to an account of some exciting cricket match. Though the phrases caught off a dice, stumped off his ground, and the leg hit for three, whereas intelligible to her as Sanskrit. 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 upset-minded, and settled the Afghan overbeth's feet with an acidity that was really almost tender. Who knows, stranger things have happened, thought Joe, 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 deer, 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, Joe 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 Joe's favorite lounging place. Among the many pillows that adorned the venerable couch was one, hard, round, covered with prickly horse hair, and furnished with a knobby button at each end. This repulsive pillow was her special property, being used as a weapon of defense, a barricade, or a stern preventative of too much slumber. Laurie knew this pillow well and had caused to regard it with deep aversion, had having been unmercifully pummeled with it in former days, when romping was allowed. And now frequently debarred by it from taking the seat he most coveted, next to Joe in the sofa corner. If the sausage, as they called it, stood on end, it was a sign that he might approach and repose, but if it lay flat across the sofa, woe to the man, woman, or child who dared disturb it. That evening, Jo forgot to barricade her corner and had not been in her seat five minutes before a massive form appeared beside her.

And with both arms spread over the sofa back, both long legs stretched out before him, and Lori exclaimed with a sigh of satisfaction. Now this is filling at the price.

No. side of satisfaction. Now this is filling at the price. No slang, snap Joe slamming down the pillow. But it was too late. There was no room for it. And coasting onto the floor, disappeared in a most mysterious manner.

Come Jo, no. coasting onto the floor, it disappeared in a most mysterious manner. Come, Joe, don't be thorny. After studying himself to a skeleton all the week, a fellow deserves petting, and not to get it. Beth will pet you, I'm busy. No, she's not to be bothered with me, but you like that sort of thing. Unless you've suddenly lost your taste for it. Have you? Do you hate your boy? I want to fire pillows at him. Anything more weedle some than that touching appeal was seldom heard. But Joe quenched her boy by turning on him with the stern query. How many bouquets have you sent Miss Randall this week? Not one. Upon my word, she's engaged. Now then, I'm glad of it. That's one of your foolish extravagances,

sending flowers and things to girls

for whom you don't care to pins.

Continue Joe, reprovingly.

Sensible girls for whom I do care

whole papers of pins won't let me send them flowers and things.

So what can I do? My feelings must have a went. Mother doesn't approve of flirting, even in fun, and you do flirt desperately Teddy. I'd give anything if I could answer so to you. As I can't, I'll merely say that I don't see any harm in that pleasant little game. If all parties understand that it's only play, well, it doesn't look pleasant, but I can't learn how it's done. I've tried because one feels awkward in company, not to do as everybody else is doing, but I don't seem to get on," said Joe, forgetting to play mentor. Take lessons from Amy. She has a regular talent for it. Yes, she does it very prickly and never seems to go too far. I suppose it's natural to some people to please without trying, and others to always say and do the wrong thing in the wrong place. I'm glad you can't flirt. It's really refreshing to see a sensible, straightforward girl, who can be jolly and kind without making a fool of herself. ourselves ourselves, Joe, some of the girls I know really do go on at such a rate I'm ashamed of them. They don't mean any harm, I'm sure. But if they knew how we fellows talked about them afterward, they'd mend their ways, I fancy. They do the same, and as their tongues are the sharpest, you fellows get the worst

of it, for you are as silly as they, every bit. If you behaved properly, they would. But, knowing you like their nonsense, they keep it up, and then you blame them. Much you know it, ma'am," said Laurie, in a superior tone.

We don't like rumps and flirts, though we may act as if we did sometimes. The pretty modest girls are never talked about, except respectfully among gentlemen. Bless your innocent soul. If you could be in my place for a month, you'd see things that would astonish you a trifle. Upon my word, when I see one of those harem-scarom girls, I always want to say with our friend Cockrobin, out upon you, fire upon you, bold face jig. It was impossible to help laughing at the funny conflict between Laurie's chivalrous reluctance to speak ill of woman kind and his very natural dislike of the unfeminine folly of which fashionable society showed him many samples. Joe knew that young Lawrence was regarded as a most eligible party by worldly mamas, was much smiled upon by their daughters, and flattered enough by ladies of all ages to make a cocks' comb of him. So watched him, rather gelously, fearing he would be spoiled. And her choice more than she confessed to find that he still believed in modest girls. Returning suddenly to her Edmontary tone, she said, dropping her voice. If you must have a went, Teddy, go and devote yourself to one of the pretty modest girls, whom you do respect, and not waste your time with the silly ones. You really advise it? And Laurie looked at her with an odd mixture of anxiety and merriment in his face. Yes, I do, but you'd better wait till you're through college on the whole and be fitting yourself for the place meantime. You're not half good enough for, well, whoever the modest girl may be. Joe looked a little queer-like-wise for a name

had almost escaped her.

That I'm not, acquiesced, Laurie,

with an expression of humility quite new to him

as he dropped his eyes

...