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It quite took their breath away, and they stared first at the table and then at their mother, who looked as if she enjoyed it immensely. “Is it fairies?” asked Amy. “Santa Claus,” said Beth. “Mother did it.” And Meg smiled her sweetest, in spite of her gray beard and white eyebrows. “Aunt March had a good fit and sent the supper,” cried Jo, with a sudden inspiration. “All wrong. Old Mr. Laurence sent it,” replied Mrs. March. “The Laurence boy’s grandfather! What in the world put such a thing into his head? We don’t know him!” exclaimed Meg. “Hannah told one of his servants about your breakfast party. He is an odd old gentleman, but that pleased him. He knew my father years ago, and he sent me a polite note this afternoon, saying he hoped I would allow him to express his friendly feeling toward my children by sending them a few trifles in honor of the day. 

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