“Well, I was wild to do something for father,” replied Jo, as they gathered about the table, for healthy young people can eat even in the midst of trouble. “I hate to borrow as much as mother does, and I knew Aunt March would croak; she always does, if you ask for a ninepence. Meg gave all her quarterly salary toward the rent, and I only got some clothes with mine, so I felt wicked, and was bound to have some money, if I sold the nose off my face to get it.”

“You needn’t feel wicked, my child: you had no winter things, and got the simplest with your own hard earnings,” said Mrs. March, with a look that warmed Jo’s heart.