“Go to bed and don’t talk, for we must be up early, and shall need all the sleep we can get. Good night, my darlings,” said Mrs. March, as the hymn ended, for no one cared to try another.

They kissed her quietly, and went to bed as silently as if the dear invalid lay in the next room. Beth and Amy soon fell asleep in spite of the great trouble, but Meg lay awake, thinking the most serious thoughts she had ever known in her short life. Jo lay motionless, and her sister fancied that she was asleep, till a stifled sob made her exclaim, as she touched a wet cheek⁠—

“Jo, dear, what is it? Are you crying about father?”

“No, not now.”

“What then?”

“My⁠—my hair!” burst out poor Jo, trying vainly to smother her emotion in the pillow.