Маленькие женщины

A Telegram

           Marchputbythelastfinishedjob,andsaid,"Comegirls."Bethwenttothepianoandplayedthefather’sfavoritehymn.Allbeganbravely,butbrokedownonebyonetillBethwasleftalone,singingwithallherheart,fortohermusicwasalwaysasweetconsoler.

           "Gotobedanddon’ttalk,forwemustbeupearlyandshallneedallthesleepwecanget.Goodnight,mydarlings,"saidMrs.March,asthehymnended,fornoonecaredtotryanother.

           Theykissedherquietly,andwenttobedassilentlyasifthedearinvalidlayinthenextroom.BethandAmysoonfellasleepinspiteofthegreattrouble,butMeglayawake,thinkingthemostseriousthoughtsshehadeverknowninhershortlife.Jolaymotionless,andhersisterfanciedthatshewasasleep,tillastifledsobmadeherexclaim,asshetouchedawetcheek...

           "Jo,dear,whatisit?Areyoucryingaboutfather?"

           "No,notnow."

           "Whatthen?"

           "My...Myhair!"burstoutpoorJo,tryingvainlytosmotherheremotioninthepillow.

           ItdidnotseematallcomicaltoMeg,whokissedandcaressedtheafflictedheroineinthetenderestmanner.

           "I’mnotsorry,"protestedJo,withachoke."I’ddoitagaintomorrow,ifIcould.It’sonlythevainpartofmethatgoesandcriesinthissillyway.Don’ttellanyone,it’sallovernow.Ithoughtyouwereasleep,soIjustmadealittleprivatemoanformyonebeauty.Howcameyoutobeawake?"

           "Ican’tsleep,I’msoanxious,"saidMeg.

           "Thinkaboutsomethingpleasant,andyou’llsoondropoff."

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