1 We are all well and busy, but we long, day and night, to have you back.
2 I wanted to amuse him one night when you were all away, and he was rather dismal.
3 With that she marched off to bed, and there was no merry or confidential gossip that night.
4 Good night, my darlings, said Mrs. March, as the hymn ended, for no one cared to try another.
5 But he got no chance to deliver it, for Meg kept away from him till he came to say good night.
6 You were whispering and laughing together on the sofa last night, and you stopped when I came in.
7 Tell them I think of them by day, pray for them by night, and find my best comfort in their affection at all times.
8 But I don't see what you can do, except get a carriage, or stay here all night, answered Jo, softly rubbing the poor ankle as she spoke.
9 There is so much to do about the play for Christmas night, said Jo, marching up and down, with her hands behind her back, and her nose in the air.
10 How blithely she sang that evening, and how they all laughed at her because she woke Amy in the night by playing the piano on her face in her sleep.
11 No one would own that they were tired of the experiment, but by Friday night each acknowledged to herself that she was glad the week was nearly done.
12 "My old white one again, if I can mend it fit to be seen, it got sadly torn last night," said Meg, trying to speak quite easily, but feeling very uncomfortable.
13 On Christmas night, a dozen girls piled onto the bed which was the dress circle, and sat before the blue and yellow chintz curtains in a most flattering state of expectancy.
14 Poor Meg had a restless night, and got up heavy-eyed, unhappy, half resentful toward her friends, and half ashamed of herself for not speaking out frankly and setting everything right.
15 With many thanks, they said good night and crept in, hoping to disturb no one, but the instant their door creaked, two little nightcaps bobbed up, and two sleepy but eager voices cried out.
16 The first sound in the morning was her voice as she went about the house singing like a lark, and the last sound at night was the same cheery sound, for the girls never grew too old for that familiar lullaby.
17 That night, when Beth played to Mr. Laurence in the twilight, Laurie, standing in the shadow of the curtain, listened to the little David, whose simple music always quieted his moody spirit, and watched the old man, who sat with his gray head on his hand, thinking tender thoughts of the dead child he had loved so much.
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