Chapter 15 A Telegram

November is the most disagreeable month in the whole year' said Margaret, standing at the window one dull afternoon, looking out at the frost-bitten garden.

That's the reason I was born in it,' observed Jo, pensively, quite unconscious of the blot on her nose.

If something very pleasant should happen now, we should think it a delightful month,' said Beth, who took a hopeful view of everything, even November.

I dare say; but nothing pleasant ever does happen in this family,' said Meg, who was out of sorts. `We go grubbing along day after day, without a bit of change, and very little fun. We might as well be in a treadmill.'

My patience, how blue we are!' cried Jo. `I don't much wonder, poor dear, for you see other girls having splendid times, while you grind, grind, year in and year out. Oh, don't I wish I could manage things for you as I do for my heroines! You're pretty enough and good enough already, so I'd have some rich relation leave you a fortune unexpectedly; then you'd dash out as an heiress, scorn everyone who has slighted you, go abroad and come home my Lady Something, in a blaze of splendour and elegance.'

People don't have fortunes left them in that style nowadays; men have to work, and women to marry for money. It's a dreadful unjust world,' said Meg, bitterly.

Jo and I are going to make fortunes for you all; just wait ten years, and see if we don't,' said Amy, who sat in a corner, making mud pies, as Hannah called her little clay models of birds, fruit, and faces.

Can't wait, and I'm afraid I haven't much faith in ink and dirt, though I'm grateful for your good intentions.' Meg sighed, and turned to the frost-bitten garden again; Jo groaned, and leaned both elbows on the table, in a despondent attitude, but Amy patted away energetically; and Beth, who sat at the other window, said, smiling, `Two pleasant things are going to happen right away; Marmee is coming down the street, and Laurie is tramping through the garden as if he had something nice to tell.'

In they both came, Mrs. March with her usual question,

Any letter from Father, girls?' and Laurie to say in his persuasive way, `Won't some of you come for a drive? I've been working away at mathematics till my head is in a muddle, and I'm going to freshen my wits by a brisk turn. It's a dull day, but the air isn't bad, and I'm going to take Brooke home, so it will be gay inside, if it isn't out. Come, Jo, you and Beth will go, won't you?'

Of course we will.'

Much obliged, but I'm busy'; and Meg whisked out her work-basket, for she had agreed with her mother that it was best, for her at least, not to drive often with the young gentleman.

We three will be ready in a minute,' cried Amy, running away to wash her hands.

Can I do anything for you, Madam Mother?' asked Laurie, leaning over Mrs. March's chair, with the affectionate look and tone he always gave her.

No, thank you, except call at the office, if you'll be so kind, dear. It's our day for a letter, and the postman hasn't been. Father is as regular as the sun, but there's some delay on the way, perhaps.'

A sharp ring interrupted her, and a minute after Hannah came in with a letter.

It's one of them horrid telegraph things, mum,' she said, handing it as if she was afraid it would explode and do some damage.

At the word `telegraph', Mrs. March snatched it, read the two lines it contained, and dropped back into her chair as white as if the little paper had sent a bullet to her heart. Laurie dashed downstairs for water, while Meg and Hannah supported her, and Jo read aloud, in a frightened voice:

MRS. MARCH:

Your husband is very ill. Come at once.

S. HALE,

Blank Hospital, Washington.'

How still the room was as they listened breathlessly, how strangely the day darkened outside, and how suddenly the whole world seemed to change, as the girls gathered about their mother, feeling as if all the happiness and support of their lives was about to be taken from them. Mrs. March was herself again directly; read the message over, and stretched out her arms to her daughters, saying, in a tone they never forgot, `I shall go at once, but it may be too late. Oh, children, children, help me to bear it!' For several minutes there was nothing but the sound of sobbing in the room, mingled with broken words of comfort, tender assurances of help, and hopeful whispers that died away in tears. Poor Hannah was the first to recover, and with unconscious wisdom she set all the rest a good example; for, with her, work was the panacea for most afflictions.

The Lord keep the dear man! I won't waste no time a cryin', but git your things ready right away, mum,' she said, heartily, as she wiped her face on her apron, gave her mistress a warm shake of the hand with her own hard one, and went away, to work like three women in one.

She's right; there's no time for tears now. Be calm, girls, and let me think.'

They tried to be calm, poor things, as their mother sat up, looking pale, but steady, and put away her grief to think and plan for them.

Where's Laurie?' she asked presently, when she had collected her thoughts, and decided on the first duties to be done.

Here, ma'am. Oh, let me do something!' cried the boy, hurrying from the next room, whither he had withdrawn, feeling that their first sorrow was too sacred for even his friendly eyes to see.

Send a telegram saying I will come at once. The next train goes early in the morning. I'll take that.'

What else? The horses are ready; I can go anywhere, do anything,' he said, looking ready to fly to the ends of the earth.

Leave a note at Aunt March's. Jo, give me that pen and paper.'

Tearing off the blank side of one of her newly-copied pages, Jo drew the table before her mother, well knowing that money for the long, sad journey must be borrowed, and feeling as if she could do anything to add a little to the sum for her father.

Now go, dear; but don't kill yourself driving at a desperate pace; there is no need of that.'

Mrs. March's warning was evidently thrown away; for five minutes later Laurie tore by the window on his own fleet horse, riding as if for his life.

Jo, run to the rooms and tell Mrs. King that I can't come. On the way get these things. I'll put them down; they'll be needed, and I must go prepared for nursing. Hospital stores are not always good. Beth, go and ask Mr. Laurence for a couple of bottles of old wine: I'm not too proud to beg for Father; he shall have the best of everything. Amy, tell Hannah to get down the black trunk; and Meg, come and help me find my things, for I'm half bewildered.'

Writing, thinking, and directing, all at once, might well bewilder the poor lady, and Meg begged her to sit down quietly in her room for a little while, and let them work. Everyone scattered like leaves before a gust of wind; and the quiet, happy household was broken up as suddenly as if the paper had been an evil spell.

Mr. Laurence came hurrying back with Beth, bringing every comfort the kind old gentleman could think of for the invalid, and friendliest promises of protection for the girls during the mother's absence, which comforted her very much. There was nothing he didn't offer, from his own dressing-gown to himself as escort. But that last was impossible. Mrs. March would not hear of the old gentleman's undertaking the long journey; yet an expression of relief was visible when he spoke of it, for anxiety ill fits one for travelling. He saw the look, knit his heavy eyebrows, rubbed his hands, and marched abruptly away, saying he'd be back directly. No one had time to think of him again till, as Meg ran through the entry, with a pair of rubbers in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, she came suddenly upon Mr. Brooke.

I'm very sorry to hear of this, Miss March,' he said, in the kind, quiet tone which sounded pleasantly to her perturbed spirit. `I came to offer myself as escort to your mother. Mr. Laurence has commissions for me in Washington, and it will give me real satisfaction to be of service to her there.'

Down dropped the rubbers, arid the tea was very near following, as Meg put out her hand, with a face so full of gratitude, that Mr. Brooke would have felt repaid for a much greater sacrifice than the trilling one of time and comfort which he was about to make.

How kind you all are! Mother will accept, I'm sure; and it will be such a relief to know that she has someone to take care of her. Thank you very, very much!'

Meg spoke earnestly, and forgot herself entirely, till something in the brown eyes looking down at her made her remember the cooling tea, and lead the way into the parlour, saying she would call her mother.

Everything was arranged by the time Laurie returned with a note from Aunt March enclosing the desired sum, and a few lines repeating what she had often said before - that she had always told them it was absurd for March to go into the army, always predicted that no good would come of it, and she hoped they would take her advice next time. Mrs. March put the note in the fire, the money in her purse, and went on with her preparations, with her lips folded tightly, in a way which Jo would have understood if she had been there.

The short afternoon wore away; all the other errands were done, and Meg and her mother busy at some necessary needlework, while Beth and Amy got tea, and Hannah finished her ironing with what she called a `slap and a bang', but still Jo did not come. They began to get anxious; and Laurie went off to find her, for no one ever knew what freak Jo might take into her head. He missed her, however, and she came walking in with a very queer expression of countenance, for there was a mixture of fun and fear, satisfaction and regret in it, which puzzled the family as much as did the roll of bills she laid before her mother, saying, with a little choke in her voice, `That's my contribution towards making Father comfortable, and bringing him home!'

My dear, where did you get it? Twenty-five dollars? Jo, I hope you haven't done anything rash?'

No, it's mine honestly; I didn't beg, borrow, or steal it. I earned it; and I don't think you'll blame me, for I only sold what was my own.'

As she spoke, Jo took off her bonnet, and a general outcry arose, for all her abundant hair was cut short.

Your hair! Your beautiful hair!'

Oh, Jo, how could you? Your one beauty.'

My dear girl, there was no need of this.'

She doesn't look like my Jo any more, but I love her dearly for it!'

As everyone exclaimed, and Beth hugged the cropped head tenderly, Jo assumed an indifferent air, which did not deceive anyone a particle, and said, rumpling up the brown bush, and trying to look as if she liked it, `It doesn't affect the fate of the nation, so don't wail, Beth. It will be good for my vanity; I was getting too proud of my wig. It will do my brains good to have that mop taken off; my head feels deliciously light and cool, and the barber said I could soon have a curly crop, which will be boyish, becoming, and easy to keep in order. I'm satisfied; so please take the money, and let's have supper.'

Tell me all about it, Jo. I am not quite satisfied, but I can't blame you, for I know how willingly you sacrificed your vanity, as you call it, to your love. But, my dear, it was not necessary, and I'm afraid you will regret it, one of these days,' said Mrs. March.

No, I won't!' returned Jo, stoutly, feeling much relieved that her prank was not entirely condemned.

What made you do it?' asked Amy, who would as soon have thought of cutting off her head as her pretty hair.

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 nine-pence. 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.

I hadn't the least idea of selling my hair at first, but as I went along I kept thinking what I could do, and feeling as if I'd like to dive into some of the rich stores and help myself. In a barber's window I saw tails of hair with the prices marked; and one black tail, not so thick as mine, was forty dollars. It came over me all of a sudden that I had one thing to make money out of, and without stopping to think, I walked in, asked if they bought hair, and what they would give for mine.'

I don't see how you dared to do it,' said Beth, in a tone of awe.

Oh, he was a little man who looked as if he merely lived to oil his hair. He rather stared, at first, as if he wasn't used to having girls bounce into his shop and ask him to buy their hair. He said he didn't care about mine, it wasn't the fashionable colour, and he never paid much for it in the first place; the work put into it made it dear, and so on. It was getting late, and I was afraid, if it wasn't done right away, that I shouldn't have it done at all, and you know when I start to do a thing, I hate to give it up; so I begged him to take it, and told him why I was in such a hurry. It was silly, I dare say, but it changed his mind, for I got rather excited, and told the story in my topsy-turvy way, and his wife heard, and said so kindly: "Take it, Thomas, and oblige the young lady; I'd do as much for our Jimmy any day if I had a spire of hair worth selling".'

Who was Jimmy?' asked Amy, who liked to have things explained as they went along.

Her son, she said, who was in the army. How friendly such things make strangers feel, don't they? She talked away all the time the man clipped, and diverted my mind nicely.'

Didn't you feel dreadfully when the first cut came?' asked Meg, with a shiver.

I took a last look at my hair while the man got his things, and that was the end of it. I never snivel over trifles like that; I will confess, though, I felt queer when I saw the dear old hair laid out on the table, and felt only the short, rough ends on my head. It almost seemed as if I'd an arm or a leg off. The woman saw me look at it, and picked out a long lock for me to keep. I'll give it to you, Marmee, just to remember past glories by; for a crop is so comfortable I don't think I shall ever have a mane again.'

Mrs. March folded the wavy chestnut lock, and laid it away with a short grey one in her desk. She only said, `Thank you, deary', but something in her face made the girls change the subject, and talk as cheerfully as they could about Mr. Brooke's kindness, the prospect of a fine day tomorrow, and the happy times they would have when Father came home to be nursed.

No one wanted to go to bed, when, at ten o'clock, Mrs. March put by the last finished job, and said, `Come, girls.' Beth went to the piano and played the father's favourite hymn; all began bravely, but broke down one by one, till Beth was left alone, singing with all her heart, for to her music was always a sweet consoler.

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.

It did not sound at all comical to Meg, who kissed and caressed the afflicted heroine in the tenderest manner.

I'm not sorry,' protested Jo, with a choke. `I'd do it again tomorrow, if I could. It's only the vain, selfish part of me that goes and cries in this silly way. Don't tell anyone, it's all over now. I thought you were asleep, so I just made a little private moan for my one beauty. How came you to be awake?'

I can't sleep, I'm so anxious,' said Meg.

Think about something pleasant, and you'll soon drop off.'

I tried it, but felt wider awake than ever.'

What did you think of?'

Handsome faces - eyes particularly,' answered Meg, smiling to herself, in the dark.

What colour do you like best?'

Brown - that is, sometimes; blue are lovely.'

Jo laughed, and Meg sharply ordered her not to talk, then amiably promised to make her hair curl, and fell asleep to dream of living in her castle in the air.

The clocks were striking midnight, and the rooms were very still, as a figure glided quietly from bed to bed, smoothing a coverlet here, settling a pillow there, and pausing to look long and tenderly at each unconscious face, to kiss each with lips that mutely blessed, and to pray the fervent prayers which only mothers utter. As she lifted the curtain to look out into the dreary night, the moon broke suddenly from behind the clouds, and shone upon her like a bright, benignant face, which seemed to whisper in the silence, `Be comforted, dear soul! There is always light behind the clouds.'

 

“一年之中就数十一月最讨厌了，”这天下午天气阴沉沉的，梅格站在窗边，看着外面花木萧条的园子说道。

“怪不得我在这个月出生，”乔郁郁不乐地说，全没注意到自己鼻子上沾了墨渍。

“如果这会儿有喜事临门，我们就会觉得这是个好月份了，”贝思说。她对所有事情都持乐观态度，即使对十一月。

“也许吧，但这个家从来都没有什么喜事，”心情欠佳的梅格说，”我们日复一日辛苦操劳，但却没有丝毫变化，生活还是枯燥乏味，这不等于活受罪嘛。”“啊呀，我们真是牢骚满腹！”乔叫道，”我倒不怎么奇怪，可怜的人儿，因为你看到别的姑娘们风光快乐，自己却长年累月辛辛苦苦地干啊干埃噢，我但愿能为你安排命运，就像我为自己笔下的女主人公所做的那样！你天生丽质，更兼心地善良，我要安排某个有钱的亲戚出人意料地给你留下一笔财产；于是你成了女继承人，出人头地，对曾经小看你的人不屑一顾，飘洋出国，最后成了高雅的贵夫人衣锦还乡。”“这种事情，今天是不会再有的了。男人得工作，女人得嫁人，这样才能有钱。这个世界好不公平，”梅格苦涩地说。

蛊“我和乔要为你们大家赚钱；等上十年吧，我们赚不到钱才怪呢，”艾美说。她坐在一角做泥饼- 罕娜这样称呼她那些小鸟、水果、脸谱等陶土制的小模型。

“不能等了，再说我对你们的笔墨和泥土也没什么信心，虽然我很感激你们的美意。”梅格叹了一声，又把头转向寒霜满布的园子。乔咕哝着垂头丧气地把双肘支在桌子上，艾美却激动地继续争吵，这时坐在另一面窗边的贝思微笑说：“两桩喜事马上就要临门了：妈咪正从街上走过来；劳里大步穿过园子，好像有好消息要宣布。”两人双双走进来，马奇太太习惯地问道：“爸爸有信来吗，姑娘们？”劳里则邀她们：“你们有谁愿意出去驾车兜风吗？我做数学做得头昏脑涨，想出去兜一圈清醒一下。天气沉闷，不过空气还不坏，我准备接布鲁克回家，所以即使车子外头乏味，里头也是热闹的。来吧，乔，你和贝思都来，好吗？”“我们当然来。 “你的心意我领了，但我没空。”梅格赶快拿出篮子，因为她和母亲商定，最好，至少对她来说，不要经常和这位年轻绅士驾车外出。

“我们三个马上就准备好，”艾美叫道，一面跑去洗手。

“我能帮你捎带点什么吗，太太？”劳里在马奇太太椅边俯下身来，用充满感情的神气和声调问道。他跟她说话向来都是这样。

“不用了，谢谢你。不过，请你到邮局看看，亲爱的孩子。

今天应该有信来，但邮递员却没来。爸爸的信是雷打不动的，蛊恐怕是在路上给耽搁了。”一阵尖锐的铃声打断了她的话，不一会，罕娜手持一封信走进来。

“一封讨厌的什么电报，太太。”她小心翼翼地把电报递过来，仿佛担心它会轰然爆炸并造成伤害。

听到"电报"二字，马奇太太把它一把夺过来，看了里头两行字，便一头倒在椅子上，脸如白纸，仿佛这片小小的纸头似利箭穿心。劳里赶紧冲下楼去拿水，梅格和罕娜则扶着她，乔颤抖着声音念道--马奇太太：你丈夫病重。速来。

华盛顿布兰克医院

Ｓ．黑尔

大家气平静息地听着，房间一片死寂，外面也奇怪地变得昏昏惨惨，世界好像突然变了个模样，姐妹们围着母亲，只觉得仿佛所有的幸福和她们的生活支柱都要被夺走了。马奇太太旋即恢复了神态，她把电报看了一遍，伸出手臂扶着几个女儿，用一种令她们永远也不会忘记的声调说：“我这就动身，但也可能太迟了。哦，孩子们，孩子们，帮我承受这一切吧！”有好一会儿房间里只听到一片啜齐声，夹杂着断断续续的安慰声和轻柔的宽解声。大家呜呜咽咽，话不成语。可怜的罕娜首先恢复了常态，不知不觉地为大家树立了榜样，因蛊为，对于她来说，工作就是解除痛苦的灵丹妙药。

“上帝保佑好人！我不想流眼泪浪费时间，赶紧收拾行李吧，太太，”她由衷地说道，一面用围裙擦擦脸，用粗糙的手紧紧地握了握女主人的手，转身离去，用一个顶三的劲头干起活来。

“她说得对，现在没时间流眼泪。镇静，姑娘们，让我想想。”可怜的姑娘们努力镇定下来，母亲坐起来，脸色苍白而平静。她强忍着悲痛，思量该怎么办。

“劳里在哪儿？”定下神后，她决定了首先要做的几件事，随即问道。

“在这里，太太。噢，让我干点什么吧！”小伙子赶忙从隔壁房间走出来叫道。他刚才觉得她们的悲哀异常神圣，即使是他友好的眼睛也不能亵渎，于是悄悄退下。

“发封电报，说我马上就来。明天一早有一趟车开出，我就搭这趟车。”“还有什么吩咐吗？马匹已经备好；我无论上哪儿、干什么都行。”看样子他已经准备好飞到天涯海角。

“送张便条给马奇婶婶。乔，把笔和纸给我。”乔从刚刚抄好的稿子里撕下一页空白稿纸，把桌子拉到母亲面前。她很清楚必须筹借一笔钱才能应付这次遥远而悲伤的旅行，她真想不惜牺牲一切，为父亲多筹集哪怕是小小的一笔钱。

“去吧，亲爱的，不过别把车驾得太快摔坏了自己；这没蛊有必要。”马奇太太的警告显然被扔到了九霄云外。五分钟后，劳里驾着自己的骏马，拼了命似地从窗边狂奔而过。

“乔，赶快到寓所告诉金斯夫人我不能来了。顺路把这些东西买来。我把它们写下来，它们会派上用场的，我得做好护理的准备，医院的商店不一定好。贝思，去向劳伦斯先生要两瓶陈年葡萄酒：为父亲我可以放下面子向人乞求，他应该得到最好的东西。艾美，告诉罕娜把黑色行李箱拿下来；梅格，你来帮我找找要用的东西，我脑子乱极了。”既要写字动脑筋，又要发号施令，这样大可以使这可怜的女士头脑昏乱，梅格便请她在自己的房间里静静小坐一会，让她们来干。众人分头散去，就像随风而去的树叶；那封电报犹如一纸恶符，一下子便把宁静温馨的家庭拆散。

劳伦斯先生随贝思匆匆而来，好心的老人给病人带来了他能想到的各种慰问品，并友好地承诺在马奇太太离家期间照顾姑娘们，这使马奇太太倍感欣慰。他更主动施以援手，提供各项帮助，小至自己的晨衣，大至亲自当护驾，等等。当护驾是不可能的了，因为马奇太太不愿让老人长途跋涉。不过，当她听到他这样说时脸上流露出一丝宽慰的神情，因为她忧心如焚确实不适宜孤身上路。老人看到她的神情，浓眉一皱，擦擦双手，突然抬脚就走，口里说这就回来。大家忙乱之中便把他给忘了。不料当梅格一手拿着一对橡皮套鞋，一手拿着一杯茶跑出门口时，却突然碰到了布鲁克先生。

“听到这个消息我万分难过，马奇小姐，”他说，声调亲切轻柔。心乱如麻的梅格觉得这声音十分动听。”我来请求当蛊你妈妈的护驾。劳伦斯先生交代我在华盛顿办点事，能在那边为她效劳将是我一大乐事。”橡皮套鞋落到了地上，茶也差一点就溢了出来，梅格伸出手，脸上充满感激之情，布鲁克先生见状恨不能以身相报，更别说付出一点时间来照顾马奇太太了。

“你们都是菩萨心肠！我肯定妈妈会答应的。知道她有人照顾，我们就放心了。真是非常、非常感谢你！”梅格激动得完全忘掉了自己，布鲁克先生低头望着她，棕色的眼睛流露出一种异样的神情，她这才想起将要凉了的茶水，忙把他带进客厅，一面说她这就去叫母亲。

到劳里回来的时候，一切已安排就绪。他从马奇婶婶处带来一张便条，内附她们所希望的金额和几句她以前常常唠叨的话 -她早就再三告诫她们，让马奇参军是桩荒唐事，不会有什么好结果的，她希望她们下次能够听她的劝告。马奇太太看后把纸条放到火炉里，把钱装进钱包，紧闭双唇，继续收拾行装。要是乔在场的话，乔一定能懂得她那副神情。

下午很快就过去了，大小事情已一一办妥，梅格和母亲忙着做一些必需的针线活，贝思和艾美泡茶，罕娜嬷嬷乓乓地，如她所说，熨好衣服，但乔仍没回来。众人开始有点担心，大家都不知道与众不同的乔会起什么念头，劳里便出去找她。他没碰上她，乔却古里古怪地走了进来，神情若喜若悲，似笑似恨，大家正在诧异不解之间，她又把一卷钞票摆在母亲面前，哽哽咽咽地说：“这是我献给爸爸的礼物，让他舒舒服服，平安回家！”“好孩子，这钱是怎么来的？二十五元！乔，你不是干了蛊什么傻事吧？”“不是，这钱千真万确是我的。我没讨，没借，也没偷。

我是自己赚来的，我想你一定不会责备我，我只是卖掉了自己的东西。”乔说着摘下帽子，大家一起惊呼起来，只见一头又浓又密的长发变得短不溜秋。

“你的头发！你那漂亮的头发！”“噢，乔你怎能这样？你秀美的头发！”“好女儿，你没必要这么做。”“她不像我的乔了，但我因此而更深爱她。”在大家的叫声中，贝思把乔剪成平头的脑袋紧紧搂在怀里，乔故意装出一副满不在乎的神态，但却骗不过大家；她用手拨弄一下棕色的短发，以示自己喜欢这种发式，说：“这又不是什么惊天动地的大事，别这么嚎啕大哭了，贝思。这正好可以治治我的虚荣心，我原来对自己的头发也太自鸣得意了点儿。现在剪掉这头乱发，还可以健脑益智，我的脑袋变得又轻便又好使，理发师说短发很快就可以卷曲起来，这样既活泼好看，又容易梳理。我高兴着呢，收起钞票，我们吃饭吧。”“把事情经过告诉我，乔。我并不是十分满意，但我不能责怪你，因为我知道你是多么愿意为自己所爱的人牺牲你所谓的虚荣心。不过，亲爱的，你没必要这样，我怕你有一天会后悔呢，”马奇太太说。

“不，我不会的！”乔坚定地回答。这次胡闹没有遭到严厉谴责，她心里轻松多了。

“是什么促使你这样做的？”艾美问。对于她来说，剪掉蛊一头秀发还不如剪掉她的脑袋。

“嗯，我十分渴望能为爸爸做点事，”乔回答。这时大家已经围在桌边，年青人身体健康，即便遇上烦恼也能照样吃饭。”我像妈妈一样憎恨向人借钱，我知道马奇婶婶又要呱呱乱叫，她向来就是这样，只要你向她借上一文钱。梅格把她这季度的薪水全交了房租，我的却用来买了衣服，我觉得自己很坏，决心无论如何要筹点钱，哪怕是卖掉自己脸上的鼻子。”“你不必为这事而觉得自己很坏，我的孩子。你没有冬衣，用自己辛苦赚来的钱买几件最扑素不过的衣服，这并没有错，“马奇太太说着慈爱地看了乔一眼。

“开始我一点也没想到要卖头发，后来我边走边盘算自己能做点什么，真想窜进富丽堂皇的商店里不问自龋我看到理发店的橱窗摆了几个发辫，都标了价，一个黑色发辫，还不及我的粗，标价四十元。我突然想到我有一样东西可以换钱，于是我顾不上多想便走了进去，问他们要不要头发，我的他们给多少钱。”“我不明白你怎么这样勇敢。”贝思肃然起敬。

“哦。老板是个小个子男人，看他的样子似乎他活着就是为了给他的头发上油。他一开始有点吃惊，看来他不习惯女孩子闯进他的店子里叫他买头发。他说他对我的没什么兴趣，因为颜色并不时髦，首先他不会出高价；这头发要经过加工才值钱，等等。天色将晚，我担心如果我不马上做成这桩买卖，那就根本做不成了，你们也知道我做事不喜欢半途而废；于是我求他把头发买下，并告诉他我为何这样着急。这样做蛊当然很傻，但他听后改变了主意，因为我当时相当激动，话说得语无伦次。他妻子听到了，好心地说：'买下吧，汤姆斯，成全这位小姐吧，如果我有一把值钱的头发，我也会为我们的吉米这样做的。'”“吉米是谁？”逢事喜欢让人解释的艾美问道。

“她的儿子，她说也在军队里头。这种事情使陌生人一见如故，可不是吗？那男人帮我剪发时，她一路跟我拉话儿，分散我的注意力。”“剪刀剪下去的时候你觉得心寒吗？”梅格打了个哆嗦，问。

“趁那男人做准备的当儿，我看了自己的头发最后一眼，仅此而已。我从不为这种小事浪费感情。不过我承认当我看到自己的宝贝头发摆在桌上，摸摸脑袋只剩下又短又粗的发脚时，心里很不自在。这种滋味简直有点像掉了一只手臂一条腿。那女人看到我盯着头发，便捡起一绺长发给我保存。我现在把它交给您，妈妈，以此纪念我昔日的光彩，因为短发舒服极了，我想我以后再也不会留长发了。“马奇太太把卷曲的栗色发绺折起来，把它和一绺灰白色的短发一起放在她的桌子里头，只说了一句：“难为你了，宝贝。”但她脸上的神色、使姑娘们换了个话题。她们强打精神，谈论布鲁克先生是怎样一个好人，又说明天一定天气晴朗，爸爸回来养病的时候大家就可以共享天伦之乐了，等等。

到了十点钟大家仍不愿上床睡觉，马奇太太把刚刚做完的活计搁在一边，说：“来吧，姑娘们。”贝思便走到钢琴前、弹奏父亲最喜欢的圣歌；大家勇敢地唱了起来，但又一个接蛊一个停下了歌声，最后，只剩贝思一人独自纵情歌唱，因为对于她来说，音乐就是心灵最好的慰藉。

“上床睡觉，别讲话，我们得起个大早，要抓紧时间好好休息。晚安，孩子们，“圣歌唱完后马奇太太这样说，因为这时大家都没有心情再唱下去了。

她们静静地亲亲母亲，轻手轻脚地走上床，仿佛生病的父亲就躺在隔壁房间里。尽管挂虑父亲，贝思和艾美还是很快就睡着了，梅格却全无睡意，躺在床上思考她短短的一生以来所遇到的最为严肃的问题。乔躺着也不动，梅格以为她早已入睡，不料却听到一下低低的抽齐声，她一伸手，摸到一张湿漉漉的脸颊，不禁叫起来 “乔，亲爱的，怎么回事？是为爸爸伤心吗？”“不，这会儿不是。”“那是为什么？”“我-—我的头发！”可怜的乔冲口说道。她用枕头死死堵住嘴巴，试图掩住激动的啜齐声，但却徒费功夫。

梅格一点也不觉得好笑，她亲亲这位伤心的女英雄，一边十分温柔地抚摸着她。

“我并不后悔，”乔哽噎了一下声明，”如果可能，我明天还会这样做。这只是我身上的私心在作怪。不要告诉别人，现在好了。我以为你睡着了，所以悄悄为我的一把美发洒几滴眼泪。你怎么也没睡？”“睡不着，我心里很乱，”梅格说。

“想想愉快的事情，就会很快睡着了。”

“我试过了，但反而更清醒。”

蛊“你在想什么？”

“英俊的脸孔 -特别是眼睛，”梅格答道，黑暗中自个微笑起来。

“你最喜欢什么颜色？”

“棕色 -我的意思是，有时候，不过蓝色也很漂亮。”乔笑了，梅格严厉地命她不许再说，接着又笑着答应替她把头发卷曲，随后便酣然入梦，走进她的空中楼阁去了。

时钟敲响十二点，更深夜静，一个人影在床间悄悄移动，把这边的被角掖好，把那边的枕头摆正，又停下来深情地久久凝视着每张熟睡的面孔，轻轻吻吻她们，然后带着无限的爱意热诚祈祷。当她拉起窗帘，望着沉沉夜色时，月亮穿云破雾，倏忽而出，向她洒下一片祥和的光辉，似乎在静夜中悄悄低语：“别着急，善良的人！守得云开见月明。”