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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
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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.'

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On the very first morning after her arrival she was up and ringing her bell at cock-crow. When my mother came down to breakfast and was going to make the tea, Miss Murdstone gave her a kind of peck on the cheek, which was her nearest approach to a kiss, and said: ¡¡¡¡'Now, Clara, my dear, I am come here, you know, to relieve you of all the trouble I can. You're much too pretty and thoughtless' - my mother blushed but laughed, and seemed not to dislike this character - 'to have any duties imposed upon you that can be undertaken by me. If you'll be so good as give me your keys, my dear, I'll attend to all this sort of thing in future.' ¡¡¡¡From that time, Miss Murdstone kept the keys in her own little jail all day, and under her pillow all night, and my mother had no more
oil paintingto do with them than I had. ¡¡¡¡My mother did not suffer her authority to pass from her without a shadow of protest. One night when Miss Murdstone had been developing certain household plans to her brother, of which he signified his approbation, my mother suddenly began to cry, and said she thought she might have been consulted. ¡¡¡¡'Clara!' said Mr. Murdstone sternly. 'Clara! I wonder at you.' ¡¡¡¡'Oh, it's very well to say you wonder, Edward!' cried my mother, 'and it's very well for you to talk about firmness, but you wouldn't like it yourself.' ¡¡¡¡Firmness, I may observe, was the grand quality on which both Mr. and Miss Murdstone took their stand. However I might have expressed my comprehension of it at that time, if I had been called upon, I nevertheless did clearly comprehend in my own way, that it was another name for tyranny; and for a certain gloomy, arrogant, devil's humour