As she spoke, Mrs. March came and took her place among them, looking as if her holiday had not been much pleasanter than theirs.
“Are you satisfied with your experiment, girls, or do you want another week of it?” she asked, as Beth nestled up to her and the rest turned toward her with brightening faces, as flowers turn toward the sun.
“I don’t!” cried Jo decidedly.
“Nor I,” echoed the others.
“You think then, that it is better to have a few duties and live a little for others, do you?”
“Lounging and larking doesn’t pay,” observed Jo, shaking her head. “I’m tired of it and mean to go to work at something right off.”
“Suppose you learn plain cooking. That’s a useful accomplishment, which no woman should be without,” said Mrs. March, laughing inaudibly at the recollection of Jo’s dinner party, for she had met Miss Crocker and heard her account of it.
“Mother, did you go away and let everything be, just to see how we’d get on?” cried Meg, who had had suspicions all day.
“Yes, I wanted you to see how the comfort of all depends on each doing her share faithfully. While Hannah and I did your work, you got on pretty well, though I don’t think you were very happy or amiable. So I thought, as a little lesson, I would show you what happens when everyone thinks only of herself. Don’t you feel that it is pleasanter to help one another, to have daily duties which make leisure sweet when it comes, and to bear and forbear, that home may be comfortable and lovely to us all?”
“We do, Mother, we do!” cried the girls.