But Aunt March had not this gift, and she worried Amy very much with her rules and orders, her prim ways, and long, prosy talks.

Finding the child more docile and amiable than her sister, the old lady felt it her duty to try and counteract, as far as possible, the bad effects of home freedom and indulgence.

So she took Amy by the hand, and taught her as she herself had been taught sixty years ago, a process which carried dismay to Amy's soul, and made her feel like a fly in the web of a very strict spider.
She had to wash the cups every morning, and polish up the old-fashioned spoons, the fat silver teapot, and the glasses till they shone.

Then she must dust the room, and what a trying job that was.

Not a speck escaped Aunt March's eye, and all the furniture had claw legs and much carving, which was never dusted to suit.