.

"She told that fib about her momma, as if she did know, and colored up
when the flowers came quite prettily. Poor thing! She'd be so nice if
she was only got up in style. Do you think she'd be offended if we
offered to lend her a dress for Thursday?" asked another voice.

"She's proud, but I don't believe she'd mind, for that dowdy tarlaton
is all she has got. She may tear it tonight, and that will be a good
excuse for offering a decent one."

Here Meg's partner appeared, to find her looking much flushed and
rather agitated. She was proud, and her pride was useful just then,
for it helped her hide her mortification, anger, and disgust at what
she had just heard. For, innocent and unsuspicious as she was, she
could not help understanding the gossip of her friends. She tried to
forget it, but could not, and kept repeating to herself, "Mrs. M. has
made her plans," "that fib about her mamma," and "dowdy tarlaton," till
she was ready to cry and rush home to tell her troubles and ask for
advice. As that was impossible, she did her best to seem gay, and
being rather excited, she succeeded so well that no one dreamed what an
effort she was making. She was very glad when it was all over and she
was quiet in her bed, where she could think and wonder and fume till
her head ached and her hot cheeks were cooled by a few natural tears.
Those foolish, yet well meant words, had opened a new world to Meg, and
much disturbed the peace of the old one in which till now she had lived
as happily as a child. Her innocent friendship with Laurie was spoiled
by the silly speeches she had overheard. Her faith in her mother was a
little shaken by the worldly plans attributed to her by Mrs. Moffat,
who judged others by herself, and the sensible resolution to be
contented with the simple wardrobe which suited a poor man's daughter
was weakened by the unnecessary pity of girls who thought a shabby
dress one of the greatest calamities under heaven.

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. Everybody dawdled
that morning, and it was noon before the girls found energy enough even
to take up their worsted work. Something in the manner of her friends
struck Meg at once. They treated her with more respect, she thought,
took quite a tender interest in what she said, and looked at her with
eyes th