`I do think it was the most fortunate thing in the world that those children should have the measles just now,' said Meg, one April day, as she stood packing the "go abroady" trunk in her room, surrounded by her sisters.
`And so nice of Annie Moffat not to forget her promise. A whole fortnight of fun will be regularly splendid,' replied Jo, looking like a windmill, as she folded skirts, with her long arms.
`And such lovely weather; I'm so glad of that,' added Beth, tidily sorting neck and hair ribbons in her best box, lent for the great occasion.
`I wish I was going to have a fine time, and wear all these nice things,' said Amy, with her mouth full of pins, as she artistically replenished her sister's cushion.
`I wish you were all going; but as you can't, I shall keep my adventures to tell you when I come back. I'm sure it's the least I can do, when you have been so kind, lending me things, and helping me get ready,' said Meg, glancing round the room at the very simple outfit, which seemed nearly perfect in their eyes.
`What did Mother give you out of the treasure-box?' asked Amy, who had not been present at the opening of a certain cedar chest, in which Mrs. March kept a few relics of past splendour as gifts for her girls when the proper time came.
`A pair of silk stockings, that pretty carved fan, and a lovely blue sash. I wanted the violet silk; but there isn't time to make it over, so I must be contented with my old tarlatan.'
`It will look nicely over my new muslin skirt, and the sash will set it off beautifully. I wish I hadn't smashed my coral bracelet, for you might have had it,' said Jo, who loved to give and lend, but whose possessions were usually too dilapidated to be of much use. `There is a lovely old-fashioned pearl set in the treasure-box; but Mother said real flowers were the prettiest ornament for a young girl, and Laurie promised to send me all I want,' replied Meg. `Now, let me see; there's my new grey walking-suit - just curl up the feather in my hat, Beth - then my poplin, for Sunday, and the small party - it looks heavy for spring, doesn't it? The violet silk would be so nice; oh dear.'
`Never mind; you've got the tarlatan for the big party, and you always look like an angel in white,' said Amy, brooding over the little store of finery in which her soul delighted.
`It isn't low-necked, and it doesn't sweep enough, but it will have to do. My blue house-dress looks so well, turned and freshly trimmed, that I feel as if I'd got a new one. My silk sacque isn't a bit the fashion, and my bonnet doesn't look like Sallie's; I didn't like to say anything, but I was sadly disappointed in my umbrella. I told Mother black, with a white handle, but she forgot and bought a green one, with a yellowish handle. It's strong and neat, so I ought not to complain, but I know I shall feel ashamed of it beside Annie's silk one with a gold top,' sighed Meg, surveying the little umbrella with great disfavour.
`Change it,' advised Jo.
`I won't be so silly, or hurt Marmee's feelings, when she took so much pains to get my things. It's a nonsensical notion of mine, and I'm not going to give up to it. My silk stockings and two pairs of new gloves are my comfort. You are a dear, to lend me yours, Jo. I feel so rich, and sort of elegant, with two new pairs, and the old ones cleaned up for common'; and Meg took a refreshing peep at her glove box.
`Annie Moffat has blue and pink bows on her night-caps; would you put some on mine?' she asked, as Beth brought up a pile of snowy muslins, fresh from Hannah's hands.
`No, I wouldn't; for the smart caps won't match the plain gowns, without any trimming on them. Poor folks shouldn't rig,' said Jo, decidedly.
`I wonder if I shall ever be happy enough to have real lace on my clothes, and bows on my caps?' said Meg, impatiently.
`You said the other day that you'd be perfectly happy if you could only go to Annie Moffat's,' observed Beth, in her quiet way.
`So I did! Well, I am happy and I won't fret; but it does seem as if the more one gets the more one wants, doesn't it? There now, the trays are ready, and everything in but my party-dress, which I shall leave for Mother to pack,' said Meg, cheering up, as she glanced from the half-filled trunk to the many-times pressed and mended white tarlatan, which she called her "party-dress", with an important air.
The next day was fine, and Meg departed in style, for a fortnight of novelty and pleasure. Mrs. March had consented to the visit rather reluctantly, fearing that Margaret would come back more discontented than she went. But she had begged so hard, and Sallie had promised to take good care of her, and a little pleasure seemed so delightful after a winter of irksome work, that the mother yielded, and the daughter went to take her first taste of fashionable life.
The Moffats were very fashionable, and simple Meg was rather daunted, at first, by the splendour of the house and the elegance of its occupants. But they were kindly people in spite of the frivolous life they led, and soon put their guest at her ease. Perhaps Meg felt, without understanding why, that they were not particularly cultivated or intelligent people and that all their gilding could not quite conceal the ordinary material of which they were made. It certainly was agreeable to fare sumptuously, drive in a fine carriage, wear her best frock every day, and do nothing but enjoy herself. It suited her exactly; and soon she began to imitate the manners and conversation of those about her; to put on little airs and graces, use French phrases, crimp her hair, take in her dresses, and talk about the fashions as well as she could. The more she saw of Annie Moffat's pretty things, the more she envied her, and sighed to be rich. Home now looked bare and dismal as she thought of it, work grew harder than ever, and she felt that she was a very destitute and much-injured girl, in spite of the new gloves and silk stockings.
She had not much time for repining, however, for the three young girls were busily employed in "having a good time". They shopped, walked, rode, and called all day; went to theatres and operas, or frolicked at home in the evening; for Annie had many friends and knew how to entertain them. Her older sisters were very fine young ladies, and one was engaged, which was extremely interesting and romantic, Meg thought. Mr. Moffat was a fat, jolly old gentleman, who knew her father; and Mrs. Moffat a fat, jolly old lady, who took as great a fancy to Meg as her daughter had done. Everyone petted her; and `Daisy', as they called her, was in a fair way to have her head turned.
When the evening for the `small party' came, she found that the poplin wouldn't do at all, for the other girls were putting on thin dresses, and making themselves very fine indeed; so out came the tarlatan, looking older, limper, and shabbier than ever, beside Sallie's crisp new one. Meg saw the girls glance at it and then at one another, and her cheeks began to burn, for, with all her gentleness, she was very proud. No one said a word about it, but Sallie offered to dress her hair, and Annie to tie her sash, and Belle, the engaged sister, praised her white arms; but in their kindness Meg saw only pity for her poverty, and her heart felt very heavy as she stood by herself, while the others laughed, chattered, and flew about like gauzy butterflies. The hard, bitter feeling was getting pretty bad, when the maid brought in a box of flowers. Before she could speak, Annie had the cover off, and all were exclaiming at the lovely roses, heath, and fern within.
`It's for Belle, of course; George always sends her some, but these are altogether ravishing,' cried Annie, with a great sniff.
`They are for Miss March, the man said. And here's a note,' put in the maid, holding it to Meg.
`What fun! Who are they from? Didn't know you had a lover,' cried the girls, fluttering about Meg in a high state of curiosity and surprise.
`The note is from Mother, and the flowers from Laurie,' said Meg, simply, yet much gratified that he had not forgotten her.
`Oh, indeed!' said Annie, with a funny look, as Meg slipped the note in her pocket, as a sort of talisman against envy, vanity, and false pride; for the few loving words had done her, good, and the flowers cheered her up by their beauty.
Feeling almost happy again, she laid by a few ferns and roses for herself, and quickly made up the rest in dainty bouquets for the breasts, hair, or skirts of her friends, offering them so prettily that Clara, the elder sister, told her she was `the sweetest little thing she ever saw'; and they looked quite charmed with her small attention. Somehow the kind act finished her despondency, and when all the rest went to show themselves to Mrs. Moffat, she saw a happy, bright-eyed face in the mirror, as she laid her ferns against her rippling hair, and fastened the roses in the dress that didn't strike her as so very shabby now. She enjoyed herself very much that evening; everyone was very kind, and she had three compliments. Annie made her sing, and someone said she had a remarkably fine voice; Major Lincoln asked who the "fresh little girl, with the beautiful eyes" was; and Mr. Moffat insisted on paying special attention to her during the evening. So, altogether, she had a very nice time, till she overheard a bit of a conversation, which disturbed her extremely. She was sitting just inside the conservatory, waiting for someone to bring her an ice, when she heard a voice ask, on the other side of the flowery wall: `How old is he?'
`Sixteen or seventeen, I should say,' replied another voice.
`It would be a grand thing for one of those girls, wouldn't it? Sallie says they are very intimate now, and the old man quite dotes on them.'
`Mrs. M. has made her plans, I dare say, and will play her cards well, early as it is. The girl evidently doesn't think of it yet,' said Mrs. Moffat.
`She told that fib about her mamma as if she did know, and coloured 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 tarlatan is all she has got. She may tear it tonight, and that will be a good excuse for offering a decent one.'
`We'll see. I shall ask young Laurence, as a compliment to her, and we'll have fun about it afterwards.'
Here Meg's friend 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 tarlatan', 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 spoilt 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 towards 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 that plainly betrayed curiosity. All this surprised and flattered her, though she did not understand it till Miss Belle looked up from her writing and said, with a sentimental air:
`Daisy, dear, I've sent an invitation to your friend, Mr. Laurence, for Thursday. We should like to know him, and it's only a proper compliment to you.'
Meg coloured, but a mischievous fancy to tease the girls made her reply, demurely:
`You are very kind, but I'm afraid he won't come.'
`Why not, cherie?' asked Miss Belle.
`He's too old.'
`My child, what do you mean? What is his age, I beg to know!' cried Miss Clara.
`Nearly seventy, I believe,' answered Meg, counting stitches to hide the merriment in her eyes.
`You sly creature! Of course we meant the young man,' exclaimed Miss Belle, laughing.
`There isn't any, Laurie is only a little boy,' and Meg laughed also at the queer look which the sisters exchanged as she thus described her supposed lover.
`About your age,' Nan said.
`Nearer my sister Jo's; I am seventeen in August,' returned Meg, tossing her head.
`It's very nice of him to send you flowers, isn't it?' said Annie looking wise about nothing.
`Yes, he often does to all of us, for their house is full and we are so fond of them. My mother and old Mr. Laurence are friends, you know, so it is quite natural that we children should play together'; and Meg hoped they would say no more.
`It's evident Daisy isn't out yet,' said Miss Clara to Belle, with a nod.
`Quite a pastoral state of innocence all round,' returned Miss Belle, with a shrug.
`I'm going out to get some little matters for my girls; can I do anything for you, young ladies?' asked Mrs. Moffat, lumbering in, like an elephant, in silk and lace.
`No, thank you, ma'am,' replied Sallie. `I've got my new pink silk for Thursday, and don't want a thing.'
`Nor I——' began Meg, but stopped, because it occurred to her that she did want several things, and could not have them.
`What shall you wear?' asked Sallie.
`My old white one again, if I can mend it fit to be seen; it got sadly torn last night,' said Meg, trying to speak quite easily, but feeling very uncomfortable.
`Why don't you send home for another?' said Sallie, who was not an observing young lady.
`I haven't got any other.' It cost Meg an effort to say that, but Sallie did not see it, and exclaimed, in amiable surprise:
`Only that? How funny——' She did not finish her speech, for Belle shook her head at her, and broke in, saying kindly:
`Not at all; where is the use of having a lot of dresses when she isn't out? There's no need of sending home, Daisy, even if you had a dozen, for I've got a sweet blue silk laid away, which I've outgrown, and you shall wear it to please me, won't you, dear?'
`You are very kind, but I don't mind my old dress, if you don't; it does well enough for a little girl like me,' said Meg.
`Now do let me please myself by dressing you up in style. I admire to do it, and you'd be a regular little beauty with a touch here and there. I shan't let anyone see you till you are done, and then we'll burst upon them like Cinderella and her godmother going to the ball,' said Belle, in her persuasive tone. Meg couldn't refuse the offer so kindly made, for a desire to see if she would be `a little beauty' after touching up, caused her to accept, and forget all her former uncomfortable feelings towards the Moffats.
On the Thursday evening Belle shut herself up with her maid; and between them they turned Meg into a fine lady. They crimped and curled her hair, they polished her neck and arms with some fragrant powder, touched her lips with coralline salve, to make them redder, and Hortense would have added `a soup鏾n of rouge', if Meg had not rebelled. They laced her into a sky-blue dress which was so tight she could hardly breathe, and so low in the neck that modest Meg blushed at herself in the mirror. A set of silver filigree was added, bracelets, necklace, broach, and even earrings, for Hortense tied them on with a bit of pink silk which did not show. A cluster of tea-rosebuds at the bosom and a ruche reconciled Meg to the display of her pretty white shoulders, and a pair of high-heeled blue silk boots satisfied the last wish of her heart. A laced handkerchief, a plumy fan, and a bouquet in a silver holder finished her off; and Miss Belle surveyed her with the satisfaction of a little girl with a newly dressed doll.
`Mademoiselle is charmante, tres jolie, is she not?' cried Hortense, clasping her hands in an affected rapture.
`Come and show yourself,' said Miss Belle, leading the way to the room where the others were waiting.
As Meg went rustling after her, with her long skirts trailing, her earrings tling, her curls waving, and her heart beating, she felt as if her "fun" had really begun at last, for the mirror had plainly told her that she was "a little beauty". Her friends repeated the pleasing phrase enthusiastically; and for several minutes she stood, like the jackdaw in the fable, enjoying her borrowed plumes, while the rest chattered like a party of magpies. `While I dress, do you drill her, Nan, in the management of her skirt, and those French heels, or she will trip herself up. Take your silver butterfly, and catch up that long curl on the left side of her head, Clara, and don't any of you disturb the charming work of my hands,' said Belle, as she hurried away, looking well pleased with her success.
`I'm afraid to go down, I feel so queer and stiff and half-dressed,' said Meg to Sallie, as the bell rang, and Mrs. Moffat sent to ask the young ladies to appear at once.
`You don't look a bit like yourself, but you are very nice. I'm nowhere beside you, for Belle has heaps of taste, and you're quite French, I assure you. Let your flowers hang; don't be so careful of them, and be sure you don't trip,' returned Sallie; trying not to care that Meg was prettier than herself. Keeping that warning carefully in mind, Margaret got safely downstairs, and sailed into the drawing rooms, where the Moffats and a few early guests were assembled. She very soon discovered that there is a charm about fine clothes which attracts a certain class of people, and secures their respect. Several young ladies who had taken no notice of her before, were very affectionate all of a sudden; several young gentlemen, who had only stared at her at the other party, now not only stared, but asked to be introduced, and said all manner of foolish but agreeable things to her; and several old ladies, who sat on sofas and criticized the rest of the party, inquired who she was, with an air of interest. She heard Mrs. Moffat reply to one of them: `Daisy March - father a colonel in the army - one of our first families, but reverses of fortune, you know; intimate friends of the Laurences; sweet creature, I assure you; my Ned is quite wild about her.'
`Dear me!' said the old lady, putting up her glass for another observation of Meg, who tried to look as if she had not heard, and been rather shocked at Mrs. Moffat's fibs.
The "queer feeling" did not pass away, but she imagined herself acting the new part of a fine lady, and so got on pretty well, though the tight dress gave her a side-ache, the train kept getting under her feet, and she was in constant fear lest her earrings should fly off, and get lost or broken. She was flirting her fan, and laughing at the feeble jokes of a young gentleman who tried to be witty, when she suddenly stopped laughing, and looked confused; for, just opposite, she saw Laurie. He was staring at her with undisguised surprise, and disapproval also, she thought, for, though he bowed and smiled, yet something in his honest eyes made her blush, and wish she had her old dress on. To complete her confusion, she saw Belle nudge Annie, and both glance from her to Laurie, who, she was happy to see, looked unusually boyish and shy.
`Silly creatures, to put such thoughts into my head! I won't care for it, or let it change me a bit,' thought Meg, and rustled across the room to shake hands with her friend.
`I'm glad you've come, I was afraid you wouldn't,' she said, with her most grown-up air.
`Jo wanted me to come, and tell her how you looked, so I did,' answered Laurie, without turning his eyes upon her, though he half smiled at her maternal tone.
`What shall you tell her?' asked Meg, full of curiosity to know his opinion of her, yet feeling ill at ease with him, for the first time.
`I shall say I didn't know you; for you look so grown-up, and unlike yourself, I'm quite afraid of you,' he said, fumbling at his glove-button.
`How absurd of you! The girls dressed me up for fun, and I rather like it. Wouldn't Jo stare if she saw me?' said Meg, bent on making him say whether he thought her improved or not.
`Yes, I think she would,' returned Laurie, gravely.
`Don't you like me so?' asked Meg.
`No, I don't,' was the blunt reply.
`Why not?' in an anxious tone.
He glanced at her frizzled head, bare shoulders, and fantastically trimmed dress, with an expression that abashed her more than his answer, which had not a particle of his usual politeness about it.
`I don't like fuss and feathers.'
That was altogether too much from a lad younger than herself, and Meg walked away, saying petulantly: `You are the rudest boy I ever saw.'
Feeling very much ruffled, she went and stood at a quiet window to cool her cheeks, for the tight dress gave her an uncomfortably brilliant colour. As she stood there, Major Lincoln passed by, and, a minute after, she heard him saying to his mother: `They are making a fool of that little girl; I wanted you to see her, but they have spoilt her entirely; she's nothing but a doll tonight.'
`Oh dear!' sighed Meg; `I wish I'd been sensible, and worn my own things; then I should not have disgusted other people or felt so uncomfortable and ashamed of myself.'
She leaned her forehead on the cool pane, and stood half hidden by the curtains, never minding that her favourite song had begun, till someone touched her; and, turning, she saw Laurie, looking penitent, as he said, with his very best bow, and his hand out:
`Please forgive my rudeness, and come and have an ice with me.'
`I'm afraid it will be too disagreeable to you,' said Meg, trying to look offended, and failing entirely.
`Not a bit of it. Come, I'll be good; I don't like your gown, but I do think you are - just splendid'; and he waved his hands, as if words failed to express his admiration.
Meg smiled and relented, and whispered, as they stood waiting: `Take care my skirt don't trip you up; it's the plague of my life, and I was a goose to wear it.'
`Pin it round your neck, and then it will be useful', said Laurie, looking down at the little blue boots, which he evidently approved of.
`Laurie, I want you to do me a favour; will you?' said Meg.
`Won't I!' said Laurie, with alacrity.
`Please don't tell them at home about my dress tonight. They won't understand the joke, and it will worry Mother.'
`Then why did you do it?' said Laurie's eyes, so plainly that Meg hastily added: `I shall tell them myself all about it and "'fess" to Mother how silly I've been. But I'd rather do it myself; so you'll not tell, will you?'
`I give you my word I won't; only what shall I say when they ask me?'
`Just say I looked pretty well, and was having a good time.'
`I'll say the first with all my heart; but how about the other? You don't look as if you were having a good time; are you?' and Laurie looked at her with an expression which made her answer, in a whisper: `No, not just now. Don't think I'm horrid; I only wanted a little fun, but this sort doesn't pay, I find, and I'm getting tired of it.'
`Here comes Ned Moffat; what does he want?' said Laurie, knitting his black brows as if he did not regard his young host in the light of a pleasant addition to the party.
`What a bore!' said Meg, assuming a languid air, which amused Laurie immensely.
He did not speak to her again till supper-time, when he saw her drinking champagne with Ned and his friend Fisher, who were behaving `like a pair of fools', as Laurie said to himself, for he felt a brotherly sort of right to watch over the Marches, and fight their battles whenever a defender was needed.
`You'll have a splitting headache tomorrow, if you drink that stuff. I wouldn't, Meg; your mother doesn't like it, you know,' he whispered, leaning over her chair, as Ned turned to refill her glass, and Fisher stooped to pick up her fan.
`I'm not Meg tonight; I'm a "doll", who does all sorts of crazy things. Tomorrow I shall put away my "fuss and feathers", and be desperately good again,' she answered, with an affected little laugh.
`Wish tomorrow was here, then,' muttered Laurie, walking off, ill-pleased at the change he saw in her.
Meg danced and flirted, chattered and giggled, as the other girls did; after supper she undertook the German polka, and blundered through it, nearly upsetting her partner with her long skirt, and romping in a way that scandalized Laurie, who looked on, and meditated a lecture. But he got no chance to deliver it, for Meg kept away from him till he came to say good night.
`Remember!' she said, trying to smile, for the splitting headache had already begun.
`Silence * la mort,' relied Laurie, with a melodramatic flourish, as he went away.
This little bit of byplay excited Annie's curiosity; but Meg was too tired for gossip, and went to bed feeling as if she had been to a masquerade, and hadn't enjoyed herself as much as she expected. She was sick all the next day, and on Saturday went home, quite used up with her fortnight's fun, and feeling that she had `sat in the lap of luxury' long enough.
`It does seem pleasant to be quiet, and not have company manners on all the time. Home is a nice place, though it isn't splendid,' said Meg, looking about her with a restful expression as she sat with her mother and Jo on the Sunday evening.
`I'm glad to hear you say so, dear, for I was afraid home would seem dull and poor to you after your fine quarters,' replied her mother, who had given her many anxious looks that day; for motherly eyes are quick to see any change in children's faces. Meg had told her adventures gaily, and said over and over what a charming time she had had; but something still seemed to weigh upon her spirits, and, when the younger girls were gone to bed, she sat thoughtfully staring at the fire, saying little, and looking worried.
As the clock struck nine, and Jo proposed bed, Meg suddenly left her chair, and taking Beth's stool, leaned her elbows on her mother's knee, saying bravely:
`Marmee, I want to "'fess".'
`I thought so; what is it, dear?'
`Shall I go away?' asked Jo, discreetly.
`Of course not; don't I always tell you everything? I was ashamed to speak of it before the children, but I want you to know all the dreadful things I did at the Moffats'.'
`We are prepared,' said Mrs. March, smiling, but looking a little anxious.
`I told you they dressed me up, but I didn't tell you that they powdered and squeezed and frizzled, and made me look like a fashion-plate. Laurie thought I wasn't proper; I know he did, though he didn't say so, and one man called me "a doll". I knew it was silly, but they flattered me, and said I was a beauty, and quantities of nonsense, so I let them make a fool of me.'
`Is that all?' asked Jo, as Mrs. March looked silently at the downcast face of her pretty daughter, and could not find it in her heart to blame her little follies.
`No; I drank champagne, and romped, and tried to flirt and was altogether abominable,' said Meg, self-reproachfully.
`There is something more, I think,' and Mrs. March smoothed the soft cheek, which suddenly grew rosy, as Meg answered slowly:
`Yes; it's very silly, but I want to tell it, because I hate to have people say and think such things about us and Laurie.'
Then she told the various bits of gossip she had heard at the Moffats'; and, as she spoke, Jo saw her mother fold her lips tightly, as if ill pleased that such ideas should be put into Meg's innocent mind.
`Well, if that isn't the greatest rubbish I ever heard,' cried Jo, indignantly. `Why didn't you pop out and tell them so, on the spot?'
`I couldn't, it was so embarrassing for me. I couldn't help hearing at first, and then I was so angry and ashamed, I didn't remember that I ought to go away.'
`Just wait till I see Annie Moffat, and I'll show you how to settle such ridiculous stuff. The idea of having "plans", and being kind to Laurie because he's rich, and may marry us by and by! Won't he shout when I tell him what those silly things say about us poor children?' and Jo laughed, as if, on second thoughts, the thing struck her as a good joke.
`If you tell Laurie, I'll never forgive you! She mustn't, must she, Mother?' said Meg, looking distressed.
`No; never repeat that foolish gossip, and forget it as soon as you can,' said Mrs. March, gravely. `I was very unwise to let you go among people of whom I know so little - kind, I dare say, but worldly, ill-bred, and full of these vulgar ideas about young people. I am more sorry than I can express for the mischief this visit may have done you, Meg.'
`Don't be sorry, I won't let it hurt me; I'll forget all the bad, and remember only the good; for I did enjoy a great deal, and thank you very much for letting me go. I'll not be sentimental or dissatisfied, Mother; I know I'm a silly little girl, and I'll stay with you till I'm fit to take care of myself. But it is nice to be praised and admired, and I can't help saying I like it,' said Meg, looking half ashamed of the confession. `That is perfectly natural, and quite harmless, if the liking does not become a passion, and lead one to do foolish or unmaidenly things. Learn to know and value the praise which is worth having, and to excite the admiration of excellent people by being modest as well as pretty, Meg.'
Margaret sat thinking a moment, while Jo stood with her hands behind her, looking both interested and a little perplexed; for it was a new thing to see Meg blushing and talking about admiration, lovers, and things of that sort; and Jo felt as if, during that fortnight, her sister had grown up amazingly, and was drifting away from her into a world where she could not follow.
`Mother, do you have "plans", as Mrs. Moffat said?' asked Meg, bashfully.
`Yes, my dear, I have a great many; all mothers do, but mine differ somewhat from Mrs. Moffat's, I suspect. I will tell you some of them, for the time has come when a word may set this romantic little head and heart of yours right on a very serious subject. You are young, Meg, but not too young to understand me; and mother's lips are the fittest to speak of such things to girls like you. Jo, your turn will come in time, perhaps, so listen to my "plans", and help me carry them out if they are good.'
Jo went and sat on one arm of the chair, looking as if she thought they were about to join in some very solemn affair. Holding a hand of each, and watching the two young faces wistfully, Mrs. March said, in her serious yet cheery way:
`I want my daughters to be beautiful, accomplished, and good; to be admired, loved, and respected; to have a happy youth, to be well and wisely married, and to lead useful, pleasant lives, with as little care and sorrow to try them as God sees fit to send. To be loved and chosen by a good man is the best and sweetest thing which can happen to a woman; and I sincerely hope my girls may know this beautiful experience. It is natural to think of it, Meg; right to hope and wait for it, and wise to prepare for it; so that, when the happy time comes, you may feel ready for the duties and worthy of the joy. My dear girls, I am ambitious for you, but not to have you make a dash in the world - marry rich men merely because they are rich, or have splendid houses, which are not homes because love is wanting. Money is a needful and precious thing - and, when well used, a noble thing - but I never want you to think of it as the first or only prize to strive for. I'd rather see you poor men's wives, if you were happy, beloved, contented, than queens on thrones, without self-respect and peace.'
`Poor girls don't stand any chance, Belle says, unless they put themselves forward,' sighed Meg.
`Then we'll be old maids,' said Jo, stoutly.
`Right, Jo; better be happy old maids than unhappy wives or unmaidenly girls, running about to find husbands,' said Mrs. March, decidedly. `Don't be troubled, Meg; poverty seldom daunts a sincere lover. Some of the best and most honoured women I know were poor girls, but so love-worthy that they were not allowed to be old maids. Leave these things to time. Make this home happy, so that you may be fit for homes of your own if they are offered you, and contented here if they are not. One thing remember, my girls; Mother is always ready to be your confidante, Father to be your friend; and both of us trust and hope that our daughters, whether married or single, will be the pride and comfort of our lives.'
`We will, Marmee, we will!' cried both, with all their hearts, as she bade them good night.
“那班孩子刚好出麻疹，真是最幸运不过了，”梅格说。时值四月，她站在自己房间里往大皮箱装行李，姐妹们围绕在她身边。
“安妮·莫法特没有忘记自己的诺言，这实在太棒了。足足两个星期让你尽情快活，那有多么痛快，”乔一面搭过话儿，一面用长胳膊把几件裙子折起来，形象颇像个风车。
“而且天气晴朗，我真高兴这样，”贝思边说边利索地从自己的宝贝箱子里挑出几条围巾和丝带，供姐姐出席盛会。
“但愿我也能去好好玩玩，把这些漂亮东西全穿戴上，”艾美说。她嘴里衔了满满一口的针，巧妙地插进姐姐的针垫里。
“我真希望大家都能去，既然不能，那就等我回来再跟你们讲遇到的奇闻趣事。你们对我这么好，把东西借给我，帮我收拾行装，我一定尽此绵力，”梅格说着环视房间，眼光落在行装上面。这套行装虽然十分简单，但在她们眼中却几乎十全十美。
“妈妈从那只宝箱里拿出什么给你？”艾美问。马奇太太有个杉木箱子，里头装着几件曾经辉煌一时的旧物，准备在适当的时候送给四个女儿。那天打开箱子时，艾美恰好不在场，故有此一问。
“一对丝袜，一把精致的雕花扇子，还有一条漂亮的蓝色腰带。我原想要那件紫罗兰色的真丝裙子，但却没时间改制了，只好穿我那条旧塔拉丹薄纱裙。”“这比起我的新薄纱裙子还要好看，衬上腰带就更加漂亮了。我真后悔我的珊瑚手镯给砸坏了，不然你便可以戴上它，”乔说。她生性豪爽大方，只是她的财物大都破旧不堪，派不上什么用常"宝箱里有一套漂亮的旧式珍珠首饰，但妈妈说鲜花才是年轻姑娘最美丽的饰物，而劳里答应把我要的全都送来，”梅格回答，”来，让我看看，这是我的新灰色旅行衣- 把羽毛卷进我的帽子里，贝思 -那是星期天和小型晚会穿的府绸裙子- 春天穿显得沉了点，对吧？如果是紫罗兰色的丝绸裙子就好了；唉！”“不要紧，你参加大型晚会还有塔拉丹呢，再说，你穿白衣裳就像个天使，”艾美说道，凝神欣赏着那一小堆漂亮衣饰。
“可它领口太高，拖曳感也不够，但也只好这样应付了。
我那件蓝色家居服倒是挺好，翻了新，并刚刚镶了饰边，和新的一样。我的丝绸外衣一点都不时髦，帽子也不像莎莉那顶；我原不想多说，但我对自己的伞失望极了。我原叫妈妈买一把白柄子的黑伞，她却忘了，带回一把黄柄子的绿桑这把伞结实雅致，因此我不该抱怨，但如果把它跟艾美那把金顶丝绸伞摆在一起，我就要羞死了。”梅格边叹息边极不满意地审视着那把小桑"把它换过来，”乔提议。
“我不会这么傻，妈妈为我花钱已经很不容易了，我不想伤她的心。这只是我的荒唐想法罢了，我不会不分好歹的。幸好我的丝袜和两对新手套可以出出场面。你把自己的借给我，真是好妹妹，乔。我有两对新的，旧的也洗得干干净净，我觉得已经十分气派了。”梅格又朝她放手套的箱子瞄了一眼。
“安妮·莫法特的晚礼帽上头有几个蓝色和粉红色的蝴蝶结；你可以帮我打上几个吗？”她问，这时贝思拿来一堆刚刚从罕娜手中接过的雪白薄纱。
“不，我不想打，因为太醒目的帽子，配没有饰边的素净衣服不好看，”乔断然说道。
“我哪一天才有福气穿上锁有真花边的衣服，戴上打了蝴蝶结的帽子？”梅格不耐烦地说。
“那天你说只要可以去安妮·莫法特家，你就心满意足了，”贝思轻声提醒她。
“我是这样说过！哦，我是很满足，我也不会为此烦恼，不过似乎人得到的越多，野心也就越大，对不？噢，行了，行李装好了，一切齐备，单剩我的舞会礼服了，那要等妈妈来收拾，”梅格说着，眼光从装得半满的行李箱落到熨补过多次、被她郑重其事地称为"舞会礼服"的白色塔拉丹薄纱裙上，心情愉快起来。
第二天天气不错，梅格体面堂皇地辞别大家，准备体验十四天新奇快乐的生活。马奇太太一开始不同意这次出行，担心玛格丽特回来后会比去时更添一层不满。但梅格纠缠不休，莎莉也答应会好好照顾她，而且，干了一个冬天的烦闷工作后，到外面玩玩也是一大乐事，母亲便答应下来，让女儿去一尝上流社会的生活滋味。
莫法特一家确实非常时髦。楼宇富丽堂皇，主人举止优雅，单纯的梅格一开始吃惊不校不过，尽管莫法特一家生活奢华放纵，但他们都是善良的人家，很快便使客人轻松下来。不知为什么，梅格隐隐觉得他们并非特别有教养，也并非特别聪明，虽然他们衣着华丽，其实内中也不过俗人一个而已。生活奢侈，乘坐豪华辇车，每天穿上漂亮衣服，除享乐之外一无所事，这种生活自然十分惬意。这正是梅格所思慕的生活。她很快便模仿身边那些人的言谈举止，摆点小架子，装点腔势，说话时搭上一句半句法语，把头发卷曲，把衣服弄窄，并学着评论流行服式。安妮·莫法特的漂亮东西她见得越多，就越是羡慕不已，自叹不如。如今家在她的心目中已经变得空无一物、沉闷无趣，工作变得比任何时候都要艰苦。她觉得自己是个一贫如洗、受到严重伤害的姑娘，即使有两对新手套和丝袜也无济于事。
不过，她并没有多少时间来烦恼，因为三位年轻姑娘忙于打发"快乐时光"。她们整天逛商店、散步、骑马、探访朋友，晚上则上剧院或留在家里嬉戏，因为安妮结交了不少朋友，熟谙待客之道。她的几个姐姐都是十分漂亮的年轻女子，一个已经订婚，而订婚是极为有趣而浪漫的，梅格想。莫法特先生是个体胖、快活的老绅士，认识她的父亲；莫法特太太，一位体胖、快活的老太太，跟自己的女儿一样十分喜欢梅格。一家人全都宠爱她，”黛茜"，如他们所称，被惯得有点头脑发热。
临到"小型晚会"那天晚上，她发现那件府绸裙子根本应付不了场面，因为其他姑娘们全都穿着薄薄的裙子，个个打扮得美若天仙；于是塔拉丹出动了，但跟莎莉簇新的裙子一比，立即相形失色，显得残旧不堪、寒酸落伍。梅格看到姑娘们扫了它一眼后，都互相交换个眼色，双颊顿时烧得通红。她虽然性格温柔，但自尊心极强。大家对此并没有说什么，不过莎莉主动提出跟她梳理头发，安妮帮她扎腰带，贝儿，那位订了婚的姐姐，则称赞她洁白的双臂。虽然大家全出于好意，但梅格看到的只是对贫穷的怜悯而已。她独自站立一旁，心情十分沉重，而姑娘们则又说又笑，像披着薄纱的蝴蝶一样到处跑来跑去。正当梅格心酸难受之际，女佣人突然送进来一箱鲜花。未等她说话，安妮已把盖子打开，众人随即发出一阵惊呼，原来里头装的全是绚丽的玫瑰、杜鹃和绿蕨。
“准是送给贝儿的，乔治常常送她一些，不过这些可真是太美了，”安妮叫道，深深地闻了一下。
“那位先生说，这些花是送给马奇小姐的。这里有张字条，”女佣人插话说，并把字条递给梅格。
“多有趣，是谁送来的？不知道你还有个情人呢，”姑娘们嚷起来，围着梅格转来转去，显得十分好奇和惊讶。
“字条是妈妈写的，鲜花是劳里送的，”梅格简单地回答，暗暗感激劳里没有忘掉自己。
“噢，原来如此！”安妮怪模怪样地说了一句。梅格把字条塞进口袋，把它当作一种抵御妒忌、虚荣和伪自尊的护身符。里头寥寥数语，一片慈爱真情，梅格看后精神为之一振，而美丽动人的鲜花也使她心情好转起来。
梅格几乎恢复了愉快的心情，她拈出几支绿蕨和玫瑰留给自己，随即将其余的分成几把精美的花束，分给朋友们点缀在胸前、头发和衣裙上。
她做得既愉快又得体，大姐卡莱拉不禁称她为"她所见到的最甜美的小东西"，众人也十分欣赏她的小心意。这一善举把她的沮丧心情一驱而散。其他人都跑到莫法特太太跟前展览去了，她独个儿把几支绿蕨插在自己的鬈发上，又把几朵玫瑰在裙子上别好，这时裙子在她心目中变得没有那么难看了，临镜一照，看到了一张喜气洋洋双目明亮的脸孔。
那天晚上她尽兴起舞，玩得十分开心；大家都非常友善，她还被人奉承了三次。安妮让她唱歌，有人称赞她声音十分甜美。林肯少校问"那位水灵灵的美目小姑娘" 是谁，莫法特先生坚持要和她跳舞，因为她"不躲懒、舞步轻快有力"，他很有风度地说。这一切都使她的心情十分愉快，不料，她后来不经意听到了几句闲话，情绪顿时一落千丈。那时她正坐在温室里面，等舞伴给她带冰块过来，突然听到花墙的另一面传来一个声音问道- “她有多大？”“十六七岁吧，我想，”另一个声音答道。
“这将对那些姑娘们的其中一个大有好处，你说是吧？莎莉说他们现在关系很密切，老人挺宠爱他们。”“马奇太太早有计划，我敢说，而且一定马到功成，虽然这事早了一点，那姑娘显然还没有往这方面想过，”莫法特太太说。
“她刚才撒了个小谎，好像真的知道纸条是她妈妈写的；鲜花送进来时还飞红了脸。可怜的人！如果她打扮得时髦一点，一定漂亮极了。你说如果我们提出借条裙子给她星期四穿，她会生气吗？”另一个声音问。
“她是有点傲气，但我不相信她会介意，因为那条邋遢的塔拉丹就是她的一切。她大可今天晚上把它撕破，那就有借口给她送条体面的了。”“走着瞧吧。我要特意为她邀请小劳伦斯，那我就有好戏看了。”这时梅格的舞伴走回来，看到她脸红耳赤，情绪相当激动。她确实是个傲气的姑娘，也幸亏如此，她才忍住了没有发作，虽然她对刚才听到的闲话感到又羞又气、十分厌恶；因为无论她多么天真无邪，也不至于不明白这种闲话的意思。这些话挥之不去，一直在她耳边纠缠：什么"马奇太太早有计划"，”撒了个小谎"，”邋遢的塔拉丹"，等等。她真想大哭一场，冲回家去倾诉苦恼，寻求忠告。无奈这是不可能的事，她只得强装笑脸。由于心情激动，她一点也没有露出破绽，没有人想象得出她心里正在翻江倒海。终于盼到人散灯灭，她静静躺在床上，千思百想，愤愤不平，一直弄得脑袋生痛，又洒下几滴清泪，凉丝丝地落在烧得赤热的脸颊上。那些没有恶意的无聊话为梅格开辟了一个新天地，把她一直以来孩子般生活着的纯真、平静的旧天地搅得涟漪阵阵。她和劳里天真无邪的友谊被无意听来的废话蒙上了一层阴影；她对妈妈的信心也因以小人之心度人的莫法特太太 "早有计划 "几个字而产生了一点动摇；她原以为自己是穷人家的女儿，衣着简朴乃是无可非议的事情，所以一向知足，岂料这帮姑娘看到旧裙子就如同看到普天之下最大的灾难一样，滥发同情之心，她不禁也对自己的信念产生了一丝怀疑。
可怜的梅格一夜无眠，起床时眼皮沉重，心情极坏。她既怨自己的朋友无事生非，又愧自己不敢坦诚说出真相，以正视听。那天早上姑娘们全都慵慵懒懒，直到中午时分才提起劲头做毛线活。梅格马上意识到她的朋友们神色异常；她们待她更加敬重，对她的言谈十分关注，并且用十分好奇的眼光看着她。这一切令她既惊奇又得意，只是丈二和尚摸不着头脑。最后，贝儿把头从书本里抬起来，嗲声嗲气地说 “黛茜，亲爱的，我给你的朋友劳伦斯先生送了一份请帖，请他星期四过来。我们也想认识认识他，这可是特意为你而请的哟。”梅格红了脸，但她突然想捉弄一下这些姑娘们，于是装作一本正经地回答：“你们的心意我领了，只是我恐怕他不会来。”“为什么，ｃｈéｒｉｅ？”贝儿小姐问。
“他太老了。”
“我的孩子，你说什么？他究竟有多大年纪？”卡莱拉小姐嚷道。
“差不多七十吧，我想，”梅格答道，假装数数打了多少针，拼命忍住笑。
“你这狡猾的家伙！我们指的当然是年青的那位，”贝儿小姐笑了，喊道。“哪里有什么年青人！劳里只是个小男孩。”姑娘们听到梅格这样形容自己的所谓“情人"，不禁互相使了古怪的眼色，梅格见状也笑了。
“和你年纪相仿，”南妮说。
“和我妹妹乔差不多年纪，我八月份就十七岁了，”梅格把头一仰，答道。
“他真棒，给你送鲜花，对吧？”不识趣的安妮还想试探下去。
“不错，他经常这样做，送给我们全家人，因为他们家里多的是，而我们又这么喜欢鲜花。我妈妈和劳伦斯是朋友，你们知道，两家孩子在一起玩是相当自然的事情。”梅格希望她们能够就此住口。
“显然黛茜还没有参加过社交，”卡莱拉小姐朝贝儿点点头说。
“是天真无邪得可以，”贝儿小姐耸耸肩说道。
“我准备出门给我家姑娘们买点东西；各位小姐要我捎点什么吗？”穿着一身镶边丝绸裙子的莫法特太太像头大笨象一样缓缓走进屋来，问道。
“不用费心了，夫人，”莎莉回答，”我星期四已经有一条粉红色的新丝绸裙子，不想要什么了。”“我也不 "梅格话到嘴边又缩了回去，因为她突然想到自己确实想要几样东西，但是却得不到。
“你那天穿什么？”莎莉问。
“还是那条白色的旧裙子，要是我能把它补得能见人的话，昨晚可惜给撕破了。“梅格想尽量讲得自然一点，但却感到很不自在。
“为什么不捎信回家再要一条？”不善察颜观色的莎莉问。
“我只有这一条，”梅格好不容易才说出这话。
但莎莉仍然没有明白过来，她友好地惊叫起来：“只有那么一条？真好笑 ”她的话只说了半截，因为贝儿赶紧朝她摇头，插进来友善地说 “这并没有什么好笑；她又不出去社交，要这么多衣服有什么用？即使你有一打，黛茜，也不必往家里要。我有一条漂亮的蓝色真丝裙子，我穿着嫌小了些，白白搁在一边，倒不如你来穿上，遂遂我的心意，好吗，亲爱的？”“谢谢你的好意，但如果你们不在意，我倒不在乎穿我的旧裙子，像我这样的小姑娘这样穿挺合适，” 梅格说。
“请您一定让我把你打扮得气派一点。我喜欢这样做。装点一番后，你准是个标准的小美人。我要把你装扮好才让你见人，然后我们像参加舞会的灰姑娘和仙姑一样突然出现在大家面前，”贝儿用富有说服力的声调说。
梅格无法拒绝如此友好的提议，因为她很想看着自己打扮后是否会变成个"小美人"，于是点头同意，把原来对莫法特一家的不满抛诸脑后。
星期四晚上，贝儿把自己和女佣关在房里，两人合力把梅格变成一个绝代佳人。她们把她的头发烫曲，在她的颈脖和胳膊扑上一种香粉，在她的双唇抹上珊瑚色的唇膏，使它们显得更红，如果不是梅格反抗，霍丹斯还会加上"一点点胭脂“。她们把她裹进天蓝色的裙子里，裙子又紧又窄，她几乎透不过起来，领口开得极低，矜持的梅格对着镜子羞得红晕满脸。一套银丝首饰也被戴上了：手镯、项链、胸针、甚至耳环，因为霍丹斯用一条看不出来的粉红色丝线把它们系了起来。一丛点缀胸前的香水月季花蕾和一条花边褶带衬得梅格一双玉肩优美动人，一对高跟蓝色丝靴也使她的最后一道心愿得到满足。一条镶边手帕、一把羽毛扇和一束银枝礼花，终于把她打扮完毕。贝儿小姐满意地审视着自己的杰作，就像一个小姑娘在看一个刚刚打扮好的洋娃娃一样。
“小姐真Ｃｈａｒｍａｎｔｅ，ｔｒèｓｊｏｌｉｅ，不是吗？”霍丹斯为做作地拍手欢叫。
“出去让大家看看吧，”贝儿小姐一边说一边领梅格去见在房间里等着的姑娘们。
梅格拖着长裙跟在后面，裙子窸窣有声，耳环一摇一晃，鬈发上下波动，心儿砰砰猛跳。刚才那面镜子已明明白白地告诉她自己是个"小美人"，她觉得似乎她的" 好戏"真的已经开始了。朋友们热情洋溢，不断地称她为"小美人"，她站在那里，好像寓言里的寒鸦，尽情享受着自己借来的羽毛，起他人则像一班喜鹊，叽叽喳喳地叫个不停。
“趁我换衣裳，南妮，你教她怎样走步，别让她被裙子和法式高跟鞋绊倒。卡莱拉，你用银蝴蝶发夹把她左边的那绺长鬈发夹起来。你们谁也别弄糟了我这一手漂亮功夫，”贝儿说着匆匆走开，对自己的成功显得相当得意。
“我不敢走下去，我觉得头晕目眩，身子僵硬，好像只穿了一半衣服，”梅格对莎莉说。此时铃声响起，莫法特太太派人来请年轻女士们立即赴会。
“你完全变了个样子，不过这样很漂亮。我在你身边简直没地方站了，都亏贝儿品味高，当然你也很有法国味。就让你的花儿这么随意挂着，小心不要绊倒，“莎莉回答，努力不去在意梅格比自己漂亮这个事实。
梅格牢牢记着这个教导，安然步下楼梯，款款走进客厅。
莫法特夫妇和几个早到的客人已经聚集在那里。她很快发现华丽的衣服有一种魅力，就是能吸引那么一些人，获得他们的尊敬。几位以前没有正眼瞧过她的年轻小姐突然变得十分亲热；几个上次舞会只是盯着她看的年轻绅士现在不只盯着她看，还要求介绍介绍，而且向她极尽奉承，说了许多愚不可及但十分入耳的话；几位坐在沙发上指指点点的老太太感兴趣地打探她是何方人氏。梅格听到莫法特太太回答其中一个说 “黛茜·马奇- 父亲是部队的上校 -我们的远亲，可惜时运不济，你知道；劳伦斯家的密友；甜姐儿，告诉你吧；我家内德对她很是着迷哩。”“噢！”那老太太戴上眼镜把梅格又再细看一遍。听到莫法特太太谎话连篇，梅格只装作好像没有听见，也并不震惊。
那种"头晕目眩"的感觉仍然没有消失，但她想象自己正在扮演这一新角色，倒也觉得相当愉快，不过，她的两胁被紧身裙勒得隐隐作痛，双脚不断踩到长裙，还老得提防那对耳环，担心它们突然甩出来，弄丢或摔破了。她正手摇折扇，咯咯笑着听一位卖弄诙谐的年轻人讲并不好笑的笑话，突然止住了笑声，显得手足无措，原来，她看到劳里正站在对面。他紧紧地盯着她，毫不掩饰心中的惊愕，还有不快，她想，因为他虽然躬身致礼，面露微笑，但坦诚的眼睛却流露出一种眼光，令她羞红了脸，只恨没有穿上自己的旧裙子。她看到贝儿用肘子碰碰安妮，两人的目光从她身上扫到劳里身上，更加心乱如麻，幸亏劳里看上去孩子气十足，而且十分害羞，她这才安下心来。
“无聊的东西，把这种念头放进我脑子里。我可不在乎，该怎样做就怎样做。“想到这里，梅格一路窸窸窣窣地响着走到房间对面和她的朋友握手。
“你来了我真高兴，我还担心你不会来呢，”她摆出一副大姐姐的神态说。
“乔希望我来，并告诉她你的情况，我便来了，”劳里回答，他对她那副老成持重的腔调感到有点好笑，但并不正眼看她。
“你会告诉她什么呢？”梅格问。她很想知道劳里对自己的看法，然而却第一次觉得在他面前很不自然。
“我会说我不认识你了，因为你看上去这么成熟，一点都不像你自己，我挺害怕的，”他摸着手套上的钮扣，说道。
“你真荒谬！这些姑娘们把我打扮成这个样子，只是为了好玩，我也挺乐意的。你说乔看到我会不会把眼睛瞪直了呢？”梅格说，想引他说出他是不是觉得自己更好看。
“我想她会，”劳里严肃地回答。
“你不喜欢这个样子吗？”梅格问。
“不，不喜欢！”回答得干脆率直。
“为什么不？”声调甚为着急。
他扫了一眼她那披着鬈发的脑袋、裸露的双肩，以及镶着漂亮花边的裙子，那种神情把她窘得无地自容，接着他的回答也一反往日彬彬有礼的风度。
“我不喜欢轻浮炫耀。”
这话出自一个比自己年轻的小伙子口里，叫梅格如何接受。她转身就走，一面恨恨地说道：“我从来没有见过你这样无礼的男孩子。”她又气又恼地走到一扇窗边，站在无人之处，让自己的双颊凉下来，因为紧身裙箍得她头热脑胀，很不舒服。这么呆站着时，林肯少校从她身边走过，不一会儿，她听到他跟他自己的母亲说道- “他们在愚弄那个小姑娘；我原想让你见见她的，但他们把她全毁了；今天晚上一无是处，只是一个洋娃娃。”“唉，上帝！”梅格叹息道，“如果我理智一点，穿上自己的衣服，就不会令人厌恶，也不会生出这般烦恼，自惭自愧。“她把额头靠在冰凉的窗棂上面，任由窗帘半掩着自己的身影，她最喜欢的华尔兹已经开始，她也仿佛全然不觉。这时，一个人碰碰她；她回过身来，看到了劳里。他一脸悔色，郑重其事地向她鞠了个躬，伸出手来 “请恕我一时无礼，来和我跳个舞吧。”“恐怕这会委屈了你呢。”梅格试图装出一副生气的样子，却一点也装不出来。
“绝对不会，我打心眼里想跟你跳呢。来吧，我不会惹你生气的。我虽然不喜欢你的衣服，但我真的觉得你- 反正漂亮极了。”他挥挥手，似乎语言还不足以表达他的仰慕之情。
梅格一笑，心软了下来。当他们站在一起等着和上音乐节拍时，她悄悄说道：“小心我的裙子把你绊倒了；它使我受尽折磨，我穿上它真是个傻瓜。”“把它围着领口别起来就行了，”劳里说着，低头看看那双小蓝靴，显然对它们很满意。
他们敏捷而优雅地迈开舞步，由于在家里练习过，这对活泼的年轻人配合得相当默契，给舞场平添了快乐的气氛。他们欢快地旋转起舞，觉得经历了这次小口角之后，彼此更加接近了。
“劳里，我想你帮我个忙，愿意吗？”梅格说。她刚跳一会便气喘吁吁地停下来，也不解释，劳里便站在一边替她扇扇子。
“那还用说！”劳里欣然回答。
“回到家里千万不要告诉她们我今天晚上的打扮。她们不会明白这个玩笑，妈妈听到会担心的。”“那你为什么这样做？”劳里的眼睛显然是在这样问。梅格急得又说 “我会亲自把一切告诉她们，向妈妈'坦白'我有多傻。
但我宁愿自己来说；你别说，行吗？”
“我向你保证我不会说，只是她们问我时该怎样回答？”“就说我看上去挺好，玩得很开心。”“第一项我会全心全意地说的，只是第二项怎么说？你看上去并不像玩得开心，不是吗？”劳里盯着她，那种神情促使她悄声说道- “是，刚才是不开心。不要以为我那么讨厌。我只是想开个小玩笑，但我发现这种玩笑毫无益处，我已经开始厌倦了。”“内德·莫法特走过来了，他想干什么？”劳里边说边皱起黑色的眉头，仿佛并不欢迎这位年轻主人的到来。
“他认下了三场舞，我想他是来找舞伴的。烦死人！”梅格说完摆出一副倦怠的神情，把劳里也逗乐了。
他一直到晚饭时候才再跟她说上话，当时她正跟内德和他的朋友费希尔一起喝香槟。劳里觉得那两人表现得"十足一对傻瓜"，他觉得自己有权像兄弟一样监护马奇姐妹，必要时站出来保护她们。
“如果你喝多了，明天就会头痛得厉害。我可不这样做。
梅格，你妈妈不喜欢这样，你知道，”他在她椅边俯下身来低声说道，此时内德正转身把她的杯子重新斟满，费希尔则弯腰捡起她的扇子。
“今天晚上我不是梅格，而是个轻狂的'洋娃娃'。明天我就会收拾起这副'轻浮炫耀'的嘴脸，重新做个好女孩子，”她佯笑一声答道。
“那么，但愿明天已经到来，”劳里咕哝着，怏怏走开了。
看到她变成这副样子，他心里很不高兴。
梅格一边跳舞一边调情卖俏，嘀嘀咕咕地聊着傻笑着，就像别的姑娘们一样；晚饭后她跳华尔兹舞，由始至终跌跌撞撞，那条长裙子也差点把她的舞伴绊倒。劳里见到她这种轻蹦乱跳的模样心生反感，他一边看着，心里想好了一番忠告，但却没有机会告诉她，因为梅格总是躲着他，一直到他过去道晚安为止。
“记住！”她说道，勉强笑笑，因为剧烈的头痛已经开始了。
“Ｓｉｌｅｎｃｅàｌａｍｏｒｔ，”劳里回答，使劲挥挥手，转身离去。
这小小的一幕激发了安妮的好奇心，但梅格累得不想再扯闲话，她走上床，觉得自己像参加了一场化装舞会，但却玩得并不开心。她第二天整天都昏昏沉沉，星期六就回家了。
两个星期的玩乐弄得她筋疲力尽，她自觉在那"繁华世界"已经呆得太久。
“安安静静，不用整天客套应酬，这才是令人愉快的日子。
家是个好地方，虽然它并不华丽，”星期天晚上梅格跟母亲和乔坐在一起，悠然四顾，说道。
“你这样说我很高兴，亲爱的，我一直担心你经过这番阅历后会把家看得又穷又闷，”妈妈答道。她那天不时担心地望一眼女儿，因为孩子们脸上的任何变化都逃不过母亲的眼睛。
梅格快乐地跟大家讲了她的经历，并一再说她玩得十分痛快，但她的情绪似乎仍然有点不对劲。当两个
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