“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.