Annie's older sisters, Belle and Clara, were fine young ladies; Mr Moffat was a fat, friendly gentleman; and Mrs Moffat was a fat, friendly lady. They were all very kind to Meg and did their best to make her feel at home.

"What fun! Who are they from?" said the girls. "We didn't know you had a young man."

Annie Moffat did not forget her promised invitation, and one April day Meg went to stay at the Moffat's large house. Meg thought it was wonderful. She loved riding in fine carriages, wearing her best dress every day, and doing nothing except enjoy herself. She soon began to talk about fashionable clothes and hairstyles in the way that the other girls did. And the more Meg saw of Annie's pretty things, the more she wished that she, too, was rich.

When the evening for a 'small party' came, Meg's best dress looked very old next to Sallie's new one, but no one said anything about it. The girls were getting ready when a servant brought in a box of flowers.

"For Miss March," she said. "And here's a letter."

"The letter is from Mother and the flowers are from Laurie," said Meg, simply.

"Oh," said Annie, with a strange look.

Her mother's loving words and Laurie's kindness made Meg feel much happier and she enjoyed the party very much.

"Sixteen or seventeen, I think," said another voice.

Annie made her sing, and someone said that Meg had a fine voice. So Meg was having a nice time -- until she heard some one say, on the other side of a large table of flowers: "How old is the Laurence boy?"

"It would be an excellent thing for one of those girls," said a third voice. "Sallie says they are very friendly, and the old man thinks they are all wonderful."

Meg tried to forget what she'd heard, but could not. The gossip made her angry, and she was unhappy when the party was over and she was alone in her bed. She cried quietly to herself. Why did people have to say those things? She and Laurie were just friends, but now that friendship felt damaged by the unkind gossip.

"I expect Mrs M. has made her plans," said Mrs Moffat's voice, "but do you think the girl knows of them?"

"She told that little lie about her mother, and her cheeks went pink. I'm sure the note was from the boy really. Poor thing! She'd be very pretty if she had some nice clothes. Do you think she'll mind if we offer to lend her a dress for Thursday?"

"I shall ask young Laurence to come, and we'll have some fun with her afterwards."

"Nearer Jo's," said Meg. "I'm seventeen in August."

"You're very kind, but --," began Meg.

"He often does, to all of us," said Meg. "My mother and old Mr Laurence are friends, you know."

"No others?" said Sallie. "How funny --"

"My white dress again, I haven't got any others."

Meg couldn't refuse this kind offer and, on the Thursday evening, Belle helped to change Meg into a fine lady. She brushed and curled her hair, reddened her lips, then helped her to get into the sky-blue dress. The neck of the dress was cut very low, and Meg was quite shocked when she saw herself in the mirror. A necklace and earrings were added, and Meg was ready for the party.

"There isn't one," said Meg. "Laurie is only a boy."

"It's nice of him to send you flowers," said Annie.

"What will you wear on Thursday?" asked Sallie.

Meg pretended to misunderstand. "You're very kind, but I'm afraid he won't come. He's nearly seventy."

"Isn't he about your age?" said Clara.

The next day, Miss Belle said, "Meg, dear, we've sent an invitation to your friend, Mr Laurence, for Thursday."

"Please, do," said Belle. "You'll look quite beautiful in it."

"I have a pretty blue dress I can't wear any more, Meg," said Belle. "It will please me if you wear it."

Miss Belle laughed. "I mean the young man."

At first, she felt strange in all the fine clothes, but she soon discovered that people who did not usually notice her now came to speak to her. Several young men who had only stared before now asked to be introduced.

"I'll say I didn't know you, because you look so unlike yourself. I'm quite afraid of you," he said.

Suddenly, Meg saw Laurie across the room. He was staring at her, and he didn't look very pleased. Meg began to feel uncomfortable, and she wished that she had worn her old dress. As she walked up to Laurie, she saw Belle and Annie watching them both and smiling.

"Jo wanted me to come and tell her how you looked," said Laurie.

"I'm glad you came," Meg said to Laurie, in her most grown-up voice. "I was afraid you wouldn't."

"What will you tell her?"

Meg became angry. "Then I shan't stay with you!" And she walked off towards the window.

"No, I don't," came the cool reply.

"The girls dressed me up for fun," said Meg. "Don't you like it?"

A moment or two later, an older man went past her and she heard him say to his friend, "That girl has been dressed up like a doll."

Meg tried to look annoyed.

Meg danced and laughed and talked to as many young men as she could manage, but went to bed feeling that she hadn't enjoyed herself as much as she had expected.

Meg smiled and found it impossible to stay angry with him. "Please don't tell them at home about my dress," she said. "They won't understand that it was just for fun, and it will worry Mother. I was stupid to wear it, but I'll tell them myself."

"I won't say anything," he promised.

"I'm not Meg tonight," she said. "I'm a doll who does crazy things. Tomorrow, I'll be good again."

She was sick all the next day, and on Saturday went home, quite tired of her fortnight's fun.

"Please come," he said again. "I don't like your dress, but I do think you are -- wonderful."

She turned and saw Laurie behind her. "Please forgive me," he said. "Come and have something to eat."

"You'll feel ill tomorrow, if you drink much of that, Meg," Laurie whispered to her.

He did not see her again until supper time, when she was drinking wine with two other boys.

"Oh dear," thought Meg. "Why didn't I wear my own things?"

"I'm glad to be home," she said to her mother and Jo, after telling them how she was dressed up like a doll, drank too much wine, and was ill afterwards. She had laughed while telling them the story, but her face still looked worried at the end.

"Yes," Meg said slowly. "I hate people saying and thinking awful things about us and Laurie." Then she told them the gossip she had heard.

"There is something else, I think," said Mrs March, smoothing Meg's cheek, which suddenly became rose-red.

"What rubbish!" said Jo. "Just wait until I see Annie Moffat! How stupid to think that Mother has 'plans', and that we are kind to Laurie because he is rich and may marry one of us one day. He'll laugh when I tell him!"

"No, Jo," said her mother. "You must never repeat wicked gossip."

"All mothers do, dear," said Mrs March. "But my plans are different from Mrs Moffat's, I suspect. I want my daughters to be loved, and I want people to think well of them. I want them to marry well, but not to marry rich men just because they are rich. I'd rather you were poor men's wives, if that meant you had happy, peaceful lives. But your father and I believe that we'll always be proud of our daughters, whether they are married or single."

"You will, you will!" said Meg and Jo, together.

"Do you have 'plans', Mother?" asked Meg.