But argumenting and coaxing were in vain, and when Jeanette turned in at her own gate, the other two said good-by and went on toward their homes.
“Whatever made Jeanette so angry when I offered to give her a dress?” exclaimed Betty as soon as she and Dorothy were alone.
“Why, you goose, of course she wouldn’t accept a dress from anybody! You ought to have known that the mere mention of such a thing would offend her!”
“But I don’t see why. I’d love to give it to her.”
“It would hurt her pride too much. Don’t you see, the Porters are not at all well off,—I don’t mean quite poor, but I mean they have to scrimp to get along,—but they’re fearfully proud. Jeanette would be quite willing to say she couldn’t afford a new frock, but she’d die before she’d let any one give her one.”
“Well, I think that’s silly. Just because I happen to have more money than she has, is the very reason I ought to give her a dress.”
“It does seem so,” admitted Dorothy, “but it isn’t so, and don’t you ever propose it to her again, for it won’t be a bit of good, and it only makes her angry.”
“Well, I won’t, then, but won’t it be horrid not to have Jeanette at the reception? It takes all the fun out of it for us, I think.”
“Yes, I think so, too; and look here, Betty, don’t you tell anybody the reason why Jeanette’s not coming. She told us, of course, but she knew we wouldn’t tell.”
“Didn’t she tell Miss Whittier?”