d.

Pauline sat down in one of the wide window places. "I'm not sure it
might not take in both. It is--'The Seeing Winton First Club.'"

Josie looked as though she didn't quite understand, but Tom whistled
softly. "What else have you been doing for the past fifteen years, if
you please, ma'am?" he asked quizzically.

Pauline laughed. "One ought to know a place rather thoroughly in
fifteen years, I suppose; but--I'm hoping we can make it seem at least
a little bit new and different this summer--for Hilary. You see, we
shan't be able to send her away, and so, I thought, perhaps, if we
tried looking at Winton--with new eyes--"

"I see," Josie cried. "I think it's a splendiferous ideal"

"And, I thought, if we formed a sort of club among ourselves and worked
together--"

"Listen," Josie interrupted again, "we'll make it a condition of
membership, that each one must, in turn, think up something pleasant to
do."

"Is the membership to be limited?" Tom asked.

Pauline smiled. "It will be so--necessarily--won't it?" For Winton
was not rich in young people.

"There will be enough of us," Josie declared hopefully.

"Like the model dinner party?" her brother asked. "Not less than the
Graces, nor more than the Muses."

And so the new club was formed then and there. There were to be no
regular and formal meetings, no dues, nor fines, and each member was to
consider himself, or herself, an active member of the programme
committee.

Tom, as the oldest member of their immediate circle of friends, was
chosen president before that first meeting adjourned; no other officers
were considered necessary at the time. And being president, to him was
promptly delegated the honor--despite his vigorous protests--of
arranging for their first outing and notifying the other members--yet
to be.

"But," he expostulated, "what's a fellow to think up--in a hole like
this?"

"Winton isn't a hole!" his sister protested. It was one of the chief
occupations of Josie's life at present, to contradict all such
heretical utterances on Tom's part. He was to go away that fall to
commence his studies for the medical profession, for it was Dr. Brice's
great desire that, later, his son should assist him in his practice.
But, so far, Tom though wanting to follow his father's profession, was
firm in his determination, not to follow it in Winton.

"And remember," Pauline said, as the three went down-stairs together,
"that it's the first