fficers."

Mrs. Conway smiled to hear all this grown-up talk, but she looked a
little serious a moment after.

Edna watched her face. "Don't you approve of it, mamma," she asked
anxiously.

"Of the club? Oh, yes, if it is the right kind of one. I will ask Celia
about it, but what I don't like is that you should start it in a spirit
of trying to get the better of another girl, though I can see that it
is the most natural thing in the world for you to feel as you do, and I
can see that Clara has really brought it on herself, but I do want my
dear little girls to be charitable and above the petty meanness that is
actuating Clara."

"Then what do you think we ought to do?"

"I am not sure. I shall have to think it over. In the meantime by all
means start your club. Where is Celia?"

"She went out with the boys to look at the new pigeons, but I wanted to
see you first."

Edna enjoyed the prospect of chicken and waffles too much to long too
ardently for the next day. She hadn't seen Cousin Ben yet so she went
out to hunt him up, but discovering that he was hard at work over his
studies she concluded not to disturb him but to go with the boys to hear
them expatiate upon the qualities of the new pigeons, of the trade they
had made with another boy and of various things which had been going on
at their school.

Great preparations were made for the first meeting of the club. In the
Evans house was a large attic, one corner of which Agnes and Celia
turned into a club-room. The house was an old-fashioned one, and the
attic window was small. There was, too, an odor of camphor and of soap,
a quantity of the latter being stored up there, but these things did not
in the least detract from the place in the eyes of the girls. What they
wanted was mystery, a place which was out of the way, and one specially
set aside for their meetings. A small table was dragged out of the
recesses of the attic. It was rather wobbly, but a bit of wood was put
under the faulty leg, and it did very well. One perfectly good chair was
brought up for the president, the rest were content to be seated on
whatever came handy, two chairs very much gone as to backs, one with the
bottom entirely through, and a rickety camp stool made up the remainder
of the furniture, but Agnes had taken care that there were flowers on
the table and that pens, pencils and paper were supplied. She also
brought up some books "to make it look more literary," she said, and the