their go-in we'll write every single thing down in the
Golden Deed book, and we'll draw two lines in red ink at the bottom,
like father does at the end of an account. And after that, if any one
wants to be good they can jolly well be good on our own, if at all."

The ones who had made the Society did not welcome this wise idea, but
Dicky and Oswald were firm.

So they had to agree. When Oswald is really firm, opposingness and
obstinacy have to give way.

Dora said, "It would be a noble action to have all the school-children
from the village and give them tea and games in the paddock. They would
think it so nice and good of us."

But Dicky showed her that this would not be _our_ good act, but
father's, because he would have to pay for the tea, and he had already
stood us the keepsakes for the soldiers, as well as having to stump up
heavily over the coal barge. And it is in vain being noble and generous
when some one else is paying for it all the time, even if it happens to
be your father. Then three others had ideas at the same time and began
to explain what they were.

We were all in the dining-room, and perhaps we were making a bit of a
row. Anyhow, Oswald, for one, does not blame Albert's uncle for opening
his door and saying:

"I suppose I must not ask for complete silence. That were too much. But
if you could whistle, or stamp with your feet, or shriek or
howl--anything to vary the monotony of your well-sustained
conversation."

Oswald said, kindly, "We're awfully sorry. Are you busy?"

"Busy?" said Albert's uncle. "My heroine is now hesitating on the verge
of an act which, for good or ill, must influence her whole subsequent
career. You wouldn't like her to decide in the middle of such a row that
she can't hear herself think?"

We said, "No, we wouldn't."

Then he said, "If any outdoor amusement should commend itself to you
this bright midsummer day--"

So we all went out.

Then Daisy whispered to Dora--they always hang together. Daisy is not
nearly so white-micey as she was at first, but she still seems to fear
the deadly ordeal of public speaking. Dora said:

"Daisy's idea is a game that'll take us all day. She thinks keeping out
of the way when he's making his heroine decide right would be a noble
act, and fit to write in the Golden Book; and we might as well be
playing something at the same time."

We all said "Yes, but what?"

There was a silent interval.

"Speak up, Daisy, my child," Os