“I didn’t have all the proofs,” returned Persis, “and I knew nothing less than cast-iron documents would satisfy this belligerent crowd. I was satisfied that Annis was a lovely, refined girl long ago, and should never have questioned her inherited right to be called a lady; but she told me all these things just to set me right with the club, although it went against the grain for her to do it. Bless her dear heart!”
“Of course we can’t refuse to admit her,” acknowledged Audrey, somewhat grudgingly. “There isn’t a loop-hole of escape, for her character is above reproach.”
“I should say so,” sniffed Persis. “And now I think this thing has gone far enough, so I propose that we extend our limits, since every one knows by this time that we are all grandees.” And she laughed good-humoredly. “I propose we let in any girls who have good, fiery, old Revolutionary stock to back them.”
“But that will include nearly every one of the girls,” objected Audrey.
“Suppose it does. What is it? the greatest good to the greatest number. If we make character the rock on which we split there will be no danger of our being contaminated.”
Silence again fell upon the company.
“Miss Adams says we can’t have the school-room to use if the club is going to cause so much dissension,” presently ventured Nellie Hall.
“And,” continued Persis, “my father says the Holmes girls are to resign in a body if the club is going to make them forget to be ladies and Christians.”
“Goodness!” cried Margaret Greene. “It’s getting to look serious. We’ll have to give in, girls. We’d better hold out the olive-branch. I second the motion for extending our limits and calling our club—what shall we call it?”
“Oh, dear! I don’t know,” replied Audrey, feeling that she had no ground to stand upon. “Just tack on Revolutionary and call ourselves Colonial and Revolutionary Maids. That will do.” And this was agreed upon, to the intense satisfaction of Persis.