“They are play, if you enjoy them. Anything we enjoy is a recreation, and, therefore, pleasant.”
“You’re coming over this afternoon, you know, Mops; the Jinks Club meets here.”
“’Course I am, Delight. We’re all coming. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. Miss Hart said she’d help us. You know, my mother won’t let us rampage all over the house, as your mother does.”
“I know it,” said Marjorie, smiling to think of Mrs. Spencer’s carefully placed furniture and immaculately kept rooms, subjected to such invasions as frequently turned the Maynard house topsy-turvy.
“In fact,” Delight went on, “Mother says I can’t have the Jinks Club meet here, unless we promise to stay in just the two rooms—the library and dining-room.”
“All right,” assented Midget, cheerfully. “We can have plenty of fun in two rooms. Can’t we, Miss Hart?”
“Yes, I’m sure you can. Quiet fun, you know. And perhaps you’ll enjoy that—for a change, you know.”
“I know we’ll enjoy it, if you’re with us, Miss Hart,” and with a loving good-bye to the governess and to Delight, Midget scampered home.
“Oh, fiddlesticks!” said King, as, at the luncheon table, Marjorie told of the meeting of the Club that afternoon. “I don’t see any fun cooped up in two rooms. Why can’t we play outdoors?”