“Do you mean that I can’t have my usual three slices of lemon?” demanded Katherine indignantly.
“Hush, material-minded one,” admonished Nita. “There’s more than tea and lemon in this. There’s a great secret. Of course we shall be interested in it. Fire away, Betty.”
“And everybody stop watching the kettle,” commanded Babbie, who had taken it in charge, “and then perhaps it will begin to boil.”
“What I wanted to tell you,” began Betty, impressively, “is that Miss Hale is going to be married this vacation.”
“Good for Miss Hale!” cried Bob, throwing up a pillow. “Did her sister get well?”
“Yes,” said Betty. “She was dreadfully ill all summer, and then she had to go away for a change. Ethel wanted to wait until she was perfectly strong, because she had looked forward so to being maid-of-honor.”
“I think we ought to send Miss Hale a present,” said Babe, decisively. “Madame President, please instruct the secretary—— Why, we haven’t any president now,” ended Babe in dismay.
“Let’s elect Betty,” suggested Nita.
“She’s too young for such a responsible position,” objected Bob. “It’s only the dramatics committee that takes infants.”
“And besides, her hair curls,” added Madeline, reaching out to pull one of the offending ringlets. “Curly-haired people don’t deserve to be elected to offices.”