“Then that settles it!” cried Marjorie. “I’ll write tomorrow and invite ourselves.”
“But how do you know when to set the date for?” asked Florence.
“We’ll have to work it all out by mathematics,” replied the latter. “There’s a lot of planning to be done, and equipment to be bought. We’ll have to name a committee.”
“I propose you as chairman,” said Lily, immediately. “Because you’re our lieutenant—and you can pick your own committee.”
“I second that motion!” exclaimed Ethel.
Just at this point Marjorie’s brother commenced to chuckle to himself, as if he were enjoying some private joke.
“Tell us, Jack, so we can have some fun,” suggested Ethel.
“Oh, it’s nothing!” replied Jack. “Only—well, I don’t want to be a kill-joy, or anything like that, you know; but I just couldn’t help but think how funny it would be if somebody were playing a practical joke on you all.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Marjorie.
“Why, suppose you went ahead and made all your plans and bought a lot of things, and then found out in the end that the letter was all a joke—”