“What are Altruists?” asked in humble tones a small and rosy-cheeked boy.
“They are only people who try to help others,” replied Frances; and this simple explanation, given with a gentle sincerity of voice and manner, seemed to satisfy everybody. Indeed, everybody present at a fairly representative meeting of the Woodend young folks became an Altruist on the spot.
“What have we got to do?” said the rosy-cheeked boy anxiously.
“Sign our names in the book of the Society and keep the rules,” said Florry Fane. “Frances must sign hers first, because she’s the founder of the club.”
“Florry and I have written down the rules we thought might do,” said Frances modestly, “Florry is going to read them out, and then if any boy or girl will suggest improvements we shall be very much obliged.”
But nobody wished to improve the excellent rules drawn up by Frances and Florry. The words in which the Altruist Code was expressed were few, and so well chosen that no careless member could pretend either to have forgotten or to have misunderstood.
In becoming an Altruist everybody undertook to do his or her very best to lighten the loads of dwellers within or without the gates of happy Woodend homes. This was an ambitiously comprehensive scheme, but nothing less thorough would suit Frances and her allies. Nor did they intend that their new club should exist only on paper; and so their rules provided that by appropriate deeds alone could a continued membership be ensured.
The boys and girls were so truly in want of a fresh sensation to give zest to their holiday hours that they were in some danger of riding their new hobby-horse to death. The Altruists grew in number and flourished exceedingly. They found their parents ready with approval and support; and when they had passed through an embryo stage of rash philanthropic excitement, they settled down into a capital club, whose motto of “Help Others” was something more than a vain boast. Of course the new Society must have funds—how otherwise provide for necessary outlay? Members loyally sacrificed a percentage of pocket-money, which was liberally reinforced—at the instigation of Mrs. Morland—by adult subscriptions. The mothers of young Altruists searched their cupboards for old linen, blankets, and clothing, wherewith to start the Society’s stores. The fathers promised that appeals for fruit and flowers should have their best consideration. Dr. Brenton sent word through Max that he would accept as a “gratis” patient any sick person tended and cared for by an Altruist. Mrs. Morland, well pleased that Frances should enjoy the prestige owing to a founder, sent for a carpenter, and desired him to make any alterations the children might order, with the view of rendering their playroom satisfactory Headquarters for their club.
As soon as the Carlyons came home, Muriel was waited on by a deputation of her girls, who wanted her to be Honorary President of the Altruists. Miss Carlyon was very ready to agree, and to give Frances credit for a really bright idea.
“I don’t see why your club shouldn’t do ever such great things for the Woodend poor folk,” declared Muriel warmly. “I shall be proud to be one of you, and so will my brother; and you must count on us for all the help we can give.”