"I can't do it, ma'm," said Dora, her face very red.
"Call Mr. Tweedie," Mrs. Tweedie commanded. "One of those windows shall be opened!"
Dora hurried from the room, and then Mrs. Stout laughed irritatingly.
"Tell us, pray," said Mrs. Tweedie, haughtily, "the cause of your mirth."
"You must excuse me, ladies," Mrs. Stout began, but another burst of laughter that she could not control prevented her from continuing for several minutes. "It struck me as awful funny that we should come here to get up a woman's club, and then have to call in a man the first thing," she explained.
"Were not the other sex created physically stronger than woman because it was intended that they should perform just such labour?" Mrs. Tweedie asked quickly, but before Mrs. Stout had time to reply Mr. Tweedie came into the room.
"How can I serve you, ladies?" he asked as he bowed low and smiled.
"Open a window, please," said Mrs. Tweedie.
"Certainly, my dear," Mr. Tweedie replied as he went to a window, and, without any apparent effort, raised it. "There you are," he said, smilingly. "Anything else to-day?" (Once upon a time Mr. Tweedie had been a salesman in a dry goods store.)