"Well," whispered Mrs. Flint, "Mrs. Tweedie is a lovely woman, but—"
"My experience is," interrupted Mrs. Stout, "that all boys have got just so much bad and noise in 'em, and if it don't come out one way 'twill another."
This interesting chatter was cut short by the return of Mrs. Tweedie.
"Ladies," she said, "I must again apologize for an irritating interruption. As I suspected, Dora was wholly to blame. She had the audacity to tell me that Thomas attempted to steal cake. The idea, my son steal, and with such blood in his veins."
"Folks that have boys must expect 'em to make some trouble," said Mrs. Stout, and then turning to Mrs. Flint, added, "I hear that your Willie's come home from college."
"Yes," replied Mrs. Flint, as a pink flush spread over her face, "William has returned, and is soon to enter upon a mercantile career."
"Drivin' a wagon, or a job in the factory?" asked Mrs. Stout, innocently. Mrs. Flint became red with rage, Miss Sawyer was disgusted, and Mrs. Tweedie mentally vowed that Mrs. Stout should be gotten rid of, because if she continued saying things there was no telling at what moment the club would fly to pieces.
"It don't make much difference what a boy works at," Mrs. Stout continued, wholly unaware of the passion that she had aroused, "so long's he don't do anything mean. I saw Willie Flint goin' by my house this mornin'—he was walkin' with Miss Wallace, too, if anybody'd like to know, they made a nice lookin' couple—and I must say that he's a fine lookin' feller, too fine lookin' to follow in his father's footprints. But there, we're 'way off the track, ain't we?"
"We have digressed slightly," replied Mrs. Tweedie, with icy sarcasm. "Our next business will be the selection of a name for our organization. Suppose that each of us suggest a name, beginning with you, Miss Sawyer."