"We hope," replied Mrs. Tweedie, "to spend our time in the study and discussion of subjects which will be uplifting, that will make ourselves, and aid us in helping others, to be stronger, morally and intellectually."
"You don't mean it!" said Mrs. Stout, with mock gravity. "And when we ain't doin' that I s'pose we'll be talkin' about other folks and their businesses."
"I trust not," replied Mrs. Tweedie, much distressed. "Of course, some people are improperly interested in the affairs of others, but we hope that those so inclined will not become members of our club."
"Well, I hope so, too," said Mrs. Stout, with a suspicious twinkle in her eyes. "But it's hard, dreadful hard, Mis' Tweedie, to get a crowd of women folks together without some one sayin' somethin' about somebody that they wouldn't have said if she was there."
Mrs. Tweedie was as near to tears of mortification as a woman of her kind ever gets. She had never realized before how brutally truthful Mrs. Stout could be.
"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, abruptly changing the subject, "is Miss Wallace, the schoolteacher that boards with you, goin' to belong?"
"Yes," replied Mrs. Tweedie. "She is heartily in sympathy with us, but will not be able to attend many meetings because of her work."
"I'm real glad that she's goin' to join, I like her," said Mrs. Stout, simply, and she meant it. Miss Wallace was likable, but not many in Manville had discovered her good qualities. "There's somebody else!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, as she heard the bell which rang at that moment, and then added, quickly, "Excuse me, of course you don't go to the door when you have a girl."
A soft voice was heard asking for Mrs. Tweedie, and then the masculine tones of Dora inviting some one to come in.