"Rather vague, that," murmured Charlotte. "If that's all there is to it we're a club now."
"What's your idea, Betty?" asked Dorothy encouragingly. "Anything but sewing. I utterly refuse to join that kind of a club."
"I knew a girl in Chicago," said Ruth, "who belonged to a cooking club. They met every two weeks at the different houses to practice, and once in two months they cooked a supper and invited other girls and boys. She said they had great fun and really learned a great deal."
"That's just my idea," declared Betty promptly, "only I couldn't get it quite clear in my own mind."
"I don't like cooking," said Charlotte soberly, "but I suppose it wouldn't hurt me to know something about it."
"The first thing, of course, is to ask our mothers and Mrs. Hamilton," said Dorothy, who was always practical. "I know mamma will be glad to have me learn, though I'm afraid the cook won't like to have us in her kitchen."
"Our Hannah wouldn't mind if you met at our house every time," said
Betty.
"That can all be settled later when we find out whether we can really do it," declared Charlotte impatiently. "In the meantime I'm pining for a piece of that fudge; isn't it hard yet, Dolly?"
"Just right," answered Dorothy, taking it in from the window-ledge.
"Dorothy, this is certainly the best fudge I ever tasted," declared Ruth impressively. "Mine was never half so good. Girls, I move that in consideration of Miss Dorothy Marshall's skill as a maker of fudge she be made president of the new club."