“Wasn’t that nice, Nan?” asked Jean, in the kitchen again. “Phoebe told me yesterday that Leigh is just shy, being new here this year, you know, and not knowing any of the girls before.”
“We-ell,” Nan replied, with a spoonful of the hot fudge to try it in a glass of cold water, “I do think that the Dudleys think pretty well of themselves, with that big place and all,—but I suppose, for that matter, all of our families do, and Leigh—gracious, Jean, this fudge is ready to come off! Is that the pan of cold water to set this in?”
The fudge cooling before being beaten, our two girls linked arms and ran upstairs to Jean’s room, where with many giggles Jean imparted her news to her friend. “Do you think it was so awful, Nan?” she asked. “I feel dreadfully guilty, yet I just did it on the spur of the moment and if you girls only do it, it will be a lot of fun.”
“Of course it will. I’m for it, Jean. Why haven’t we done it before?”
“But how about the name? Do you suppose—?”
“Oh, that will be all right. If I were you I’d tell them all about it. What is a secret society without a secret to keep? Jimmy has been awfully smart about his pin, and if we could keep it quiet about our plans—”
“Especially as we haven’t any,” laughed Jean.
“Yes, but they need not know that. Oh, there’s the doorbell! The girls are coming. I’ll slip down the back stairs and beat that fudge while you let them all in. But don’t do anything till I get there,—please!”
“Not a word, Nan. It shall remain a mystery till you come in. But don’t you want some help beating that fudge?”
“Not necessarily, Jean, but send anybody out you like.”