"Oh!" said Dimbie politely.
"We call ourselves the Sesameites."
It sounded so like a tribe of Israel that I wanted to laugh, but Dimbie's face checked me.
"We are a little club for self-improvement. We exchange views, opinions, thoughts. We help each other like the——"
"Buffaloes," came a voice from the neighbourhood of the couch, but it was certainly not mine. It belonged to Amelia, who stood behind me regarding Mrs. Winderby with parted lips.
"Amelia!" I said.
"Amelia!" echoed Dimbie.
"My brother's a buffalo," she said defiantly, while turning a little red. "I though p'r'aps he belonged to the same club as this lady, as she says it's to help one another. You put in so much money a week, and then when you's ill you——"
"That will do," I said when I could get a word in. "You can remove the tray."
She walked unwillingly to the house, and we turned apologetically to our guest.