“Not necessarily,” put in Clare.
Pickering pounced for him, but instead of sitting on him, his long figure doubled up in the big chair, while the secretary slipped neatly out.
“Ha, ha! did you ever get left?” giggled Clare, at a safe distance.
“Many a time, my dear child,” said Pickering coolly, leaning back restfully, “but never in such a good seat. Thank you, Mr. Secretary. Proceed, Prexy.”
“Good for you, Pickering,” cried Alexia, while the laugh went around.
“Order!” cried Jasper, pounding away. “Now that our troublesome secretary is quieted, I will proceed to say that as we want the plan to succeed, we invited the Salisbury Club this evening.”
“Thank you, Mr. President,” the girls clapped vigorously.
“So now after I tell you of the object, I want you to express your minds about the various plans that will be laid before you.” Then Jasper told the story of Jim, the brakeman; and how Grandpapa and Polly and he had gone to the poor home, thanks to the little clerk; and how the three boys who were waiting for education and the girl who was crazy to take music-lessons, to say nothing of the two mites of children toddling around, made the poor widow almost frantic as she thought of their support; until some of the girls were sniffling and hunting for their handkerchiefs, and the boys considerately turned away and wouldn't look at them.
“Now you tell the rest, Polly,” cried Jasper, quite tired out.
“Oh, no, you tell,” said Polly, who dearly loved to hear Jasper talk.