It had been decided that any member might call a meeting, and the method was suggested by Belle. In each garden a spot was selected,—an althea bush at the Partons', a corner of the hedge at the Roberts's, a cedar near the gate at the Whittredges',—in which the summons, a tiny roll of paper tied with grass, was to be deposited.
On the morning appointed for this meeting of The Arden Foresters, Celia Fair, knowing nothing about it, of course, had just settled herself in the arbor with a cushion at her back and her work-basket beside her, when Rosalind looked in. She carried a book and a bunch of leaves, and she seemed surprised to find the summer-house occupied. Her manner was hesitating as, after saying good morning, she asked if Miss Fair had seen Maurice or Belle.
"No; are you expecting them? Won't you come in and sit down while you wait?" Celia asked, noticing the hesitation.
"I wonder what they have told her about me?" was her thought. It brought a flush to her face, and yet why did she care?
Rosalind accepted the invitation shyly. "I must be early," she said. "I was to meet the others here at ten, but I went to drive first with grandmamma."
"It is still ten minutes of ten," Celia said, looking at her watch. "Are you going to have a picnic?"
"No; only a meeting of our society."
"What sort of a society?" Celia asked.
"A secret society," Rosalind replied, with a demure smile.
"Oh, is it? That sounds interesting, but I suppose I can't know any more. What is your book? That isn't part of the secret, is it?"