"Can't we help you?" asked Aleck politely, dropping down among the cushions on the couch.
"No, I thank you, and please have some mercy on my new pillow."
Ikey, who admired pretty things, rescued the dainty white and yellow pillow, and modestly helped himself to a footstool.
"Take the floor, Carl, it is the only safe place," murmured lazy Aleck.
"Somebody take it, please, and tell me the object of this call."
"We want to get even with the girls," began Carl, as his aunt leaned back in her chair, all attention.
"They think themselves so clever with their old club," said Aleck, his nose in the air.
"They are clever—quite as much so as boys." Aunt Zélie returned to her bills, and there was silence for a moment; then Ikey spoke:
"We thought it would be fun to have a club too, and not tell the girls the name. There isn't any harm in that, is there?" meekly.
"None whatever. What I do not like is that tone of lofty superiority. You do not realize how it sounds, and as I consider myself one of the girls I shall take such remarks as personal. Now tell me about the club; is it to be simply for fun?"