This calling upon Lillie Bell was a stroke of finesse on the part of Nathalie. For Lillie, when she had learned that the club was to be so democratic that the daughter of her newsdealer, a Russian Jew, had been invited, had loftily declared that although she was a good American, and wanted to do all she could for liberty, well, she didn’t know that she cared to chum with all the Jews in the town.
Nathalie had been keenly alive to the desirability of having Lillie a member, because she was not only bright and efficient, but because she was such a good entertainer. This declaration of Lillie’s, however, had caused her spirits to fall below zero, and she began to fear that the whole thing would prove a fizzle. But when so many girls had responded to her invitation, all keyed to expectant curiosity—Lillie among them—her spirits had taken a leap into the nineties. Immediately her alert mind had begun to plan in what way, and how, she could interest Lillie in the club, so that she would take an active part in its doings. And here was her chance.
Lillie Bell, with her usual timely poise, gracefully and smilingly rose to the occasion. In her most luring manner she not only repeated Mrs. Morrow’s speech, but interpreted it with such a stirring American spirit, that not only was Nathalie electrified, but the whole audience were inspired to such a pitch of enthusiasm that they broke into hearty applause.
As soon as the clamor subsided, Nathalie cried earnestly, “Now that we all know what liberty means, and the possibilities that lie before us, I propose that we form ourselves into a club to be known as ‘The Liberty Girls.’”
Another outburst of approval brought the speaker to a halt, but only for a moment, and then she went on smilingly, “Well, I am glad that you like the name, for it means something.” Then she briefly told of the seventeen young girls, who, over a hundred and fifty years ago, had formed a club called “The Daughters of Liberty.”
“They did their bit,” smiled the girl, “by sewing all day on homespun garments to prove that the colonies could be independent of the mother-country, and swore that they would drink no tea until the tax had been removed. They also declared that they would have nothing to do with any of their young gentlemen friends who dared to drink the detested beverage.
“But, girls,” said Nathalie rather hurriedly, as she stepped from behind the little table, “if we are to form ourselves into a club, we shall have to have a chairman, for although the idea originated with me, that does not mean that you have got to have me for a leader,” she ended modestly.
“But we don’t want any one but you,” called out some one enthusiastically, which cry was so emphatically echoed by others, that Nathalie stood hopelessly bewildered, a wave of color dyeing her face a rose-pink.
But in this crucial moment Helen came to her rescue, and jumping on her feet cried,—even Lillie, Grace, and Edith bobbed up too,—“Girls, I make the motion that we form ourselves into a club to be known as ‘The Liberty Girls,’ and that we elect for president, Miss Nathalie Page. All in favor of this motion stand up!”
There was a quick, simultaneous movement of many feet, and then, as Helen sensed that Nathalie had been duly elected leader by her mates, she called out, “Well, Nathalie, you will have to be president, for every one wants you.”