"'Madame President,' says she, 'as I understand it this fits in all right. What we're proposing is to spend Sodality's money on this little boy just the same as though he was dead. I move we do so.'
"Two-three of 'em seconded it, but scairt and scattering.
"'Mis' Toplady,' says Mis' Sykes. 'Ladies! This is a good deal too headlong. A committee'd ought—'
"'Question—question,' demands Mis' Emmons, serene, and she met my eye and smiled some, in that little we-understand look that can pierce through a roomful of people like the wind.
"'Mis' Emmons,' says Mis' Sykes, wildish. 'Ladies! Sodality has been organized over twenty years, doing the same thing. You can't change so offhand—' You can't help admiring Mis' Sykes, for she simply don't know when she's beat. But this time she had a point with her, too. 'If we want to vote to amend the constitution,' she said, 'you've got to lay down your wishes on the table for one week.'
"'I daresay you have,' says Mis' Emmons, looking grave. 'Well, I move that we amend the constitution of this society, and I move that we do it next week at the open annual meeting of the Sodality.'
"'Second the motion,' says I, with my feet on my white bedspread.
"And somehow the phrase caught Christopher's ear, like a tune might to march by.
"'Second a motion—second a motion!' he chants to himself, standing by Mis' Toplady's knee.