This gave each an office with the exception of Martha, and as soon as Betty saw how things were going, she calmly created an office for her friend. “I nominate Martha Taylor for auditor,” she said, in her most decided way. “What’s that?” asked Lena. Now Betty wasn’t quite sure herself what an auditor was, or whether it was a usual office in a club, but she didn’t care. It made an official title for Martha, and so kept her from feeling slighted. “An auditor?” responded Betty, airily. “Oh, that’s the one who looks over the books and accounts of all of us, to see if we’ve added up right, and all that.” This wasn’t a specially pleasing idea to the treasurer and the two secretaries, but they understood Betty’s determined expression, and they submitted with good grace. So matters went on pleasantly, and Martha was greatly elated at being chosen to fill what she considered a most important office. “But I don’t always add right myself,” she said conscientiously. “Never mind; I’ll help you,” said Betty, smiling at her. “Now, girls, for a name. I don’t like a high-sounding name. Let’s have something plain and straightforward.” “The Fresh Air Fund Club,” suggested Lena. “The Fresh Air Club is shorter,” said Constance. “The Fresh Club is shorter yet,” said Dorothy, laughing, “and the boys will call us that, anyhow, when they hear about it.” They decided on “The Fresh Air Club,” and then, all business matters being settled, they proceeded to plan their first entertainment. “Let’s have something really nice,” said Martha. “We can get Hetherton’s Hall to hold it in, without paying anything. My uncle is one of the managers, and I know he’d let us have it for a charity.” This was a most advantageous offer, and, had it come from any one else, it would have been hailed with enthusiasm. As it was, nobody said much, except Betty, who exclaimed: “Why, Martha, that will be fine! If we don’t have to pay for the hall, we can make a lot of money, for that’s generally the biggest item.” “Yes,” agreed Constance; “all the things to sell will be given to us, or we’ll make them ourselves. You mean a sort of fair, don’t you, Betty?” “Yes; only a special kind, you know—a bazaar, or something like that.” “What is a bazaar?” asked Martha, with such an air of blank ignorance that Constance frowned at her. “A bazaar,” began Lena, “why, a bazaar is—it’s just a bazaar. Anybody knows what a bazaar is.” “Oh,” said Martha, not much enlightened, but realizing that she was supposed to be. “Lena didn’t explain it very clearly,” said Betty laughing. “I’m not sure I know the difference myself between a bazaar and a fair.” “Neither do I,” said Constance; “I think they’re about the same, only bazaar is the new-fashioned name.” “And a bazaar is bigger,” said Dorothy, “more elaborate, you know, with booths and flags and things like that.” “And you dress up in costumes at a bazaar,” added Jeanette.