Miss Sawyer timidly complied with the president's request, reading from a neatly written manuscript of daintily tinted and perfumed notepaper, the sheets of which were fastened together by a pale green ribbon. When Miss Sawyer had finished, the committee on rules presented their report in the form of a constitution and by-laws, which were accepted without debate. Then Mrs. Tweedie suggested that committees on ethics, art, literature, and the Lord knows what, be appointed. It was done. Everything that Mrs. Tweedie desired came to pass. She was in the clouds; never, even in her dreams, had she thought such power possible. For an hour the meeting progressed, and during that time Mrs. Stout, for some unfathomable reason, remained silent. When she did rise to speak, she addressed the chair in such a perfectly proper manner that, for a moment, the ladies thought that by some strange process she had become civilized. "Ladies," she said, "I'm treasurer of this club, and I've been doin' a lot of thinkin' since our last meetin'. We've got to have some money, and it'll take for ever and a day for dues at ten cents a month to amount to anything. We've got to run some kind of a show to raise money. This ethical and e-comical business is all right, but what we want now is dollars!" "A very good suggestion," replied Mrs. Tweedie, who was feeling amiable enough at that moment even to agree with one whom she disliked. The ladies murmured their approval. "The chair awaits suggestions," continued Mrs. Tweedie. Upon that they, the suggestions, came like an avalanche--everything was proposed from a spelling-match to military whist. But Mrs. Tweedie frowned upon them all; only something new to Manville would suit her. She desired above all things to get as far away as possible from the provincial ways of the town. "Whatever we give will cost something," remarked Mrs. Darling. "We can't spend any money if we haven't got any," squeaked the deacon's wife. "Assuredly not," replied Mrs. Tweedie. "The question is--" "Why not settle this money business first," interrupted Mrs. Stout. "Mis' Darling says we've got to spend money whatever we do. I say we ain't, what we've got to buy we can get trusted for--everybody else does." "Very true," said Mrs. Doctor Jones, warmly, "they do, and sometimes for a long time." The wives of the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker looked as though they would like to say "amen." Others moved uneasily, until Mrs. Tweedie came to the rescue. "The question is," she said, firmly, "what sort of an entertainment shall be given, not how we are to pay for it." "Madam President," some one said from a corner. "Mrs.--er--" Mrs. Tweedie craned her neck to see who had spoken. "Oh, Mrs. Thornton." "What would the ladies say to theatricals?" asked the woman with a baby. "Good!" exclaimed Fanny Tweedie. "A play, the very thing, what a sweet idea." "Fanny," said her mother, reprovingly, yet she liked the idea herself.