“I don’t doubt but that you’d be glad to comfort him—if I was dead,” sobbed the president. “If this is all I am to get for keeping you at peace during the meetings, I’ll just resign, and let you run the club to suit yourselves. And a p-pretty mess you-you’ll make of it!” And she retired behind her handkerchief. “I’ll resign, too, this very minute,” said the girl with the Roman nose. “I knew just how it would be when Dorothy asked me to join the club, but—” “You were afraid to refuse, lest something happen, and you didn’t know all about it,” finished the blue-eyed girl. “Well, I wish to tender _my_ resignation from the club, to take effect at once.” “And so do I,” said the girl with the dimple in her chin. “And I,” said the girl with the classic profile. “I, too,” said the girl with the eyeglasses. “W—why, then, there’s nobody left!” exclaimed the blue-eyed girl, gazing about the room in astonishment. “Oh, w—what will all the men of our set say when they hear of this!” she wailed. “I never thought of that!” said the girl with the Roman nose. “I know well enough, though, without thinking,” she added. “They will say that women never _can_ agree among themselves,” sobbed the girl with the dimple in her chin, “and they will keep on saying it, in spite of the fact that it is a baseless libel!” “Of—of course, I am not an—angry, only hurt,” sobbed the president. “I am not angry at all,” said the blue-eyed girl, “only distressed that the others—” “I’m sure I—I haven’t a hard feeling against any—anybody,” wailed the girl with the dimple in her chin. “Nor I,” said the girl with the classic profile. “Mercy, no,” said the girl with the eyeglasses. “If anybody is sorry for having hurt my feelings, I am quite ready to forgive it,” said the girl with the Roman nose. “And so am I,” said the brown-eyed blonde. “Then, I don’t see that any of us need resign,” said the president. “Does anybody remember the topic under discussion?” “‘The Pioneer New Woman,’” said the blue-eyed girl, “and a very interesting topic it is, I’m sure.” “Hear, hear,” said the girl with the Roman nose, as she tucked her handkerchief into her belt. “One thing is always a mystery to me,” said the girl with the dimple in her chin; “why does no female creature ever acknowledge that she is a new woman until she is quite an old one?” “Oh, well, by that time her years will entitle her to a seat in a street car, even if she wears bloomers,” thoughtfully replied the president. “Who really _was_ the pioneer new woman?” asked the girl with the classic profile. “Eve; although, she did not call herself by that name, I believe,” returned the blue-eyed girl. “So far as I can see, the new woman is just like all the rest of us—she wants to get everything she can out of the world, and give as little as possible in return.”