“Half-way? Do you suppose, Emily Marshmallow, that after allowing Clarence Lighthed to bore me almost to death for two weeks, I shall be willing to go half-way to make up with Jack?” “But you said the other day that unless you _did_ make up with him, you would learn to be a trained nurse and devote your life to others, and I thought—” “Never mind what I said the other day—that was before I knew how jealous Jack was. And all I’ve got to say, is this: if you expect me to make a fright of myself in a gray cloak and bonnet and cotton gown just to please _you_, you are very much mistaken!” The girl with the eyeglasses put her head in at the door, “Come into the club-room right away, girls,” she said. “Evelyn is here, and she has something of the greatest importance to tell us.” The president was evidently excited as she called the meeting to order. “I am just as angry as I can be,” she said. “What do you think I found in my mail to-day? A letter from a man who is old enough to know better, suggesting a topic for discussion by this club. That topic was, ‘The Best Method of Keeping the Hat on Straight.’” “You don’t say so!” said the girl with the Roman nose. “Well, it only shows that our mental advancement has made him uneasy.” “Of course,” said the president. “Then, as if that was not enough, he suggests a small mirror fastened to the inside of an umbrella or parasol as—” “Pshaw!” said the brown-eyed blonde, “a highly polished silver handle answers the same purpose and attracts less attention.” “Talk about hats,” said the girl with the classic profile, “men are just as fussy about their own. Did you ever see anybody put on a man’s hat to suit him?” “Never,” said the president. “I had an awful time when Tom’s arm was broken. I would put on his hat as carefully as I could—he always would tip it too far back himself—and yet, each time he would remove it, look suspiciously into the crown, and put it on again himself.” “As if it makes any difference how a man looks, anyhow,” said the girl with the eyeglasses. “So long as they are nice and generous, no girl cares—” “Very true,” broke in the girl with the dimple in her chin, “and it is frequently the pocket of a last year’s overcoat which harbors the largest box of candy.” “I should like to know how a man manages to keep his hat on without veil or pins,” said the girl with the Roman nose. “He doesn’t always do it in a high wind,” said the girl with the classic profile. “And yet he always wonders why a woman holds her hat on when she is driving,” remarked the girl with the dimple in her chin. “You know what a fuss men always make about big theater hats,” said the president. “Well, thinking to please Tom, I got a tiny bonnet, which was so becoming that it attracted as much attention as a regular mountain of feathers and velvet.” “And wasn’t he pleased?” asked the girl with the eyeglasses.