CHAPTER FOURTEENTH

THE ARDEN FORESTERS

“Like the old Robin Hood of England.”

“Article I. This Society shall be called ‘The Arden Foresters,’” read Maurice.  “That will do, won’t it?”

“Yes; and then let’s put the object.  It doesn’t come next in this, but we shan’t need so many articles,” Rosalind answered, running her finger down the page of a blue bound book.

The committee appointed to draw up a constitution for The Arden Foresters had set about it with great seriousness.  Their surroundings may have had something to do with this, for their papers were spread out on the leather-covered table in the directors’ room at the bank, immediately under the eye of a former president, whose portrait hung over the mantel-piece, while the large-faced clock on the wall gave forth its majestic “tick, lock.”

The blue book which was serving as a model, Rosalind had found on her aunt’s table, and asked permission to use.

“Well, then, ’Article II.  The object of this Society shall be, To remember the Secret of the Forest; to bear hard things bravely; to search for the ring—­’ Anything else?”

“Maurice, that is beautiful.  Is there anything else?” Rosalind pressed her lips with a forefinger.

“Belle wanted to have ‘to help the needy,’ or something of the kind.”

“The down-trodden,” said Rosalind, laughing.  “I don’t like that, do you?”

“Let’s wait; we may think of something after a while.  Where shall we meet?  That might come next.”

“Under the trees at the Gilpin place, and when it rains we can go to Patricia’s Arbor.  What fun it would be to have a meeting in the rain!” A great pattering on the window-pane emphasized Rosalind’s remark.

Maurice wrote busily for a minute, looking up to ask, “What day shall we meet?”

“Let’s not say any day, and then we can do as we choose,” Rosalind suggested, feeling that the restrictions of a constitution might be burdensome.

Article III then read:  “This Society shall hold its meetings at the Gilpin place.”

“Maurice, here are qualifications for membership.  Ought we to have that?”

“I don’t know; what are they?”

Rosalind bent over the book, “Let me see—­’Intelligence, character, and—­’ such a funny word.  ‘R e c i p r o c i t y’; what is that?”

Maurice looked over her shoulder, “‘Rec—­’ Oh, I know, ‘reciprocity.’”

“What does it mean?” Rosalind asked.

“I think it is something political.”

“Then we don’t want it.”

However, as there was a dictionary in the room, it was thought best to consult it.

“Here it is, ‘mutual giving and returning,’” Maurice announced, when he found the place.

“‘Giving and returning,’” Rosalind repeated; “Maurice, look for ‘mutual.’”

“It means almost the same thing,’ something reciprocal, in common,’” he said presently.