“That doesn’t matter, it’s just the name of the paper, you know.  And it sounds so gay and jolly.”

“I like it,” declared King, and so they all agreed to the name.

“Now, my courtiers and noble friends,” said their Queen, “it’s time we all scooted home to luncheon.  My queen-dowager mother likes me to be on time for meals.  Also, my majesty and my royal sand piper can’t come back to play this afternoon.  But shall this court meet to-morrow morning?”

“You bet, your Majesty!” exclaimed Tom, with fervor.

“That isn’t very courtly language, my Grand Sandjandrum.”

“I humbly beg your Majesty’s pardon, and I prostrate myself in humble humility!” And Tom sprawled on his face at Marjorie’s feet.

“Rise, Sir Knight,” said the gracious Queen, and then the court dispersed toward its various homes.

“Well, we had the greatest time this morning you ever heard of!” announced Marjorie as, divested of her royal trappings and clad in a fresh pink gingham, she sat at the luncheon table.

“What was it all about, Moppets?” asked Mrs. Maynard.

So King and Marjorie together told all about the intrusion of Hester on their celebration, and how they had finally taken her into the Sand Club as a member.

“I think my children behaved very well,” said Mrs. Maynard, looking at the two with pride.

“I did get sort of mad at first, Mother,” Marjorie confessed, not wanting more praise than was her just due.

“Well, I don’t blame you!” declared King.  “Why, that girl made most awful faces at Mops, and talked to her just horrid!  If she hadn’t calmed down afterward we couldn’t have played with her at all.”

“I’ve heard about that child,” said Mrs. Maynard.  “She has most awful fits of temper, I’m told.  Mrs. Craig says that Hester will be as good and as sweet as a lamb for days,—­and then she’ll fly into a rage over some little thing.  I’m glad you children are not like that.”

“I’m glad, too,” said King.  “We’re not angels, but if we acted up like Hester did at first we couldn’t live in the house with each other!”

“Her mother is an actress,” observed Marjorie.

“Oh, no, Midget, you’re mistaken,” said her mother.  “I know Mrs. Corey, and she isn’t an actress at all, and never was.  But she is fond of amateur theatricals, and she is president of a club that gives little plays now and then.”

“Yes, that’s it,” said King.  “Hester said her mother had dramatic talent, and she had inherited it.  Have you dramatic talent, Mother?”

“I don’t know, King,” said Mrs. Maynard, laughing.  “Your father and I have joined their dramatic club, but it remains to be seen whether we can make a success of it.”

“Oh, Mother!” cried Marjorie.  “Are you really going to act in a play?  Oh, can we see you?”

“I don’t know yet, Midget.  Probably it will be an entertainment only for grown-ups.  We’ve just begun rehearsals.”