“It must be exciting to have a large family,” said Ruth with a tinge of longing in her voice.

“It is; desperately exciting,” said Charlotte drily.  “Now I call this luxury,” she added, dropping down on the fur rug.  “Just imagine having a place like this where you can be absolutely alone with books and pictures and fire.  You’re a lucky girl, Ruth.”

“It’s a perfectly dear room, and I love it,” added Ruth.  “It was so good of all of you to help plan it before you even knew me.  Let’s make some fudge, girls,” she added.  “Who’s the best fudge-maker here?”

“Not I,” answered Charlotte lazily.  “I’m second to none on eating it, though.”

“Dolly’s fudge is great,” said Betty.

“You make it then, Dorothy, and I’ll help when your arm gets tired,” said Ruth, getting the chafing-dish from the shelf under the table.  “We’ll put the cups on the mantel, girls, and cover the table with this enamel cloth that Mrs. Hamilton gave me this morning.  Isn’t she a dear?  She thinks of everything to make me have a good time.”

“Have you got much acquainted with Arthur yet?” asked Dorothy, who was busily mixing the ingredients for the candy.

“Haven’t seen him since the day I came,” answered Ruth, looking at Betty with a twinkle in her eye, “and I certainly didn’t get very well acquainted with him then.”

“It’s a shame that he shuts himself up; he’s just about breaking his mother’s heart,” declared Dorothy, stirring the savory mixture with unnecessary vehemence.

“He used to be great fun, and we miss him dreadfully at all our parties,” said Betty with a sigh.  “He isn’t even willing to see Frank and Joe, and they used to be such chums.”

“We might form ourselves into a society for ’The Restoration to the World of Arthur Hamilton, Esquire; T.R.T.T.W.O.A.H.E.’:  wouldn’t that make a fine name for a secret society?” said Charlotte, who hadn’t stirred from the rug.  “Don’t you want me to help you make the fudge, girls?” she added amiably, as Dorothy and then Ruth gave it a vigorous beating.

“Thank you, lazybones.  It’s done now.  But you can help put things in order,” said Dorothy slyly.

Charlotte groaned.  “You know that’s what I hate most of all.  I should rather have made the fudge.”

“Speaking of societies,” broke in Betty, who had been in a brown study for several minutes, “let’s have a club of some kind.”

“Good idea, Bettikins,” approved Charlotte.  “Let’s make it a dramatic club, and I’ll do the heroes.”

“With only four in the club you would have to be hero and villain and the heroine’s white-haired father all in the same play,” said Ruth with a laugh.  “It would take all the rest of us to play the other parts.”

“I mean really a nice club,” continued Betty, pursuing her own idea with great seriousness, “and meet once a week and do something.”

“Rather vague, that,” murmured Charlotte.  “If that’s all there is to it we’re a club now.”