"Miss Chairman," he began, rising to his feet.

The chair recognized him and bit into a chocolate.

"I move that our society be known as The Green Mouse, Limited."

"Why limited?" asked Sacharissa.

"Why not?" replied her sister, warmly.

"Well, what does your young man mean by limited?"

"I suppose," said Linda, "that he means it is to be the limit. Don't you,
William?"

"Certainly," said Destyn, gravely; and the motion was put and carried.

"Rissa, dear!"

The chair casually recognized her younger sister.

"I propose that the object of this society be to make its members very,
very wealthy."

The motion was carried; Linda picked up a scrap of paper and began to
figure up the possibility of a new touring car.

Then Destyn arose; the chair nodded to him and leaned back, playing a
tattoo with her pencil tip against her snowy teeth.