write? Why?' Mrs. Potter was rather sadly aware that she made no appeal
to the twins. But then, as Clare reminded her, the twins, since they had
gone to Oxford, never admitted that they cared for any books that normal
people cared for. They were like that; conceited and contrary.

To change the subject (so many subjects are the better for being changed,
as all those who know family life will agree) Jane said, 'Johnny and I
are going on a reading-party next month.'

'A little late in the day, isn't it?' commented Frank, the only one who
knew Oxford habits. 'Unless it's to look up all the howlers you've made.'

'Well,' Jane admitted, 'it won't be so much reading really as observing.
It's a party of investigation, as a matter of fact.'

'What do you investigate? Beetles, or social conditions?'

'People. Their tastes, habits, outlook, and mental diseases. What they
want, and why they want it, and what the cure is. We belong to a society
for inquiring into such things.'

'You would,' said Clare, who always rose when the twins meant her to.

'Aren't they cautions,' said Mrs. Frank, more good-humouredly.

Mrs. Potter said, 'That's a very interesting idea. I think I must join
this society. It would help me in my work. What is it called, children?'

'Oh,' said Jane, and had the grace to look ashamed, 'it really hardly
exists yet.'