"I don't like cooking," said Charlotte soberly, "but I suppose it
wouldn't hurt me to know something about it."

"The first thing, of course, is to ask our mothers and Mrs.
Hamilton," said Dorothy, who was always practical. "I know mamma
will be glad to have me learn, though I'm afraid the cook won't
like to have us in her kitchen."

"Our Hannah wouldn't mind if you met at our house every time," said
Betty.

"That can all be settled later when we find out whether we can
really do it," declared Charlotte impatiently. "In the meantime
I'm pining for a piece of that fudge; isn't it hard yet, Dolly?"

"Just right," answered Dorothy, taking it in from the window-ledge.

"Dorothy, this is certainly the best fudge I ever tasted," declared
Ruth impressively. "Mine was never half so good. Girls, I move
that in consideration of Miss Dorothy Marshall's skill as a maker
of fudge she be made president of the new club."

"Second the motion," cried both the girls at once, and as there
was no one left to vote on it, it was declared settled.

Dorothy rose, bowed, tapped on the table with the chafing-dish spoon,
and said with a fair imitation of her mother's stately manner:

"Ladies, I thank you for the honor you have conferred upon me."