have a Bacon club, which you shall join. It is a most delightful club, and
you will like it, I'm sure. I fancy that in a few weeks I shall see you
devouring Bacon with intense enjoyment."

Indeed I won't, thought Patty. She was about to say that her Uncle Robert
belonged to a Terrapin Club, but refrained, thinking it might be impolite
to imply disparagement to the more lowly bacon.

So she changed the subject, and said:

"Please, Cousin Tom, tell me something of your family. It's so queer to go
to see people and not know anything about them beforehand. But so far, my
relatives have been very nice."

"Oh, the Flemings are a wonderful family," said Cousin Tom, gaily, "we are
all going to do something great, but somehow we haven't hit it off yet."

"Cousin Elizabeth is an author, isn't she?" inquired Patty, a little
timidly, for she had never seen a real, live author.

"Yes," said Mr. Fleming, "Elizabeth is an author, that is, she writes
novels when she isn't doing anything else; Barbara is a club woman, but she
writes too, more or less."

"And what do you do? Are you literary?"

"Yes, I'm writing a book, myself. It's a treatise on The Will, and I
flatter myself I have some novel theories; and then there's Ruth, you
know."