The platform recalled a "tournament of roses," and,
sternly important among all that fragrant loveliness, sat Mrs. Dankshire
in "the chair" flanked by Miss Torbus, the Recording Secretary, Miss
Massing, the Treasurer, and Mrs. Ree, tremulous with importance in her
official position. All these ladies wore an air of high emprise, even
more intense than that with which they usually essayed their public
duties. They were richly dressed, except Miss Torbus, who came as near
it as she could.
At the side, and somewhat in the rear of the President, on a chair quite
different from "the chair," discreetly gowned and of a bafflingly serene
demeanor, sat Miss Bell. All eyes were upon her--even some opera
glasses.
"She's a good-looker anyhow," was one masculine opinion.
"She's a peach," was another, "Tell you--the chap that gets her is well
heeled!" said a third.
The ladies bent their hats toward one another and conferred in flowing
whispers; and in the gallery eager confidences were exchanged, with
giggles.
On the small table before Mrs. Dankshire, shaded by a magnificent bunch
of roses, lay that core and crux of all parliamentry dignity, the gavel;
an instrument no self-respecting chairwoman may be without; yet which
she still approaches with respectful uncertainty.
In spite of its large size and high social standing, the Orchardina Home
and Culture Club contained some elements of unrest, and when the yearly
election of officers came round there was always need for careful work
in practical politics to keep the reins of government in the hands of
"the right people.
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