"Leave it to me," cried Rosalie blithely. "I can do most of the talking. And Arthur is so sensible you won't have to talk. Just sit back and look wise, and he will think you are wonderful. And Bob is lots of fun, and--oh, it will be easy." The rest of the afternoon passed comfortably enough getting ready for the evening, and the girls had told the boys good night, and gone up-stairs before Rosalie remembered that Alicia was a bore. When they went into their room for the night, she turned Alicia's face to the light and scrutinized the bright quiet eyes, and the flushed but still placid face. "Marvels will never cease," she said solemnly. "I am not sensible, I don't want to be sensible, I don't even believe in sense, and I talk all the time, and the silliest talk I can think of--but that perfectly dignified sober Arthur Gooding, who is a 'post,' fell for me like a flash, head over heels. And he was invited for you! And you sat back in a corner saying as near nothing as possible, but that irrepressible Bob Harton could not keep three feet away from you all evening, and never took his eyes off your face once. Come now, 'fess up. Did he make a date with you?" "Three--one for to-morrow, and two for next week," admitted Alicia, smiling softly. "Isn't he funny and bright?" Rosalie turned her back, and stared up at the ceiling. "Well," she said at last, "I always have thought you quiet girls were dangerous, if you ever get started." Alicia came over to her suddenly, and said, "Thank you for getting me started. I had a lovely time. I thought you did not like me, Rosalie. You'll forgive me, won't you?" Rosalie flung her arms impulsively around Alicia's shoulders. "I had a lovely time myself. And I do like you--but I shall try to forgive you, if you never do it again," she said virtuously. But as they were getting into bed, she said suddenly, "Isn't that Zee the shrewd one, though?" And Alicia wondered what Zee had to do with the question in hand. CHAPTER VIII THE BISHOP Doris went to bed very early in the first place, a thing she firmly resolved never to do again under any circumstances. Zee and Treasure were soundly and sweetly sleeping. Father had gone, in the car, to some very formal and dignified affair where there were to be two college presidents and a Methodist bishop, and no one ever knows when to expect folks home if there is a bishop in it. Rosalie was spending the evening with one of her friends, and just an hour ago had telephoned that she was going to spend the night, and Doris should not wait up for her. So in the face of all that, there was nothing for Doris to do but go to bed. But she could not sleep. She tossed and tumbled, and finally, after counting both sheep and stars long and persistently, and after repeating to herself all the soothing and sleep-provoking poetry she could think of, she did fall into a troubled slumber.