Then Rosalie flashed into the hall and dropped on her knees, both hands outstretched, and cried, "Oh, sweet young sister, for the sake of my immortal beauty, may I--" "Rosalie!" "'Scuse me, General. Please, fair Zee, may I borrow this bonny blue ribbon to wear in my golden locks? And you'd better say yes, for I'm going to borrow it anyhow." Zee promptly pushed her over backward, and Rosalie leaped up and made a whirling rush at Zee, who tore into her own room, where Doris could hear them bouncing into the middle of the bed with a resounding spring--and then came stifled laughter, and squeals, and-- Doris ran breathlessly up the stairs. She looked soberly at the flushed and laughing girls, all tangled up in the bed-clothes on the floor, and then she closed the door. "Rosalie, what will the bishop think?" "Oh, mercy, I forgot the bishop," cried Rosalie. "Zee Artman, you bad thing, see what you've done. You've shocked a bishop, and now he will say we Presbyterians are not orthodox. It was all your fault--" "Bishop? What bishop? Where's he at? Where'd we get him? You don't mean to say father brought a bishop here without a week's notice? Isn't that like a preacher?" "Oh, girls, please get dressed and come and help me. The house is a sight. Treasure left that sticky stuff--" "Papier-mâché," said Treasure with dignity. "It is very scholastic, we use it to make maps with. I guess it won't shock a bishop. But don't call it sticky stuff--say papier-mâché." "I do not care what it is called, dear, it must not be left all over the chairs in the dining-room--not when there is a bishop in the state." "It is a shame, General, that's what it is," said Rosalie penitently. "We'll just fly now, and help like good preachers. You run back to your pancakes, and don't worry." They made so much haste after that to atone for their mischief that almost immediately they were down-stairs. Treasure hurriedly straightened the living-room, Rosalie set the table most irreproachably, and Zee slipped into the back yard and picked some golden glow. "Oh, the roots were on the Davis side of the fence, but what I picked was on our side," she declared when Doris frowned at her. So Rosalie arranged the flowers in a big blue bowl on the table, and when the bishop and their father came down-stairs laughing agreeably, everything was lovely, and the girls were spotlessly clean, soft as to voice, and gentle as to manner. And although the bishop's eyes twinkled a little, his face was properly grave. He was not even as old as their father--think of that now--and a bishop--and he had a way of telling stories which was quite attractive in regular preachers but seemed a little out of harmony in a bishop--and in a few minutes they were all good friends. "Is this the whole family?" asked the bishop, smiling on the three girls with approval.