Doris looked tenderly from the face of one little sister to the other. Treasure's eyes were clear, serene and limpid. Her delicately tinted olive face was fine and spiritual. And right by her side stood Zee, the baby of the manse, thirteen years old, dark curls a-tangle, dark eyes a-sparkle, red cheeks aglow. "Oh, you little Imp!" cried Rosalie. "You look just awful." "I do not think so," said Treasure quickly. "She looks lovely all blown about like that." Zee laughed at them both with charming unconcern. "Do I have to brush myself down before dinner?" she demanded, edging toward her corner of the table. "Indeed you do; wash down, and brush down, and rub down, and do it quickly, for here comes father." Zee obediently skipped up the stairs, and Rosalie ran to the hall to greet her father. "And how is the Blessing of the Manse?" he asked, crossing the room, with Rosalie still clinging to his arm, to look tenderly into Treasure's soft fine face. "Perfectly all right," came the even answer. "But not very healthy," put in Zee slyly, coming back in haste. "Didn't I do a quick job, General? Treasure is all right, but not very healthy. That is why she is a blessing. Haven't you noticed, Rosalie, that blessings are very, very frail? Maybe if I looked sickish you would call me a blessing, too?" "Is she gone, General?" came the anxious whisper as the father drew near his oldest daughter. "And how did the Problem take it?" "Gone, father, and the Problem is glad of it--we might have known she would be whatever we did not expect. Now I am the General in very truth, and supper is ready--Zee, don't rush. Just a minute, dear, the pear preserves won't evaporate. You mustn't hurry father into the blessing." When the blessing had been asked on their food the father looked about the little round table, and his face was richly satisfied. "This is something like," he said, smiling into the faces of his four girls. "Yes, it is now," said Rosalie. "But you just wait till the General gets started. She will never let us slide along and be comfortable as Miss Carlton did. Wait till she has time to think up orders!" CHAPTER II THE PROBLEM "General, did you ask father if we may go to the Country Club da--party?" asked Rosalie, in her most irresistibly wheedlesome tone. Doris looked very sober. "No, I didn't," she admitted slowly. "I am afraid we--shouldn't, Rosalie. We haven't anything to wear, in the first place. It is a regular party, you know." "That is why I want to go. I am so tired of stupid little class affairs, and Endeavor socials. I want a regular, honest-to-goodness party. Please, Doris. Lots of our members belong to the Country Club. It is very respectable." "But they are not preachers, and we are. And we haven't any regular party clothes." "Use your eyes, my belovedest, and no one will notice your clothes. At least, the men won't," said Rosalie shrewdly. "Rosalie, that positively is not nice. You mustn't do it."