"Well," began Zee, nothing loath, perching herself on her father's knee and beaming around on them like a fairy godmother, "you see when we first knew about father's eyes, and Doris and Rosalie were doing everything for father, we felt just terribly badly, because we couldn't do anything, and we felt so useless, we just hated to be alive. And so we talked to our nice old Cat--" "Zee!" "It is a compliment, Mr. MacCammon," she said, smiling on him warmly. "And between the three of us we figured and schemed--for we were determined to do our share, and--and--come up to the manse, you know. We wanted to rise to the--the occasion with the rest of you, even if we are young and usually in trouble. And so guess what Treasure did." "Tell us," begged Doris. "Nobody can ever tell what either of you ever did," said Rosalie. "Well, she began going to domestic science classes, hours and hours and hours. And when Miss Carlton was here, they worked every minute, both of them, like--like dogs--cooking and baking, and learning stuff, and Treasure is a perfectly wonderful cook--better than Doris herself. She can cook anything in the world, and bake bread, and--she can cook the whole meal, all by herself, and she loves it, and she is going to do it all the time after this, so Doris will have more time for father, and to help with the church, and to--entertain Mr. MacCammon, and so forth." "Honestly?" "Wait till dinner, and you shall see." "And, father," began Treasure gently, "you know I do not care for school much, and now I have finished high school, I thought maybe you would not make me go to college. I can't teach or anything. I am too afraid to get up before folks, and--won't you please let me stay at home and be your cook, and just study music, and a few little things like that?" "Why, Treasure!" "Well, think it over," said Zee. "It is open for consideration anyhow." "Tell about your part, Zee." "Oh, mine is not important," said Zee, "the cooking is the big job." "It is, too, important," cried Treasure indignantly. "Poor little Zee has been darning and mending every minute for the last month--and her fingers are all pricked up, and she got so tired of it--but she can do it just fine, and she is going to all the rest of the time--and she and I have been making beds and sweeping, and we are awfully smart at it--if we do say so ourselves--and so, Miss General, you are out of a job. Zee and I take the whole house." "But what am I to do?" asked Doris dazedly. MacCammon squeezed her fingers suggestively, but Doris could not or would not get the message. "You are to play with father, and call on the sick," said Zee glibly. "We've got it all figured out. You and father and Rosalie are to play all summer, go camping, and fishing and hunting--and go driving around the country to conventions and chautauquas, and--and--everything." "Oh, that blessed car," said Doris. "Oh, dear Mr. Davison, how good and kind he was."