"Zee, I hope you approve of me for a brother-in-law, for it won't do any good if you do not. It is all settled, and you may as well be pleased."
"Oh, Doris," wailed Zee, suddenly tearful. "Not really."
"Why, Zee," cried Doris, shocked at her intensity of grief. "Why, Baby! I will be here a long, long time yet—and never far away."
"Oh, and I haven't a cent to my name. I spent all I had, and all I could borrow, on those curtains in father's room."
"Oh, cheer up—you won't need to buy a wedding present yet a while. We won't hurry you. Your I.O.U. is good with us."
"It is not that, goosie," said Zee with lofty scorn. "But Treasure and I bet a dollar on it—and I picked the bishop—I never dreamed that Doris would go back on us preachers—and now I haven't got the dollar."
"Serves you right," said MacCammon grimly. "I am glad you lost. And you can't get a loan out of me. If you had bet on me, I'd give you the dollar and tickled to death."
"Come on back to father," said Zee, struggling heroically to rise to the heights required. "This is father's day. I may be bankrupt, and ruined, and facing degradation, and all that—but I can still scare up a smile for him."
THE END