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.
A long time afterward she became conscious of vague unrest. It must be terribly late, yet Doris was acutely certain that some one was moving around—doing something—things evidently were not right.
She slipped out of bed, and drew her flannel kimono about her. In the next room, her younger sisters were sleeping heavily. Her father's door was ajar, and she peered in, noting the humpy outlines of the beautiful blue and white Ladies' Aid quilt over the tall figure. Then a sudden glance from the hall window beside her sent a chill to her very heart.
The door of the barn—the "garage" now, by grace of dear Mr. Davison's red car—was slowly, softly opening. A man stepped out from the shadow and passed inside, the door swinging wide behind him. Then came the whirr of the engine, as he stepped on the starter.