Suzanna Stirs the Fire | Page 6

because thou art a princess thou art exempt
from all service in the world?"
"A princess does not work," said Suzanna wisely.
"I would have you know," said the queen, "that all those of the world
must give service in one way or another. Dost think that when in my
palace I reigned a queen I gave no service? There were those who loved

me and needed me. As their queen did I not owe them something in
return for their love? And could I leave their needs unrelieved?"
"But," faltered Suzanna, "you were a queen!"
The old lady's eyes lit with a sudden fire. "And 'twas because I reigned
a queen," she answered, "that I must do more than those of less exalted
station. In my kingdom there were little children, there were the old,
and there were the feeble, and there were the poor. Could I go about
unconcerned as to their welfare?" Her voice suddenly softened. She put
out her hand, now trembling with her emotion, and drew Suzanna close
to her. "My sweet little princess," she said, "no one in all the world
stands alone. A little silver chain binds each one of us to his fellow.
You may break that chain and you may feel yourself free, but you will
be a greater slave than ever."
"I think I understand," said Suzanna, and indeed she had a fair meaning
of the other's words. "The chain runs from wrist to wrist and is rubber
plated."
With a sudden change of manner the old lady spoke again, going back
to her former imperious manner: "Am I thus to starve because no slave
springs forth to do my bidding?"
At this important moment the maid reappeared. She came swiftly down
the garden to the old lady. She paused when she saw Suzanna. She had
a very gentle face, Suzanna decided, and when she spoke to the old
lady it was tenderly as one would speak to a child. Suzanna decided
that she liked her.
Said Suzanna: "The queen wants her strawberries wet with dew and
buried in their own green leaves."
"The queen," returned the maid, "shall have her luncheon."
"And the Princess Cecilia," said the queen, "shall eat with me, Letty."
Suzanna was very glad to hear this since for a long time past she had

been hungry, and had been thinking rather longingly of the midday
dinner at home.
The maid left, but in a very short time she came into the garden again
and announced that lunch was ready in the dining-room.
"Walk behind me," said the old lady, and Suzanna took her place
behind the queen. In that sequence they went down the path, up the four
steps leading to the little house, through the open door, and paused in a
short, narrow hall, through which Suzanna and her sister and brother
had often walked.
"Place your coat here," said the old lady, indicating a black walnut
hall-tree.
Suzanna did as she was bid and then followed her hostess into the
dining-room, to the left of the small hall, where a table flower-decked,
stood set for two.
Suzanna sat down at the place the queen indicated and waited
interestedly. In time the maid brought on a silver tray with little cups of
cream soup, and then cold chicken buried in pink jelly, a most delicious
concoction. Finally there was cocoa with whipped cream and
marshmallows and melting angel food cake.
The old lady ate daintily, and long before Suzanna's appetite was
satisfied she announced that she was finished and demanded that the
princess rise from the table with her. She did not mention the
strawberries. With a little sigh Suzanna obeyed. And now, instead of
returning to the garden, the old lady led the way into the parlor, which
lay to the right of the hall. She went straight to the picture that hung
above a marble mantel. Below the picture in the center of the mantel
rested a crystal vase containing sprays of lilies of the valley.
"This was my king," murmured the old lady, and Suzanna looked up
into the pictured face. "I like him," she said immediately; "has he gone
far away?"

At these words the old lady suddenly sank down into a chair and
covered her face with her hands. She began to cry softly, but in a way
that hurt Suzanna inexpressibly. She stood for a moment hesitant. The
sobs still continued and then Suzanna, deciding on her course, went to
the little shaking figure and put her hands softly on the drooping
shoulders.
"Can I help you," she asked. "Just tell me what to do for you."
"Nothing," came the muffled tones, "there is no one to do for me; no
one to do for me in love. I am alone,