Suzanna Stirs the Fire | Page 7

forgotten."
"Haven't you a brother or a sister?" in a moment she asked softly.
"No one," said the little lady.
"Oh, then," said Suzanna pityingly, as a dire thought came to her,
"there's no one to call you by your first name!"
And then the old lady lowered her hands and looked into Suzanna's
face. "No one," she said sadly, "and it's such a pretty name, Drusilla.
It's many long years since I was called that."
"I'd hate to come to a time when no one would call me Suzanna,"
Suzanna said, and she leaned forward and touched the blue-veined
hands. "May I call you Drusilla?" she asked.
"That would be sweet of you," said the little old lady. She seemed less
of the queen now than before, just a fluttering, little creature to be
tenderly protected and cared for.
The maid came in at this moment. She went straight to the old lady.
"I think," she said gently, "that you must take your nap now. This is the
day for Mrs. Bartlett's call."
The queen rose quite obediently. Suzanna said at once: "Well, I must be
going. But I'll come again. Good-bye, Drusilla."

"Good-bye, dear," returned "Drusilla" sweetly. "I'd like to have you
kiss me."
Suzanna lifted her young face and kissed Drusilla's withered cheek.
* * * * *
Once out in the road and going swiftly toward home, Suzanna pondered
many things. She thought of what the old lady had said about the little
silver chain binding one to another; that no one really stood alone--no
one with a family, at least, Suzanna decided. It was a big thought; you
could go on and on in your heart and find many places for it to fit--and
then she reached her own gate and felt as always a sense of happiness.
No matter how happily she had spent the day, there was always a little
throb which stirred her heart when she went up the steps leading to the
rather battered front door of the place she called home.
Maizie opened the door. She was as happy in beholding Suzanna
returned as though weeks had parted them, for she knew Suzanna's
aptitude for great adventures. Always they came to her, while another
might walk forever and meet no Heralds of Romance.
"Did something happen, Suzanna?" she began eagerly.
"Yes, I found a queen and we had lunch together," Suzanna responded.
"I'll tell you all about it when we're in bed."
"Are you going to play at something tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow I shall be an Only Child," said Suzanna. "Don't you
remember?"
"And not my sister?" asked Maizie.
Suzanna caught the yearning in Maizie's voice.
"Well," she said, "I'll be your closest friend, Maizie."

CHAPTER II
THE ONLY CHILD
Breakfast the next morning was nearly concluded when Suzanna made
her appearance, but she met with no reproof. She had anticipated none,
for surely an Only Child was entitled to many privileges; no rules
should be made to bind her.
Her father was gone. It was a day of stock-taking at the hardware store,
and his early presence had been requested by his employer, Job Doane.
Suzanna's mother and the children still lingered at the table.
"Good morning, Suzanna," said Mrs. Procter, while the other children
gazed with interest at their tardy sister.
"Good morning," Suzanna returned as she took her place; then, "Will
you remind Maizie that I am an Only Child today?"
"You hear, Maizie," said Mrs. Procter smiling.
"Mustn't any of us speak to her?" asked Peter.
"No one but her mother," said Suzanna addressing the ceiling.
She went on with her breakfast, eating daintily with the small finger on
her right hand cocked outward. Maizie stared, fascinated. Countless
words rushed to her lips, but she had been bidden to silence, and she
feared, should she speak to Suzanna, dire results would follow.
Suzanna might even go away by herself in pursuit of some wonderful
dream, and leave Maizie out of her scheme of things entirely.
So Maizie waited patiently.
"Since you sent Bridget away on an errand of mercy, Mother," Suzanna
began later, "I'll help you with the dishes."
In Suzanna's estimation the family boasting an Only Child boasted also

servants.
"I'll be glad of your help," said Mrs. Procter, "and since Bridget is away,
perhaps you will be kind enough to make your own bed and dust your
own room."
Suzanna's face fell. Maizie put out a small hand and touched her sister.
"I'll help you," she said, "if you want me to."
"Very well," said Suzanna, and together the children went upstairs.
In the little room shared by the sisters, Suzanna went to work. Ardently
she shook pillows and carefully she smoothed sheets, while Maizie,
with a reflective eye ever upon Suzanna, dusted the dresser and hung
up