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 the clothes.

"Is your mother well this morning?" asked Suzanna politely.

"Why, you saw her," Maizie cried off guard. "She didn't have a headache
this morning, did she?"

"I'm speaking of _your_ mother," said Suzanna. "You belong to an
entirely different family from me."

"Well," said Maizie after a time, "she's not suffering, thank you."

"Have you any brothers and sisters?" pursued Suzanna in an interested
though rather aloof tone.

"Oh, yes," said Maizie, trying hard to fill her role satisfactorily. "We
have a very large family, and once we had twins."

Suzanna looked her pity. "I'm so glad," she said, "that I'm an Only
Child. This morning I was very joyous when I had whipped cream and
oatmeal."

"You just had syrup, Suzanna Procter!" cried Maizie.

Suzanna cast a scathing look at her sister: "I had whipped cream!" she
cried, "because I am an Only Child!" Then falling into her natural tone:
"If you forget again, Maizie, I can't even be a friend of yours." She
continued after a pause, reassuming her Only-Child voice, "That's why I
wear this beautiful satin dress and diamond bracelets and shining
buckles on my shoes."

Now Maizie saw only Suzanna's lawn dress, rather worn Sunday shoes with
patent leather tips; she saw Suzanna's bare arms.

"Maybe you'd like, really, to wear a white satin dress and bracelets and
buckles, but you know you haven't got them, don't you, Suzanna?" she
asked.

Suzanna did not answer, plainly ignoring Maizie's conciliatory tone, and
so finding the silence continuing unbroken, Maizie changed the subject.

"Will you p