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She's devoted to Jane Allen, though, so that settles her with me." "Is Dorothy Martin at your table?" asked Maizie. "Yes. I don't like her." "She's a prig," shrugged Maizie. "Edith Hammond used to sit there. Do you know her?" queried Marian of Elsie. "She's not here any more. She's going to be married. I heard this Dorothy talking about her yesterday to Miss Dupree." "Glad's she's gone.
"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." Breakfast the next morning was nearly concluded when Suzanna made her appearance, but she met with no reproof.
At length the children reached the Massey grounds. Suzanna pushed open the big iron gate and trundled the cart into the gravel path. The ground immediately began to be slightly hilly. "You'd better help me, Maizie," said Suzanna. "How?" asked Maizie helplessly. "Put your hands on my back and push," said Suzanna. So the little procession formed itself.
But most appealing of all to the mother was the sight of the four children, her own three and little Mabel, seated quietly near the table; they had evidently been there some time, waiting patiently till she should open her eyes. "Oh," cried Maizie, great relief filling her at sight of her mother stirring, "Suzanna made us stay so quiet till you woke up, mother, and we're all awful hungry."
I know Monday's supposed to be wash day, but you said it wasn't a big wash and I did all the sorting Saturday night. I am all fixed up for a princess, and something inside me tells me I must wander about my palace and perhaps find paths leading to far-off snow countries." It was Maizie who looked now questioningly at her mother. Could it be that Suzanna would be given her own way?
"I wonder if he still hates everyone who disagrees with him. Loring Pickering was one of his pet enemies." "Oh, Dennis is forgiving, like all Irishmen," said Robert. Impulsively he laid a hand on Maizie's. "Maizie is part Irish, too," he added, meaningly. The girl smiled at him star-eyed. For she understood. Francisco met the erstwhile agitator on the street one day.
"How can it walk on one stem?" asked Maizie, the literalist. "Well, it does, doesn't it? You can see it. Now, it's coming into our yard." Suzanna waited, then: "Good morning, Lady Rose," she greeted in a high treble voice. "Come and stand near Maizie." Maizie moved quickly to make room. "You see it now, don't you, Maizie?" Maizie hesitated.
If, when we get into Weatherbee's room, things don't look favorable, we'd better be ready to slide out of the whole business. We can withdraw the charge, you know. That will end the whole thing." Maizie made no reply, save by smiling in her slow, aggravating fashion. She had her own ideas on the subject, but she was too indifferent of results to express them. At least, so she believed.
"Well, I don't want you or anyone in the whole world even to notice Miss Smithson's arm," she flung out, and so Maizie was silenced. Suzanna glanced through the window. "Why there's father," cried Suzanna; "I wonder why he's coming home so early?" Mr. Procter came hurriedly down the path, pushed open the front door, and with no word sprang up the stairs. To the attic, the children knew.
Let her calm down and she's likely to crumple. She really has some idea of principle, only she doesn't know it. I wonder if she'll ever find it out." "Do you mean to insinuate that I haven't?" demanded Marian crossly. "No; I say it plainly. Neither you nor I have any principle," declared Maizie with her slow smile. "We might as well be honest about it. We never are about anything else, you know.
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