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Updated: June 28, 2025
"Ah, lack-a-me," cried Mrs. Reynolds. "Who e'er gets his deepest heart desire in this drear world?" Suzanna sprang to her feet. "Oh, but heart's desires change." "Change!" "Yes. You can have new ones every day. Why, for many days my deepest heart's desire has been to have the goods cut away from under the lace.
She did not speak, nor did he, but she felt his heart's nearness. And then his gaze wandered to Suzanna, Suzanna gazing into the flames, her dark eyes like glowing jewels, her soft lips parted. And into Mrs. Bartlett's heart crept a little fear and a little yearning and a little great knowledge that composite emotion all mothers are born to know.
Once more they turned, and walked down the garden path till they reached the chairs under the tree. The queen sank again among her pillows and Suzanna was about to use her camp chair when the queen spoke in her old commanding manner: "I am hungry, serf," she cried. "Go, prepare my food! All the dainties that you can find. I wish cream beaten to a froth and peaches, halved and stoned.
Bartlett," begged Suzanna, "don't tell us any more now. I don't think I can stand any more joy for today." "Well, then," Mr. Bartlett smiled, "let's start away for our luncheon. We simply live in this house and take our meals at the hotel." And at this moment the rest of the family appearing, they all started away. A short walk brought them to the hotel where all was life and light and excitement.
True, to make up he returned to work in the evening after supper, and remained sometimes till midnight, but that was the bargain he had made with Job Doane, the owner of the shop, and he stuck bravely by it. The house was in beautiful order when father arrived at noon. He went at once to the dining-room. Suzanna and Maizie, putting the last touches to the table, greeted him cordially.
Recovering from the dizziness, with eyes large and black and her face very pale, Suzanna gazed unbelievingly at her mother. For a moment she was quite unable to speak. Then in a tiny voice which she endeavored to keep steady, she asked: "Not even from under the wide row round the bottom, mother?" "No, Suzanna," Mrs. Procter answered, quite unconscious of the storm in the child's breast.
Suzanna said nothing more then. She finished her stove, and then, when Maizie had peeled all the potatoes, Suzanna went into the parlor and dusted all the furniture very carefully. Maizie followed and stood watching her sister. "How could you make me better, Suzanna?" she asked, after a time, curiosity elbowing pride aside.
"Why, this morning I didn't even warm the baby's bottle, because mother said I needn't seeing that I was a princess and living in my own tucked-in day." "'Tucked-in day!" responded the queen. "What do you mean by that?" "Why, it's my very own day, a day tucked in between last week and this week," said Suzanna.
Reynolds spoke gently: "Yes, Suzanna. Did you tell your mother you were coming to me to be my own lass?" "I wrote her a letter." Suzanna on her way upstairs waited a moment while Mrs. Reynolds whispered directions to her husband: "You run across to the little home while I put her to bed." Then looking wistfully up into his face: "Do you think she'll let me undress her?"
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.
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