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Updated: June 28, 2025
He opened the door to Suzanna, who stood waiting, conventionally attired in hat and cloak, pale, and with eyes wide and dark. "Good evening, Reynolds," said Suzanna. "O! good evening, come in, come in," urged Mr. Reynolds hospitably, but totally at a loss as he looked at the little figure. "Come right out to the kitchen." Suzanna followed him.
And seated in a big velvet chair, as usual drawn near the window, though the shade was pulled straight down, pillows heaped all about her, sat Drusilla. Her face seemed small, oh, pitiably small, with bright eyes quite too large for their place. But someway Suzanna, looking in, knew that Drusilla was happy. Perhaps because, kneeling beside her, his head buried in her lap, was her son.
Graham seeing the child and about to make some suggestion for her comfort, was distracted by Peter's call. The boy had found a rabbit hole and wished he had Jerry with him to reach the rabbit, for which cruel wish both Suzanna and Maizie scolded him roundly. And he gazed at them with the same old perplexed gaze.
He stood a long moment looking at the machine, then he glanced at the inventor, but when someone knocked softly at the door he started, revealing how far away from his immediate surroundings his thoughts had flown. Suzanna entered. "Here's David, daddy," she said. "He wants to talk with you." David entered. "I had some time," he said, "and I wanted to see the machine again."
Indeed, she was at a loss just how to offer comfort. When Helen, Peter's twin, went away her heart had ached, and when a little baby, soft and cuddly had gone away forever, Suzanna had wept for days and far into the nights. This queen, she found was very sad, and very longing, and very lonely, three things she thought queenhood exempt from, sadness, and longing and loneliness.
"Did you really see the rose with your eyes, Suzanna?" "Yes," Suzanna answered; "truly with my eyes." She suddenly sat up very straight and pointed a small finger, "and there it's coming again. It's nodding its head at me. Look, Maizie!" Maizie jumped. "There, see, Maizie, it's walking right through Mrs. Reynolds' gate. Isn't it graceful?"
"Oh, Maizie," said Suzanna, "father must have milk on his oatmeal." "Why?" asked Maizie. "Because he is our father and he must have the nice things." "Well, we're his children," pursued Maizie, apparently unconvinced. "And I don't see why we shouldn't have some nice things to eat, too." "But there's so many of us," said Suzanna.
A flame lit within her eyes; she had never forgotten the anguish engendered by her mother's refusal to cut away the goods from under the pink dress; then the expression softened. Was it not on that occasion, too, she had learned the dearness of that same mother? "There, now," said Mrs. Reynolds, "I shouldn't have teased you, Suzanna." Her eyes grew tender.
"He's not very old," whispered Suzanna to her host; "and he doesn't know he must be truly thankful to you." "Well, let him rest comfortably," said the Eagle Man, and he moved in such a way that the baby's head rested against his knee. "There, that's better," he said to Mrs. Procter. "I didn't suppose you wanted its neck to be broken," he ended gruffly.
"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.
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