d get mad," Maizie exclaimed. "Why just yesterday when we
were playing in the yard you said, 'Behold, the lion marcheth down the
yard. Maizie, quick, quick, out of the way,' and when I said, 'I don't
see any lion, Suzanna,' you said, 'Well, he's there, right beside you.
Don't you hear him roaring?' and there wasn't any lion there at all."

"Well, Maizie, you can't see anything unless it's there," deplored
Suzanna.

"You mean, Suzanna," put in Mrs. Procter as she covered the dough with
a snowy cloth, "that you have more imagination than Maizie."

"Well, anyway, Maizie," said Suzanna after a time, "I'm going to try and
make you a better girl."

"Make her stop saying that, mother," said Maizie, "I'm good enough as it
is."

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.

"I meant to tell you a story," said Suzanna; "about something you've
never heard before." She went on dusting.

"Would the story make me a better girl?"

"Yes, and happier, too."

"Is it a nice story, Suzanna?"

"Awfully sweet."

"When could you tell me, Suzanna?"

"We'll go out into the yard after I've finished dusting and then I'll
tell you the story, Maizie."

"All right."

So when the dusting was accomplished, the children sought the back
yard. Suzanna procured a soap box, placed it beneath the one tree, while
Maizie drew another very close to her sister that she might lose no
word, and settled with keen anticipation to listen to Suzanna's story.

The day was hot, with scarcely a breeze stirring. Still, with the quiet
there was a freshness in the air that made the children draw in deep
breaths.

Suzanna began very softly: "Maizie, do you see that big rose nodding
near the fence over there at Mrs. Reynolds'?"

Yes, Maizie saw the rose.

"Well, yesterday when you were wheeling the baby and I was sitting on
this very box putting buttons on Peter's waist, that rose all at once
walked across the road to me! It stood by my side for a long time, and
then it said softly, 'Suzanna,' and it looked at me and it was all pink
and very sweet, and it said to me, 'Suzanna, how old are you?' and I
said, 'I'm nearly eight, Lady Rose, and Maizie is nearly seven. Mother
h