t everybody
will be just looking at my feet, and I'll not enjoy the dance one bit."

The queen knit her brows. Then her answer came: "Be not honest in the
way you describe, neither suffer."

"But, Drusilla," Suzanna objected, "I don't understand."

"_And can you not be brave?_" asked the queen with a note of scorn in
her voice. "Is it left to one who feels the time approaching when she
will be deposed from her throne and all she holds dear, alone to have
courage?" She looked straight into Suzanna's dark eyes. "Your father
knows joy in thinking he has given you your heart's desire. Why, then,
hurt him by telling him that the shoes are not your desire? Why not,
with head held high, lead the dance you speak of, and forget shoes, and
remember only the movement of the dance, the lilt of the music?"

"Is that bravery?" asked Suzanna.

"The greatest bravery," returned the queen, "will be to say to yourself,
'Am I so poor a maid that I cannot by the very beauty of my dancing keep
the eyes of the watchers lifted clear above my shoes? For shoes, what
are shoes? Leather and wood. Inanimate, unthinking _stuff_! They are not
worth one heart pang, one moment of misery to me or mine. But _I, I am
alive_. I can see and think and understand. I can go so joyously through
the mazes of the dance that the watchers may forget their sordid
cares.'"

Suzanna, listening, was carried away. She cried with eager response:
"Why the night of the Indian Drill I can believe I am a fairy, dancing
over snow-topped mountains, and singing, flying clear up into the
clouds!"

"You might fall, Suzanna," said Maizie, "you know you haven't wings."

But on this occasion Suzanna was not to be recalled to earth, and
besides in her queen's interested, understanding face, she felt a quick
fellowship to the spirit that dwelt within her.

And then breaking harshly into the wonder of this moment came the
tinkle, tinkle of the electric bell.

"Oh," cried Maizie, "someone is coming."

"I shall brook no intruders," cried the queen.

"No matter who it is?" asked Suzanna.

"No matter who it is. I desire to be alone with my court. However, you
can peep over the banisters and see who dares come thus upon us."

Suzanna went to the top of the stairs. The maid was ushering in a lady
and a boy.

"Go right upstairs," Suzanna heard the maid say. "Mrs. Bartlett's in
the attic with two of the Procter children."

The visitors appeared at the top of the stairs and