fall upon the small head. "She came first one day when
the flowers were all in color. She listened to me, and believed my
stories of the land where I once dwelt--with my king and my young
prince, who afterwards forgot me."

A sob came from the throat of the man standing near. He buried his face
in his hands. A white-clad nurse came tiptoeing in, looked at her
patient, nodded reassuringly and went out again.

"I knew you were a queen, Drusilla," said Suzanna, "because you were so
beautiful, and so haughty." She leaned forward till her young face was
very close to the old fading one. "And you told me something that day
about the chain that binds everybody in the world to everyone else.
I've never forgotten that. I've told lots of people about it."

"Yes, yes, I remember."

"And I told that story to the Eagle Man, and to Graham's father, and
he's going to have tents put up in his yard for some poor people who
have no homes, for your sake, Drusilla."

The frail figure suddenly fell back. "_Drusilla!_ Who calls me that?"
The pale lips trembled. "Many, many years have gone since I heard that
name."

The man cried out: "Mother dear--_Mother dear_!"

She turned her eyes upon him. The light of recognition slowly returned
to them. "My boy," she said gently. "Come, sit beside me. All three. The
little girl who loves me, and you and your child, my grandson."

So they settled themselves, all at her knee. "Mother, dear, did you hear
what Suzanna said? Your story of the chain awakened me."

"Awakened you, my boy? But that story and others I told you many years
ago, and you forgot."

The tears, hard-wrung, started to his eyes. "But, mother," he said in a
low voice, "is it too late? Those truths I learned many years ago from
you--is it too late to use them now?" He let his head fall suddenly upon
her knee: "Oh, mother, mother, how blind are men; what false gods they
worship!"

She did not answer. Graham, a great pity sprung in his heart for his
father, spoke: "Father's good, grandmother! He does lots of kind things
for people. And he's going to take care of many families whose homes
were burned."

"In your name, mother, as Suzanna says," said the man, lifting his head.
"And many, many other righteous things in your name, my mother."

Her face grew luminous, with a light lent from some far place. "My
boy--my little son--" she whispered.

The white-clad nurse came in again, looked sharply at her patient. "I
think," she s