in bed watching in amazement. At last Suzanna
glanced over at her little wistful sister, then in stately fashion
advanced toward the bed, till close to Maizie she paused. Tall and
slender she stood, with eyes amber-colored, eyes which turned to black
in moments of deep emotion. Her brown hair touched with copper sprang
back from her brow in waving grace; her delicate features called for
small attention, excepting her mouth which was softly curved, eager of
speech, grave, mutinous, the most expressive part of an expressive
face.

Suzanna danced through life, sang her way to the hearts of others, left
her touch wherever she went; yet, beneath the lightness, philosophies of
life formed themselves intuitively, one after another, truer perhaps in
their findings than those which filtered through the pure intellect of
the grown-up.

At length she spoke to Maizie. "You mustn't say anything to me, Maizie,
unless I ask you a question," she commanded, "because I'm a princess who
lives in a crystal palace in a wonderful country with oceans and
mountains."

Maizie did not reply; what could she say? Simply she stared as Suzanna
moved gracefully about the room with the slow movements she considered
fitting a princess.

At last she returned to the bed. She began: "Maizie, I wish you to rise,
dress thyself, then go into thy parents' room and if the baby is awake,
dress him as Suzanna, thy sister, did when she was here and not a
princess."

Maizie rose and obediently dressed herself, ever watchful of Suzanna and
thrilled by the new personality which seemed to have entered with the
princess. When she was quite dressed, even to her little enshrouding
gingham apron, she asked:

"Are you going to school today, Suzanna?"

Suzanna fixed her eyes in the distance.

"I'm here, Princess," corrected Maizie, "right in front of you. You can
touch me with your hand. And besides, I had to ask that question. It was
burning on my tongue."

Suzanna did not stir. At last: "I'm not going to school today," she half
chanted. "A princess does not go to school. She wanders through the
fields and over the mountains and when she returns to her palace she
eats roses smothered in cream."

"Oh," cried Maizie. "Rose petals are bitter and beside we only have
cream on Sundays."

Suzanna turned away. Sometimes she found it a trifle difficult to play
with Maizie. She went slowly, majestically down the stairs and into the
little parlor. She regretted she h