Part 3 (1/2)

”Good morning,” Suzanna returned as she took her place; then, ”Will you remind Maizie that I am an Only Child today?”

”You hear, Maizie,” said Mrs. Procter smiling.

”Mustn't any of us speak to her?” asked Peter.

”No one but her mother,” said Suzanna addressing the ceiling.

She went on with her breakfast, eating daintily with the small finger on her right hand c.o.c.ked outward. Maizie stared, fascinated. Countless words rushed to her lips, but she had been bidden to silence, and she feared, should she speak to Suzanna, dire results would follow. Suzanna might even go away by herself in pursuit of some wonderful dream, and leave Maizie out of her scheme of things entirely.

So Maizie waited patiently.

”Since you sent Bridget away on an errand of mercy, Mother,” Suzanna began later, ”I'll help you with the dishes.”

In Suzanna's estimation the family boasting an Only Child boasted also servants.

”I'll be glad of your help,” said Mrs. Procter, ”and since Bridget is away, perhaps you will be kind enough to make your own bed and dust your own room.”

Suzanna's face fell. Maizie put out a small hand and touched her sister.

”I'll help you,” she said, ”if you want me to.”

”Very well,” said Suzanna, and together the children went upstairs.

In the little room shared by the sisters, Suzanna went to work.

Ardently she shook pillows and carefully she smoothed sheets, while Maizie, with a reflective eye ever upon Suzanna, dusted the dresser and hung up the clothes.

”Is your mother well this morning?” asked Suzanna politely.

”Why, you saw her,” Maizie cried off guard. ”She didn't have a headache this morning, did she?”

”I'm speaking of _your_ mother,” said Suzanna. ”You belong to an entirely different family from me.”

”Well,” said Maizie after a time, ”she's not suffering, thank you.”

”Have you any brothers and sisters?” pursued Suzanna in an interested though rather aloof tone.

”Oh, yes,” said Maizie, trying hard to fill her role satisfactorily. ”We have a very large family, and once we had twins.”

Suzanna looked her pity. ”I'm so glad,” she said, ”that I'm an Only Child. This morning I was very joyous when I had whipped cream and oatmeal.”

”You just had syrup, Suzanna Procter!” cried Maizie.

Suzanna cast a scathing look at her sister: ”I had whipped cream!” she cried, ”because I am an Only Child!” Then falling into her natural tone: ”If you forget again, Maizie, I can't even be a friend of yours.” She continued after a pause, rea.s.suming her Only-Child voice, ”That's why I wear this beautiful satin dress and diamond bracelets and s.h.i.+ning buckles on my shoes.”

Now Maizie saw only Suzanna's lawn dress, rather worn Sunday shoes with patent leather tips; she saw Suzanna's bare arms.

”Maybe you'd like, really, to wear a white satin dress and bracelets and buckles, but you know you haven't got them, don't you, Suzanna?” she asked.

Suzanna did not answer, plainly ignoring Maizie's conciliatory tone, and so finding the silence continuing unbroken, Maizie changed the subject.

”Will you play school with me this afternoon, Suzanna?”