Part 32 (2/2)

Drusilla flushed and happy led the way. Robert and his wife followed, and the children came last. The hostess, from her place at the head of the table, designated each one's chair, and when all were seated she bowed her head and offered up a little prayer.

And then Letty brought in hot m.u.f.fins and marmalade, sweet b.u.t.ter and fragrant tea. And amidst much laughter and merry words the feast began:

And at the end Drusilla rose, and asking silence, said:

”Robert, today in the name of the bride's mother, I gave her into your keeping. I can see a promise in your eyes that she will never, never regret going to you. Love her always.”

And Robert, standing, in a deep voice answered: ”Drusilla,” borrowing quite unconsciously Suzanna's way of name, ”Drusilla, I have taken upon myself this day the great responsibility of a woman's happiness--” he paused and bent a look of ineffable tenderness upon his wife--”and please G.o.d I shall keep that responsibility while life lasts.”

And they all pushed back their chairs, the children with a little sc.r.a.ping noise. And Robert looking at his watch thought it was time to leave, since the train would not wait for laggards.

Then all in a moment it seemed he was going down the path again, his wife upon his arm. And Graham, who had disappeared kitchenward, returned and flung a handful of rice after them. At which the bride turned and laughed and waved her hand.

”It was a real wedding, wasn't it, Drusilla?” said Suzanna, ”even to the rice.”

”A real wedding, my little girl,” said Drusilla.

Graham spoke: ”Grandmother, aren't you glad I wheeled you out today?”

She answered at once. ”So very glad, Graham. And I feel happier tonight than for many a long day.”

”And may I do so again soon?” he asked. ”And next summer I'll take you out every day.”

A little smile touched her lips. ”Next summer--next summer--? Ah, laddie, come often this winter, if you can.”

And then the children started away. And at the last moment Drusilla drew Suzanna to her. ”Little girl,” she said lovingly, ”I'm so glad you came once to visit me--that summer day.”

”Oh, so am I, Drusilla,” Suzanna cried. She looked wistfully into her friend's face. ”Some day I want to do something wonderful for you.”

Drusilla, bending low, kissed the upturned face with its big seeking eyes. But she did not speak. For why make definite by clumsy words the miracles a little child brings to pa.s.s. No, thought Drusilla in her wisdom, Suzanna should go her way beautifully unconscious of her good works.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE EAGLE MAN VISITS THE ATTIC

A few Sat.u.r.days after the marriage in the little wayside church, Richard Procter reached home in a state of great excitement.

The family was in the dining-room. Mrs. Procter was polis.h.i.+ng the drinking gla.s.ses. Though it was long past noon, Suzanna had just commenced to clear away the luncheon dishes. Maizie was shaking napkins, while Peter was in a corner pretending to play ball with the baby, very much to the baby's amus.e.m.e.nt.

Mr. Procter told his news triumphantly.

”At last,” he cried. ”Jane, John Ma.s.sey is absolutely coming to see the machine this afternoon.”

The color flashed up into Mrs. Procter's face.

”Oh, Richard,” she cried; ”perhaps--” but she did not finish her conjecture.

<script>