Suzanna Stirs the Fire by Emily Calvin Blake
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page 23 of 297 (07%)
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"No one," she said sadly, "and it's such a pretty name, Drusilla. It's
many long years since I was called that." "I'd hate to come to a time when no one would call me Suzanna," Suzanna said, and she leaned forward and touched the blue-veined hands. "May I call you Drusilla?" she asked. "That would be sweet of you," said the little old lady. She seemed less of the queen now than before, just a fluttering, little creature to be tenderly protected and cared for. The maid came in at this moment. She went straight to the old lady. "I think," she said gently, "that you must take your nap now. This is the day for Mrs. Bartlett's call." The queen rose quite obediently. Suzanna said at once: "Well, I must be going. But I'll come again. Good-bye, Drusilla." "Good-bye, dear," returned "Drusilla" sweetly. "I'd like to have you kiss me." Suzanna lifted her young face and kissed Drusilla's withered cheek. * * * * * Once out in the road and going swiftly toward home, Suzanna pondered many things. She thought of what the old lady had said about the little silver chain binding one to another; that no one really stood alone--no one with a family, at least, Suzanna decided. It was a big thought; you |
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