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