"Oh, mother, dear, I'll help you," cried Suzanna. "I'll always be good
to you and when I'm grown up I'll buy you silk dresses and pretty hats
and take you to hear beautiful music."

Later they went downstairs together. In the kitchen Maizie was amusing
the baby as he sat in his high chair. She looked around as Suzanna
entered: "Are you going to see Drusilla now," asked Maizie.

"Who's Drusilla?" asked Mrs. Procter with interest.

Now Suzanna had not told her mother of her new friend. She had wished to
keep in character, and a princess, she felt, was rather secretive and
aloof. But now the renewed closeness she felt to her mother opened her
heart.

"Yesterday when I was a princess, living my very own first tucked-in
day, I walked and walked, and at last came to a little house with a
garden," she said, "and there was an old lady with no one to call her by
her first name--and so I'm going to call her Drusilla."

"Is she a little old lady with white hair, and curls on each side of her
face?" asked Mrs. Procter.

"Yes," said Suzanna.

"Why, she's Mr. Graham Woods Bartlett's mother, and she's a little--"
Mrs. Procter hesitated believing it wiser to leave her sentence
unfinished.

"A little what, mother?" asked Suzanna anxiously.