Suzanna stood a long time at the window, so long indeed that Maizie
feared she was lost to all materialities. Suzanna, wonderful one, who
could strike from dull stuff magic dreams; who could vivify and
gloriously color the little things of life; who could into the simplest
happenings read thrilling interpretations! What bliss to accompany her
upon her wanderings, and what sadness to be forgotten!

Indeed Suzanna seemed oblivious. Certainly in spirit she was absent and
at last Maizie could bear the silence no longer.

"Suzanna!" she cried.

Then Suzanna turned. She did not speak, however, but placed a warning
finger upon her lips. Then she went swiftly to the closet and took down
her best white dress. She laid it tenderly on the back of a chair till
she had found in the lowest bureau drawer her white stockings and
slippers, then she brushed and combed her hair, confined it lightly with
a length of ribbon, washed her hands and face in the little bowl which
stood in one corner near the window and leisurely donned the white
dress.

Maizie sat straight up in bed watching in amazement. At last Suzanna
glanced over at her little wistful sister, then in stately fashion
advanced toward the bed, till close to Maizie she paused. Tall and
slender she stood, with eyes amber-colored, eyes which turned to black
in moments of deep emotion. Her brown hair touched with copper sprang
back from her brow in waving grace; her delicate features called for
small attention, excepting her mouth which was softly curved, eager of
speech, grave, mutinous, the most expressive part of an expressive