whispered directions to her husband: "You run across to the little home
while I put her to bed." Then looking wistfully up into his face: "Do
you think she'll let me undress her?"

"That young'un will do anything to make you happy, Margie."

From the top of the stairs the words floated down: "Are you
coming--_mother_--"

Suzanna's voice choked on the word, but Mrs. Reynolds heard only the
exquisite title. She lifted her face, glowing like a heaven of stars.

"I'm coming, Suzanna," she called. And she went swiftly up the stairs to
the little girl. "This night you sleep under the silk coverlet--and more
I couldn't do for royalty!"




CHAPTER VII

REGRETS


Suzanna woke the next morning to a realization that she was in a strange
place. She occupied a large bed, too large, it seemed to her, for one
small girl. And even the silken coverlet failed to assuage the sudden
wave of homesickness which threatened to engulf her.

She lay thinking. A clock on the dresser showed her the hour to be