Then looking out at the people seated before her, she recognized that they were kind. That they had come not to criticize, but to enjoy and to acclaim. She felt growing within her heart a great love for all humanity.
Her eyes sought out her father's. Just in front he sat, looking up at her, his eyes filled with pride. She had made him happy. Her heart was very full.
Her eyes after a time went again over the audience. And behind her father sat a boy, the one she had seen at Drusilla's. His eyes seemed to be searching her face. She smiled at him and he smiled in return.
The evening was over. Suzanna was down in the audience. "Did you like the dance, daddy?" she asked.
"It was beautiful," he answered with gratifying response. "I was very proud of my little girl—and the shoes—I was so glad you could have them—they were the prettiest in the drill."
"I think they were, too," Suzanna answered, with real truth.
Out in the street she saw the boy. He was standing near the gate of the school yard, by his side a tall, dark young man.
"How do you do?" said Suzanna.
He snatched his hat from his head. "Oh, I liked your dance," he said. "This is my tutor," he finished.
"How do you do," said Suzanna politely to the young man. She wondered what a tutor was. Then to the boy: "Drusilla's your grandmother, isn't she?"