"Oh, so am I, Drusilla," Suzanna cried. She looked wistfully into her friend's face. "Some day I want to do something wonderful for you."
Drusilla, bending low, kissed the upturned face with its big seeking eyes. But she did not speak. For why make definite by clumsy words the miracles a little child brings to pass. No, thought Drusilla in her wisdom, Suzanna should go her way beautifully unconscious of her good works.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE EAGLE MAN VISITS THE ATTIC
A few Saturdays after the marriage in the little wayside church, Richard Procter reached home in a state of great excitement.
The family was in the dining-room. Mrs. Procter was polishing the drinking glasses. Though it was long past noon, Suzanna had just commenced to clear away the luncheon dishes. Maizie was shaking napkins, while Peter was in a corner pretending to play ball with the baby, very much to the baby's amusement.
Mr. Procter told his news triumphantly.
"At last," he cried. "Jane, John Massey is absolutely coming to see the machine this afternoon."
The color flashed up into Mrs. Procter's face.