Suzanna's face fell. Maizie put out a small hand and touched her sister. "I'll help you," she said, "if you want me to." "Very well," said Suzanna, and together the children went upstairs. In the little room shared by the sisters, Suzanna went to work. Ardently she shook pillows and carefully she smoothed sheets, while Maizie, with a reflective eye ever upon Suzanna, dusted the dresser and hung up the clothes. "Is your mother well this morning?" asked Suzanna politely. "Why, you saw her," Maizie cried off guard. "She didn't have a headache this morning, did she?" "I'm speaking of _your_ mother," said Suzanna. "You belong to an entirely different family from me." "Well," said Maizie after a time, "she's not suffering, thank you." "Have you any brothers and sisters?" pursued Suzanna in an interested though rather aloof tone. "Oh, yes," said Maizie, trying hard to fill her role satisfactorily. "We have a very large family, and once we had twins." Suzanna looked her pity. "I'm so glad," she said, "that I'm an Only Child. This morning I was very joyous when I had whipped cream and oatmeal." "You just had syrup, Suzanna Procter!" cried Maizie. Suzanna cast a scathing look at her sister: "I had whipped cream!" she cried, "because I am an Only Child!" Then falling into her natural tone: "If you forget again, Maizie, I can't even be a friend of yours." She continued after a pause, reassuming her Only-Child voice, "That's why I wear this beautiful satin dress and diamond bracelets and shining buckles on my shoes." Now Maizie saw only Suzanna's lawn dress, rather worn Sunday shoes with patent leather tips; she saw Suzanna's bare arms. "Maybe you'd like, really, to wear a white satin dress and bracelets and buckles, but you know you haven't got them, don't you, Suzanna?" she asked. Suzanna did not answer, plainly ignoring Maizie's conciliatory tone, and so finding the silence continuing unbroken, Maizie changed the subject. "Will you play school with me this afternoon, Suzanna?" Suzanna thought a moment: "I don't just know. I may go and play with some of the other girls today, and, remember, if I do that a friend can't get mad like a sister can." Maizie began to whimper. "All right, if you're going to act that way, I am going off to see Drusilla," with which statement Suzanna turned and went downstairs. Maizie came running down after her. "Mother, mother," she called loudly, "I don't like Suzanna when she's the Only Child." Mrs. Procter, busy with the baby, looked up. She was a little cross now. "I wish, Suzanna," she said, "that you would learn to be sensible and not always be acting in plays you make up." Suzanna, who a moment before had bounded joyfully into her mother's presence, now paused, the light dying from her eyes. She looked at her mother and her mother, uncomfortable beneath the steady gaze, spoke again with an irritation partially assumed.