"Saturday morning?" asked Mrs. Procter, dubiously. "Well, I suppose that it won't really matter." "I'm going to see Daphne," Maizie announced. "Remember to be at home by noon," said Mrs. Procter. "Father may be here for luncheon." "I'll remember, mother," said Suzanna. She kissed her mother, said good-bye to Mrs. Reynolds and started happily away. She reached the house at the top of the hill in a short time. The same uniformed man as of old gave her immediate admittance. "Mr. Massey is in the library," he said, evincing no surprise at Suzanna's unconventional appearance. In the doorway of the library Suzanna hesitated a moment, for the sound of voices came to her. Then she went forward, and there, standing near the white marble mantelpiece was the Eagle Man, near him Suzanna's father. "Daddy," Suzanna cried, and ran to him. Mr. Procter turned. His face, slightly older than when he was an employee of Job Doane of the hardware shop, was still that of the idealist, the lover of men. Yet there was a something added. Perhaps his well-fitting clothes gave him the new air of efficiency, of directness. "I didn't know you'd be here with the Eagle Man, daddy," Suzanna cried. Her father smiled at her. The Eagle Man spoke. "Your father is my right-hand man, remember, little girl," he answered. He brought out the sentence clearly with no strain of embarrassment. "Right-hand man," Suzanna repeated thoughtfully. "I don't quite know what that means." "Well, it means that your father looks after my interests in a very capable way," old John Massey returned. "Don't you remember how the new homes went up under his direction for my employees?" "Yes, I remember," said Suzanna, "those beautiful new, brick houses, and the clean yards for the babies to play in." "And now your father is in my mill as my superintendent, looking after the men." He paused. "How would you describe your way with them, Mr. Procter?" "Looking after them humanly, perhaps," put in Mr. Procter simply. "All right, we'll let it go just that way. In any event if you're making them happier by shifting them about a bit, trying to fit them by natural adaptability to their jobs and so increasing efficiency, I am satisfied with any way you put it." Mr. Procter stood a little ill at ease. It was so very rare for old John Massey to so graciously express himself, almost unheard of. "You see," said the Eagle Man, softly, "I'm using Suzanna as a mask; I'm telling her what I couldn't say to your face, Richard Procter." He stretched out his hand and Richard Procter let his own fall into it. The two men stood thus bound in a spirit of perfect friendship. Suzanna went on upstairs. She found "Miss Massey" in a large room with pink curtains at the windows, pink rugs on the floor and even pink chairs and sofas. Like a sea shell, Suzanna thought. The baby lay in a beautiful rose-tinted crib drawn near the window, and above the crib the new mother bent. She turned when Suzanna knocked softly.