Suzanna, listening, was carried away. She cried with eager response: "Why the night of the Indian Drill I can believe I am a fairy, dancing over snow-topped mountains, and singing, flying clear up into the clouds!" "You might fall, Suzanna," said Maizie, "you know you haven't wings." But on this occasion Suzanna was not to be recalled to earth, and besides in her queen's interested, understanding face, she felt a quick fellowship to the spirit that dwelt within her. And then breaking harshly into the wonder of this moment came the tinkle, tinkle of the electric bell. "Oh," cried Maizie, "someone is coming." "I shall brook no intruders," cried the queen. "No matter who it is?" asked Suzanna. "No matter who it is. I desire to be alone with my court. However, you can peep over the banisters and see who dares come thus upon us." Suzanna went to the top of the stairs. The maid was ushering in a lady and a boy. "Go right upstairs," Suzanna heard the maid say. "Mrs. Bartlett's in the attic with two of the Procter children." The visitors appeared at the top of the stairs and paused to glance in. The lady was beautifully dressed, quite exquisitely, from the dainty little toque upon her haughty head to her small gray cloth shoes. Her eyes, flashing from pansy shades to lightest blue, were cold. Her white skin seemed to hold no possibility of color. Yet, even as she stood, the milk of it turned to rose when Drusilla gazed at her with no warmth of recognition in her glance. The boy, about twelve, Suzanna surmised correctly, stood forward. There was some of his mother's haughtiness in his bearing, a great deal of her beauty. But added to both, a rare, high look as though always he were seeking what lay beyond his grasp, and perhaps his comprehension. He seemed altogether like a child whose emotional values did not stand clear. He gazed half prayerfully at his grandmother, as though asking and bestowing at the same time. Breaking into the embarrassing silence, Suzanna spoke: "Drusilla has her crown on," she said. "You see, she's a queen now, and she's been answering some questions of mine." The lady in the doorway looked at Suzanna meditatively. Then she spoke directly to Drusilla. "May I come in, mother?" she asked. "You see I've brought Graham." Drusilla began: "Court was in session. However, I shall be glad to have you remain." The boy, who had remained quiet, now spoke. "Oh, bully, mother; grandmother's playing again. I want to stay." But his mother put out a detaining hand as he attempted to enter the attic. "No--we can't stay now--" She spoke directly again to Drusilla. "We'll come again--when you are more--yourself." In a moment she was gone down the stairs, leaving after her a soft fragrance. The boy obediently followed her. In the hall below she encountered the maid. She whispered a few hurried words before taking her departure. The maid went up immediately into the attic.