"You know," she continued, "that Maizie and I crept downstairs one Saturday night because I wanted to tell daddy something, and mother was sitting right close to him, and we heard her say: 'When the children are safe in bed, and just you and I are here--then I see things clearer--' And he just looked at her and said, 'Sweetheart!' and his voice was nicer than even when he says good-night to Maizie and me." Miss Massey turned her gaze upon Suzanna. "Little girl, little girl," she said, "come here--" So Suzanna went and stood close to Miss Massey, whilst Maizie went after the marauding baby. The Eagle Man cleared his throat. "That child of yours is going to sleep," he said speaking to Suzanna. "Oh, no," said Suzanna, not meaning to contradict, but just to set him straight, "he's wide-awake. But I guess it must be time for us to go. I know you think so too, Mr. Eagle Man." She left Miss Massey's tender clasp, went to the baby, raised him, held him under her arm skilfully, the while his legs stuck out straight behind her. She spoke to Miss Massey: "If the Eagle Man's mad at you and he stays mad all night," she said, "you can come to our house and sleep in my bed with Maizie. Mother can fix the dining-room table for me." Miss Massey released herself from Robert's clasp and went to Suzanna. She stooped and kissed her tenderly. "Thank you, dear little girl," she said. "I'll remember that invitation." The Eagle Man pulled a cord hanging from the ceiling. Immediately it seemed, one of the men with brass buttons appeared. "Carry that child to its perambulator," shouted the Eagle Man. Not a flicker disturbed the serenity of the man addressed, no matter what were his inner feelings. He put out two arms straight and stiff like rods, and Suzanna placed the baby upon them. Saying quickly their adieus, Suzanna and Maizie walked behind the uniformed man, for whom Suzanna at least felt a stirring of pity. CHAPTER XVII A SIMPLE WEDDING "And so," concluded Suzanna early one afternoon as she stood on a soap box in her own yard, "the noble knight set forth on his prancing steed, having finished his deeds of blood. And all about him lay those he had slain." The children having listened entranced to the story, now stirred; Maizie was the first to speak. "I think the knight was horrid," she said. "I like him," said soft little Daphne who was now a constant, happy visitor at the Procter home. "I think a brave knight is bully," said Graham Bartlett, as constant a visitor as Daphne. "I would slay mine by the hundred," cried Peter boastfully. Graham looked off into the distance. "I shall fare forth some day," he said, "and lead my armies to victory proudly, yet disdainfully. I shall have no love in my heart, only sternness." "Drusilla can tell some wonderful tales of knights," said Suzanna. "Does she tell you stories when you go to visit her, Graham?"