Would she not, as sure as anything,
sometime play before crowned heads by royal command? Sometimes, lying
wide-eyed in the dark, she pictured herself at such a moment, gorgeously
gowned, and delightfully disdainful of the bejeweled, becrowned, stately
kings and queens and little princelings, dukes and duchesses and earls
and countesses, all hanging on the exquisite notes she drew from her
strings. After she finished they would forget their crowns and things
and fall upon her in a sort of humble adoration. Beryl shivered
exquisitely, she could make the picture so very real! Now, when she
dreamed, the queens and duchesses looked like the mysterious mistress of
the house by the Rushing Water.
Robin thought of their Dowager Queen of Altruria as perhaps being a
little lonely, sometimes. With everyone, now, watching the weather in
anxious dread of a snowstorm, it occurred to her that such a storm
would shut the little house near the Rushing Water off from the world.
"Beryl, let's go and see our Dowager! It may be the last time we can
until Spring. I'd like to take her something, too. Something Christmasy.
Christmas is only two weeks off and think how dreadful to spend
Christmas all by yourself.
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