Their hostess told them of some of the quaint cathedral towns
and the stories of the cathedrals themselves. Robin, who had an
inherited appreciation of beauty, listened eagerly, putting in now and
then a question or a statement of such intelligence that the "Dowager
Queen" studied her with interest.
Beryl, thrilled by the ermine and the gleaming brooch, did not care a
fig about the cathedrals but sat back in a rapture of speculation. There
seemed something in the stately head with its crown of white hair,
vaguely, tantalizingly familiar; she must have seen pictures of the
Queen of Altruria somewhere. She watched each gesture and fitted it to
her dream. This Queen who seemed really truly friendly now and almost
human, might go back some day to Altruria, wherever that was, and of
course, when _she_ toured Europe, or maybe even when she was there
studying, she could go and stay at the Palace just like a relative. It
would be fun to visit in a palace and smile at all the fuss and crowns
and things because you were an American and didn't believe in them.
"Oh, we forgot our basket!" cried Robin, suddenly darting to the door
where Brina had, with a sniff, dropped their precious offering.
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