and walked away, muttering to himself. The girl turned to Caroline.
"Tell me," she demanded eagerly, her voice low and hurried, "how did you come here? Are you with friends? Where are they? What were you saying to that queen woman?"
"I—I—we were—I was Mary Queen of Scots," Caroline stammered, struggling, as the happy dreamer struggles, not to wake.
The girl started back from her, pale with an emotion that left her handsome face drawn and old.
"Good Heavens!—it can't be—a child! A child!" she cried. Tears stood in her dark eyes.
"How pitiful!" she said, softly, to herself. Then, forcing a smile, she leaned coaxingly over Caroline.
"I am only too delighted to make your Majesty's acquaintance," she said, her voice a little husky, but very sweet. "I have read of you often. But surely your Majesty has not been here long? I do not recall having seen you before to-day."
"N—no, you haven't," Caroline answered, a little grudgingly, "I only just came."
