“She’s in a very good humor this morning,” exclaimed Billie, trying to bottle up her overflowing spirits until the others had finished their toilets, that they might all go forth together to see the sights.
It was the morning after the opera and their thoughts were still taken up with the great occasion. Nancy hummed the wedding chorus as she twisted her curls around her fingers, and smiled lovingly at her image in the glass.
“Are you quite ready, now, children?” said Miss Campbell suddenly; a question which caused the Motor Maids to smile secretly, since Miss Helen herself had been keeping them all waiting some quarter of an hour, while she arranged her hat and veil, drew on her immaculate pearl-gray gloves and pinned a jabot of fine Irish lace at her neck.
“What are we to see first, Billie, dear? Have you arranged a schedule for the day? You are to be guide, remember.”
“I had planned Westminster Abbey,” said Billie, “if that’s agreeable to all concerned.”
It was decidedly a delightful thing to do, and two at least of the five tourists were thrilled at the notion. All her life Mary had longed to see the great cathedral, and Elinor, also, was moved with a deep pleasure at the thought. Nancy, gay butterfly that she was, was not so overcome by the solemnity of the visit.
“Has each person some special thing that she wants to see most? If so, let her wishes be known before we get there, so plans may be made accordingly,” announced Billie.
“I want to see the Stone of Scone where all the kings have been crowned,” observed Elinor.
“I want to see the tomb of Queen Elizabeth,” put in Nancy, after deep thought.
“I know why,” cried Billie. “Because she had several hundreds of dresses.”
“You’re just a tease, Billie. It’s because she was a great queen.”
“I want to see the Poets’ Corner,” announced Mary.
“We shall certainly see all those things and a great deal more,” said Miss Campbell.
They entered the Abbey by the western door and stood silently in a little group, looking up at the great stone arches which seemed to them like the spreading limbs of ancient forest trees. A pale ray of sunlight flickered in through one of the enormous windows; but the great church was dim and gloomy with age. Here lay most of England’s dead kings and queens and her great men.