Flemild laughed, only then realising the absurdity of her own remark. It augured well for her good sense that she could recognise the absurdity when it was pointed out to her.
Coming down the ladder, they found Anania seated below.
“Well, girls! did you see the Queen?”
“Oh, we had a charming view of her,” said Flemild.
“Folks say she’s not so charming, seen a bit nearer. You know Veka, the wife of Chembel? She told me she’d heard Dame Ediva de Gathacra say the Queen’s a perfect fury when she has her back up. Some of the scenes that are to be seen by nows and thens in Westminster Palace are enough to set your hair on end. And her extravagance! Will you believe it, Dame Ediva said, this last year she gave over twenty pounds for one robe. How many gowns would that buy you and me, Aunt Isel?”
At the present value of money, Her Majesty’s robe cost rather more than 500.
“Bless you, I don’t know,” was Isel’s answer. “Might be worth cracking my head over, if I were to have one of ’em when I’d done. But there’s poor chance of that, I reckon; so I’ll let it be.”
“They say she sings superbly,” said Flemild.
“Oh, very like. Folks may well sing that can afford to give twenty pound for a gown. If she’d her living to earn, and couldn’t put a bit of bread in her mouth, nor in her children’s, till she’d worked for it, she’d sing o’ t’other side her mouth, most likely.”
“Anania, don’t talk so unseemly. I’m sure you’ve a good enough place.”