They found Williams waiting for them at the store, worried at their disappearance and annoyed at the delay. He had walked many miles in payment for his carelessness.
As they rushed homeward, both girls thought of the house they had left and its lonely occupant.
"Wouldn't wonder a bit if she might be some royalty person hiding here from anarchists," whispered Beryl, with a burst of imagination, amazing for her, tinged by a novel she had recently read.
"Would we dare go again to see her?"
"Of course we're going. Even if you don't, I want to find out who she is and all about her."
"I'd just like to see her again and that darling dog. If she doesn't want to tell us who she is I don't want her to! It's more fun to pretend that her house is made of bread and cake and sugar."
"Pooh!" was Beryl's impatient answer.
And that evening, as though in defense of her suspicions she thrust a newspaper under Robin's nose with an expressive "There, read that!" at the same time pointing to an inconspicuous paragraph.
The paragraph told of the mysterious disappearance of its Dowager Queen from the little warring Balkan kingdom of Altruria.
"She could be in this country as well as not. I read a book once where a Duke hid for five years right in the heart of New York and then met his heir face to face on Broadway. Wouldn't it be fun if that old woman was this Dowager Queen?"