“All of which argues,” remarked Billie, “that it’s much more agreeable and comfortable to be a Motor Maid than a royal personage.”
A middle-aged woman dressed in black and a young girl who had wandered up to the tomb of Aveline of Lancaster, where the four girls and Miss Campbell had paused, exchanged an amused glance. As they were moving slowly away, Billie called softly:
“I think you dropped something.”
She had picked up a beautiful little sapphire brooch which had broken from its fastenings and lay shining like a bit of blue sky on the ancient gray floor.
“Oh, you are very kind,” exclaimed the girl hurrying back. “It is my favorite brooch. I would not have lost it for worlds. Thank you very, very much.”
“What charming manners,” thought Billie.
“How pretty she is,” thought Nancy.
“She is very high-bred looking,” was Elinor’s comment to herself.
And Mary thought:
“If she were turned to stone and laid on top of a tomb with her hands crossed, she would look very much like Aveline of Lancaster.”