“What are we going to see this morning?” Betty asked on the following Saturday.
“We’re not going to see anything till I know whether you remember at least the names of the kings between Richard the Second and Queen Elizabeth,” returned Godmother firmly.
“Oh, then, it’s to Queen Elizabeth’s time we’re going presently?” Betty exclaimed. “I shall like that. I really do know the kings after Richard the Second, Godmother. So I’ll make haste about them. Henry the Fourth came next, and he was a usurper. Then Henry the Fifth. After him, Henry the Sixth (when the Wars of the Roses began), then Edward the Fourth, next Edward the Fifth, the poor little murdered-in-the-Tower king. After him, Richard the Third, his cruel uncle. Then Henry the Seventh, Henry the Eighth, Edward the Sixth (who died young), and then his sister Mary, and then his other sister Elizabeth.”
“Well done!” said Godmother, laughing, as Betty rattled off the names. “Well, the reigns of all those sovereigns took up about a hundred and sixty years. So when we magically see London again, it will be a hundred and sixty years older than it was at our last visit.”
“Oh, can’t we go back at once?” Betty urged impatiently.
“Not quite at once. The car is here, and I’m going to take you to the Royal Exchange.”
Much as she loved the magic part of these Saturdays, Betty also enjoyed the drives through modern London, especially as she knew the magic would come later. So she gladly followed Godmother into the waiting car.
“The Royal Exchange?” she began, almost before they were seated. “I’ve been past it often. It’s that big place near the Bank and the Mansion House. But I don’t know what it’s for.”
“It’s the great centre for English trade affairs. There, everything that has to do with England’s commerce is discussed by the merchants who meet to talk and arrange their business.”
In a very short time they reached that busy part of the City where, close together, stand the Bank of England, the Mansion House, and the Royal Exchange. But before the car drew up, Godmother had called Betty’s attention to the names of two streets close by, and also, a moment later, to a curious sign hanging from a house. The first street was called Gresham Street, and the sign not far from it was a large gilded grasshopper over a door in Lombard Street.