“Polly Love.”
At ten o'clock that morning the two girls set out for their long day's jaunt.
“Now where shall we go?” said Polly.
“Let's go where we can see a great many people,” said Glory.
“That's easy enough, for this is the Queen's birthday, and——”
Glory thought of Aunt Rachel and made a cry of delight.
“And now that I think of it,” said Polly, as if by a sudden memory, “I've got tickets for the trooping of the colours—the Queen's colours, you know.”
“Shall we see her?” said Glory.
“What a question! Why, no, but we'll see the soldiers, and the generals, and perhaps the Prince. It's at ten-thirty, and only across the park.”
“Come along,” said Glory, and she began to drag at her companion and to run.