refreshment, and Irene bestowed herself on his right hand, and drank
her
milk out of a wooden bowl curiously carved.
After the king had eaten and drunk, he turned to the princess and said,
stroking her hair--
"Now, my child, what shall we do next?"
This was the question he almost always put to her first after their meal
together; and Irene had been waiting for it with some impatience, for
now, she thought, she should be able to settle a question which
constantly perplexed her.
"I should like you to take me to see my great old grandmother."
The king looked grave, and said--
"What does my little daughter mean?"
"I mean the Queen Irene that lives up in the tower--the very old lady,
you know, with the long hair of silver."
Madhuri Noah
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