"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."
The king only gazed at his little princess with a look which she could
not understand.
"She's got her crown in her bedroom," she went on; "but I've not been
in
there yet. You know she's here, don't you?"
"No," said the king very quietly.
"Then it must be all a dream," said Irene. "I half thought it was; but
I couldn't be sure. Now I _am_ sure of it. Besides, I couldn't find her
the next time I went up."
At that moment a snow-white pigeon flew in at an open window and,
with a
flutter, settled upon Irene's head. She broke into a merry laugh,
cowered a little and put up her hands to her head, saying-Madhuri Noah
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