mpanion and to
run.

"My gracious, what a girl you are, to be sure!"

But they were both running in another minute, and laughing and chattering
like children escaped from school. In a quarter of an hour they were at
the entrance to the Horse Guards. There was a crowd at the gates, and a
policeman was taking tickets. Polly dived into her pocket.

"Where are mine? Oh, here they are. A great friend gave me them," she
whispered. "He has a chum in one of those offices."

"A gentleman," said Glory with studied politeness; but they were crushing
through the gate by that time, and thereafter she had eyes and ears for
nothing but the pageant before her.

It was a beautiful morning, and the spring foliage of the park was very
green and fresh. Three sides of the great square were lined with
redcoats; the square itself was thronged with people, and every window
and balcony looking over it was filled. There were soldiers, sentries,
policemen, the generals in cocked hats, and the Prince himself in a
bearskin, riding by with the jingle of spurs and curb-chain. Then the
ta-ra-ta-ta-ra of the bugle, the explosive voice crying, "Escort for the
colour!" the officer carrying it, the white gloves of the staff
fluttering up the salute, the flash of bayonets, the march round, and the
band playing The British Grenadiers. It was like a dream to Glory. She
felt her bosom heaving, and was afraid she was going to cry.

Polly was laughing and prattling merrily. "Ha, ha, ha! see that soldier
chasing a sunshade? My! he has caught it with his sword."

"I suppose these are all great people," whispered Glory.

"I should think so," said Polly. "Do you see that gentleman in the window
opposite?--that's the Foreign Office."

"Which?" said Glory, but her eyes were wandering.

"The one in the frock-coat and the silk hat, talking to the lady in the
green lawn and the black lace fichu and the spring bonnet."

"You mean beside that plain girl wearing the jungle of rhododendrons?"

"Yes; that's the gentleman that gave my friend the tickets."

Glory looked at him for a moment, and something very remote seemed to
stir in her memory; but the band was playing once more, and she was
wafted away again. It was God save the Queen this time, and when it ended
and everybody cried "All over!" she took a long, deep breath and said,
"_Well!_"

Polly was laughing at her, and Glory had to laugh also. They set each
other off laughing, and people began to look at