for his carelessness.

As they rushed homeward, both girls thought of the house they had left
and its lonely occupant.

"Wouldn't wonder a _bit_ if she might be some royalty person hiding here
from anarchists," whispered Beryl, with a burst of imagination, amazing
for her, tinged by a novel she had recently read.

"Would we dare go again to see her?"

"Of course we're going. Even if you don't, I want to find out who she is
and all about her."

"_I'd_ just like to see her again and that darling dog. If she doesn't
want to tell us who she is I don't want her to! It's more fun to pretend
that her house is made of bread and cake and sugar."

"Pooh!" was Beryl's impatient answer.

And that evening, as though in defense of her suspicions she thrust a
newspaper under Robin's nose with an expressive "There, read _that_!" at
the same time pointing to an inconspicuous paragraph.

The paragraph told of the mysterious disappearance of its Dowager Queen
from the little warring Balkan kingdom of Altruria.

"She could be in this country as well as not. I read a book once where a
Duke hid for five years right in the heart of New York and then met his
heir face to face on Broadway. Wouldn't it be fun if that old woman
_was_ this Dowager Queen?"

"But, Beryl, she talked English. Wouldn't she talk--some other
language?"

Beryl was not to be discouraged. "Dowagers don't. They talk ever so many
tongues. English as good as any. I'll bet anything you say. You just
wait."

CHAPTER XI

POT ROAST AND CABBAGE SALAD

The following Wednesday had been set for Mrs. Lynch's dinner of "pot
roast and cabbage salad."

"You'll think we're awfully poor, Robin, when you see that mean old
cottage," Beryl complained as the girls were dressing for the dinner.

Robin, hesitating between a Madonna blue and a yellow dress, turned
quickly at the tone in Beryl's voice.

"Oh, Beryl, what difference does your house make! I want to know your
mother and your father and--Dale."

"Well, there's no use your dressing up--it'll just make everything else
there look absurdly shabby."

Robin laid the garment she held down upon the bed. A puzzled look
darkened the glow in her eyes. There were a great many times when she
found it difficult to understand Beryl's changing moods. She herself was
too indifferent to clothes to know that it was the two pretty gowns she
had brought out from her wardrobe that had now sent Beryl into the
dumps.

"I wo