What a world was that of which a glimpse had been given her! Here, indeed, was something remote from her tedious life.

Her brain was full of vague glories, of the figures of kings and queens, of courtiers and fair ladies, of things nobly said and done; and her heart throbbed with indignation at wrongs greater than any she had ever imagined.

When it had all happened she knew not; surely very long ago! But the names she knew, Chelsea, Lambeth, the Tower--these gave a curiously fantastic reality to the fairy tale.

And one thing she saw with uttermost distinctness: that boat going down the stream of Thames, and the dear, dreadful head dropped into it from the arch above.

She would go and stand on the bridge and think of it.
Ah, she must tell Lyddy all that! Better still, she must read it to her.