"And you might be the daughter of the Queen? Your eyes are
`moonlit pools of darkness.' If only your hair were stronger,
and you knew about making sunshine!"

"Maybe it is stronger than I think. It never has been tested.
Perhaps I do know about making sunshine. Possibly I am as true
as the wood and the carpet."

I drew away and stared at her. The longer I looked the more
uncertain I became. Maybe her mother was the Queen. Perhaps
that was the mystery. It might be the reason she didn't want the
people to see her. Maybe she was so busy making sunshine for the
Princess to bring to Laddie that she had no time to sew carpet
rags, and to go to quiltings, and funerals, and make visits. It
was hard to know what to think.

"I wish you'd tell me plain out if you are the Queen's daughter,"
I said. "It's most important. You can't have this letter unless
I KNOW. It's the very first time Laddie ever trusted me with a
letter, and I just can't give it to the wrong person."

"Then why don't you leave it where he told you?"

"But you have gone and found the place. You started to take it
once; you would again, soon as I left."

"Look me straight in the eyes, Little Sister," said the Princess
softly. "Am I like a person who would take anything that didn't
belong to her?"