looked at one another in amazement and seemed to doubt that their
ears had heard aright.

"These intruders are very peculiar people," remarked a man in the
crowd.

"They seem very ignorant, poor things!" said another in reply.

"Come!" commanded the woman who led the party. "You three must
follow me to the presence of Tourmaline. The people must wait
outside, for there is no room for them in the palace."

So they followed her through the low archway, and in a room beyond,
very simply furnished, sat a young girl engaged in darning a pair of
pink stockings. She was a beautiful girl of about seventeen years of
age, not fat like all the rest of the Pinkies but slender and well
formed according to our own ideas of beauty. Her complexion was not
a decided pink, but a soft, rosy tint not much deeper than that of
Trot's skin. Instead of a silken gown furbelowed like all the others
they had seen women wear in this land, Tourmaline was dressed in a
severely plain robe of coarse pink cloth much resembling bedticking.
Across her brow, however, was a band of rose gold, in the center of
which was set a luminous pink jewel which gleamed more brilliantly
than a diamond. It was her badge of office and seemed very
incongruous when compared with her poor rainment and simple
surroundings.

As they entered, the girl sighed and laid down her work. Her
expression was patient and resigned as she faced her audience. "What
is it, Coralie?" she asked the woman.