impatience, for now, she thought, she should be able to settle a
question which constantly perplexed her.

'I should like you to take me to see my great old grandmother.'

The king looked grave And said:

'What does my little daughter mean?'

'I mean the Queen Irene that lives up in the tower - the very old
lady, you know, with the long hair of silver.'

The king only gazed at his little princess with a look which she
could not understand.

'She's got her crown in her bedroom,' she went on; 'but I've not
been in there yet. You know she's there, don't you?'

'No,' said the king, very quietly.

'Then it must all be a dream,' said Irene. 'I half thought it was;
but I couldn't be sure. Now I am sure of it. Besides, I couldn't
find her the next time I went up.'

At that moment a snow-white pigeon flew in at an open window and
settled upon Irene's head. She broke into a merry laugh, cowered
a little, and put up her hands to her head, saying:

'Dear dovey, don't peck me. You'll pull out my hair with your long
claws if you don't mind.'