Two Queens at the Abbey

“But why don’t they want us?” Elizabeth looked at Margaret with troubled eyes.“They’d like to have you, but they don’t want me, and I’d like to know why,” Margaret muttered.“That’s silly. They know they can’t have one of us without the other. I’d never be Queen unless you were Queen too.”“It’s jolly decent of you. But what’s wrong with me? I thought I was quite a nice girl,” Margaret groaned.“I wish those people would hurry up. We want to talk to Rachel,” and Elizabeth gazed across the cloister garth, waiting patiently for the Abbey Guardian to appear.They had come to the Abbey to consult the Abbot, a position Rachel, the guide and caretaker of the ruins, was filling very capably. To the younger generation of schoolgirls she had become counsellor and friend, and the twins had often come to her for help.They were bright, pretty girls of nearly fifteen with deep brown eyes and beautiful dark red hair worn in short curls. They were standing in the cloisters, looking across at the chapter-house door and windows, but at the sound of voices they vanished into a little room in the walls.