“These ladies will enjoy a walk,” said the Queen.

Very sulkily the two elegant doll-ladies got out of their carriage, not daring to disobey, and passed by Ann, noses in the air, without so much as a nod.

“Never mind them, dears,” said the Queen kindly.  “They don’t know any better.  Now jump in!”

The children obeyed, hardly able to believe in their good luck, and in another moment, much to the surprise and indignation of Captain Jinks, they were rolling away from him, the Queen riding close beside their carriage.

“You are safe now,” said she, “at least until the revolution begins.  If Jinks should fire his cannon, that’s a sign it’s starting, but don’t worry”—­as she saw that the children were looking rather alarmed—­“I dare say it will blow over without a battle.  And now I want you to look about you, for I don’t think you have ever seen anything like this before.”

They had not indeed, and as their shyness wore off, the children began to ask the Queen a great many questions.  Was this her capital city they were coming to?  Were those the stores where all the dolls’ clothes in the world came from?  Was it real water in the little fountain playing in the middle of the square?  All this time they were being carried swiftly through the streets of the neatest, prettiest, little, toy town any one could wish to see.  Both sides of the main street were lined with little shops, and as the children leaned out of the carriage for a brief glimpse into their glittering windows, they saw sights that made them long to stop and look more closely.

There were clothing shops, shoe shops, candy shops, a very grand-looking milliner’s establishment where the children were amused to catch a glimpse of Angelina-Elfrida and Marie-Louise trying on hats, and a gaily decorated doll theater where a crowd of dolls were pushing their way in to see a Punch and Judy show.  There were markets where busy customers thronged to buy all sorts and kinds of doll eatables, turkeys and chickens the size of sparrows and humming-birds, yellow pumpkins as big as walnuts, red-cheeked apples like cranberries, cabbages fully as large as the end of your thumb, and freshly baked pies as big around as a penny.

Peter’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he passed all these good things without hope of sampling any of them!  The last shop they passed was that of the royal baker, and they noticed that its windows were boarded up, while a crowd of common dolls stood about in front of the door, muttering angrily.

But now the business part of the town was left behind, and the children were being driven through street after street of gaily painted, neatly built, little houses with gardens full of tiny bright-colored flowers, stables, garages—­everything complete that the heart of the most exacting doll in the world could desire.  Ann and Peter were quite wild about it all, and even Rudolf condescended to admire.