The Mystery of the Queen's Necklace

line. “I can’t think how you could be so rude.” She turned back to her meal and left Trixie squirming.
    “Just her youthful spirits,” McDuff said kindly. He then insisted on leaving right away to see what other accommodations he could arrange for them that night.
    Dinner was roast duckling with orange sauce, the specialty of the house, but Trixie felt too awful to eat much. The rest of the group were remarkably quiet as well, and the delicious meal was not enjoyed as it should have been.
    “You know, Trixie,” Miss Trask said, to break the silence after dinner, “you might consider that your behavior in a foreign country could lead its people to dislike all Americans. I know you’ve been feeling that the English are unfriendly, Trixie, but what about you? Have you thought about your actions from their point of view?”
    “I—I guess not,” Trixie said miserably. Honey squeezed her hand under the table, but that didn’t help much.
    Since it was late in the evening and the town was jammed with summer tourists, the only rooms McDuff was able to find were in two bed-and-breakfast houses next door to each other. After they got settled, he brushed off Miss Trask’s concern about his dinner.
    “I’ll just get a bite in a pub,” he assured her. “Perhaps ye would like to come along for a glimpse of the night life in Stratford?”
    The boys agreed enthusiastically, but all Trixie wanted to do was crawl into bed and hide her burning face. Honey, who was sharing her room, insisted on staying with her. Miss Trask hesitated, obviously torn between remaining with the girls and going out with the others.
    “Please don’t worry about us, Miss Trask,” Trixie said earnestly. “We’ll be okay.”
    “Just be good,” sighed Miss Trask.
    “One place ye don’t want to miss is the Black Swan, otherwise known as the Dirty Duck,” McDuff said as he escorted Miss Trask and the boys out the door. “That’s where the Shakespearean actors hang out after the show....”
    “I’ve been thinking,” Trixie told Honey, after they got into their pajamas and turned out the light, “about what Miss Trask said about looking at things from other people’s points of view. Well, I could start with her and McDuff—I mean, Mr. McDuff. I’ve been worrying about what if she really fell in love with him and went off to Scotland, or Canada, or wherever.”
    “Me, too,” Honey admitted. “I like Mr. McDuff a lot, but Miss Trask is, well, like my own family. I’d miss her terribly if she moved away.”
    What Honey didn’t say out loud, but what Trixie knew, was that Miss Trask was almost more important to Honey, in certain ways, than her own family. Her parents were often away on business, and before Miss Trask had come, Honey had been left in the care of a perfectly horrible governess. Miss Trask was the best of friends to all the Bob-Whites, but especially to Honey.
    “But maybe—maybe we are just thinking too much about ourselves,” Trixie said. “You know, about how much fun we have when she goes along on our trips, and how she’s always there for you when your parents are away.”
    “And how much help she is to my parents, too,” Honey agreed, “managing the estate.”
    “And even when she’s disappointed in me, like tonight,” Trixie said, “I just love her. I don’t want her to get married and go away. But if she wants to—I mean, if it would make her happy, like she seems to be with Mr. McDuff around—well---you see what I mean?”
    “Yes.” In the darkness, Honey’s voice sounded very serious. “Yes, Trix, I see what you mean.”
    Trixie’s resolution to start thinking from other people’s points of view was even stronger when she woke up the following morning. Over another delicious English breakfast, the Bob-Whites planned their sight-seeing activities for their first day in Stratford.
    “I have to see Shakespeare’s house,” said Mart. “What about you, Trixie?”
    “You go ahead,” Trixie said. “I have other plans.”
    “Other plans?” her brother hooted. “Like getting us evicted from another hotel in Stratford?”
    Miss Trask shook her head at him. “What did you have in mind, Trixie?” she asked kindly.
    “Well, I’m not exactly sure. I just don’t want to be a typical Yankee tourist today,” Trixie said. “I want to—oh, just walk around.” Trixie couldn’t explain what she meant. It would sound too corny. She wanted to meet some real live English people and get