Her Majesty’s Nightgown

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At the nearest café we collapsed over a cup of coffee. I sipped and daydreamed about a lovely princess, a handsome prince, and a royal wedding. Mary Louise sat slumped and frowning.

“It’ll never get there. Somebody will toss it in a back room somewhere, and it’ll be forgotten forever. We’ll never know what became of it.” She sighed.

But we did know. About two weeks later she burst into my office waving a newspaper.

“Look!”

It was an article about the royal wedding, and it noted that while Princess Elizabeth’s trousseau was mostly British, two pieces came from the United States—an ivory Georgette nightgown and a brocade robe covered with little lords and ladies dancing.

I couldn’t resist the smug tone. “I told you it was the right address.”