must be lucky. No one else seemed to think a lemon tart was so bad.
By the night before the party, Molly and Emily both felt jittery with excitement as they blew up balloons and made party hats.
“Hey, Emily,” said Molly. “We’d better not forget to make crowns for ourselves.”
“Crowns?” asked Emily.
“Sure, so everyone will know we’re the princesses,” said Molly. “I think I have two long dress-up dresses we can wear.”
Emily laughed softly. “Oh, Molly, you’re thinking of fairy-tale princesses. Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret Rose wear normal clothes.”
“But I’ve seen pictures of them in crowns and long dresses,” said Molly stubbornly. “Remember? There’s a picture like that in your scrapbook.”
“That picture was taken when their father was crowned the King of England,” said Emily. “They don’t wear those clothes for a tea party.”
“Oh,” said Molly. She had imagined herself curtsying deep into a billow of skirt. “Well, at least I have a nice party dress from last year.”
“In fact, since it’s a wartime party, the princesses would probably wear skirts and jumpers—you call them sweaters,” said Emily. “They’d dress just as usual.”
This was too much. “I’m not wearing boring old school clothes to my birthday party,” Molly stated flatly. “All the other girls will have on their party dresses.”
“The princesses—” Emily began.
“I don’t care,” said Molly. “I’m going to wear my party dress and that’s final.”
“But then we won’t look like the princesses,” said Emily.
“Too bad,” said Molly.
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