They stayed a long time in the Public Library. In it were many rooms and in some were beautiful paintings. To see them, they climbed a marble stair where great lions kept guard. Dora at once revised her ideas of fairy palaces. If only that windowful of silks could be hung on the walls of the marble stair, it would be better than any palace of which she had read. On the walls of one room were paintings about Sir Galahad. Lucy and Dora knew his story and how he went to seek the Holy Grail. Miss Chandler explained each painting. Then she took them into a pleasant room with low bookcases and small tables and chairs and told them that it belonged to the children of Boston. All the books on the shelves were books which children liked to read. Dora looked at the shelves carefully. It would be nice to have a library just for children, with no grown-ups at all. Still, the Westmore library was nice, and a little town didn’t need a big library like Boston. Some of the books she saw on the shelves were in the children’s corner of the Westmore library. “Now I think it is time for luncheon,” said Miss Chandler. “We will have it rather early because I have a plan for this afternoon and I don’t want you to get too tired.” Lucy and Dora had not thought about eating, but now it was mentioned, they both felt hungry. Miss Chandler stopped an electric car near the library. To the amusement of the children, after running a few blocks down a wide street, the car dived underground. Cars in Boston seemed to have this habit. When they came out of the subway they were in a different part of town, one which was crowded with people and had many large stores. Miss Chandler took them into one of these stores and up in an elevator to where there was a restaurant with music playing. First they washed their hands and smoothed their hair and then sat at a pretty round table with two pink asters in a vase. In every direction were tables with people eating luncheon. The waitresses wore gray linen uniforms and white caps, and boys in white suits carried away trays of used dishes. The place was so large and strange that Dora was glad Miss Chandler was with them. “What would you like for lunch?” Miss Chandler asked. “Ice-cream, please,” said Lucy. “Oh, yes!” said Dora. “I would like that best of anything, Aunt Margaret.” “We will have ice-cream for dessert,” said Miss Chandler, “but we must eat something else first.” Neither Lucy nor Dora cared especially what they had for lunch. There was too much to see for them to feel interested in the paper which had printed on it the things to eat. “We will have fricasseed chicken and baked potatoes and rolls,” said Miss Chandler. “I will have some coffee and you girls shall have milk. Then we will all order ice-cream.”