Mary Regina

Good, grey Queen Mary was not exactly gadding about, but she was certainly getting around for her 78 years. Seven times in a few weeks her familiar figure swept statuesquely into London theaters and cinemas. Last week she had been back to see that old musical standby, Merrie England, as well as a new musical comedy, Under the Counter.

Queen Mary (she hates being called the Queen Mother) is as fond of the flicks as of the footlights. Her taste in films is catholic. This season she has already seen The Seventh Veil, Sailors Do Care (twice), the world premiere of Shaw's Caesar and Cleopatra, and a sexy piece called The Wicked Lady, in which the earthiest dialogue had been discreetly toned down for one performance. (Next day Queen Mary alertly dispatched a lady in waiting to see the show and report what she had missed.)

Usually the Queen satisfies her curiosity on the spot. After seeing The Seventh Veil, she sent for the youthful star, Ann Todd, and demanded: ''Tell me, my child, which of the three men did you choose? I couldn't tell--I didn't have my glasses."

The old Queen, who likes to consider herself a Cockney by choice if not by birth, is happiest in London. Only on the express command of George VI did she consent to sit out the war in Gloucestershire. Now she is back in blitzed but unbroken Maryborough House, living in six of its 200 rooms with a handful of loyal retainers on her civil grant of -L-70,000 ($280,000) a year. She hardly ever entertains any more. When she does, her meals are patriotically, chillingly austere.

Lillibet and David. Right now the Queen is watching the ladylike gamboling of her favorite granddaughter Princess Elizabeth (TIME, Nov. 26), with a mildly critical eye. "Lillibet" can have some fun before she becomes Queen, but she must take care not to become another David

(Duke of Windsor). In Lillibet's case Grandma has modernized her idea of fun to include such excursions as that of last week, when the Princess and a party of friends dined & wined at the Bagatelle, one of Mayfair's toniest nightspots, till past midnight, listened to a red-haired Russian sing Englishmen Never Make Love by Day, danced rumbas and tangos till the band went home. Elizabeth's escort was an old family friend, married, bespectacled Charles Villiers (pronounced Villers), a former colonel in the Grenadier Guards.

But the mellowing years have not relaxed all Mary's rigorous regal standards. She still will not receive a divorced person, not even her daughter-in-law, the Duchess of Windsor. David himself could not break down that royal taboo when he tried two months ago. Instead, Mama, whose own taste in hats leans to the conservative, made him change his sporty green porkpie for a sober bowler.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.