Bubbly and Small Talk With Her Majesty

LONDON -- Queen Elizabeth II stood in the White Drawing Room, the late afternoon sun flowing in from the vast windows overlooking the Buckingham Palace gardens.

The soft sunlight made everything look lemony, from the lush carpets to the acres of golden curtains to the queen's perfectly tailored yellow dress and jacket ensemble. Her diamond brooch, the size of a small turtle, sparkled regally.

A handler announced my name.

She looked me in the eye, that face from British money suddenly alive, like a 20-pound note sizing me up.

She extended her hand in a long black glove.

She said nothing.

"Your Majesty," I said, taking her hand and shaking it gently.

The queen looked at me. Silence.

The receiving line was moving along -- she had 350 guests to greet. She's been doing this since Winston Churchill's days, and she knows how to do it efficiently. I suddenly realized I was in danger of meeting the queen and not having even a whiff of conversation to report to my mother.

"I hope you enjoy your trip," I said, referring to her upcoming visit to the United States.

The queen looked a little surprised, and her gaze drifted to my right. Apparently most people in the line were content with a handshake. Had I stepped over some line, violated some protocol, made some royal gaffe?

After a slight pause, she fixed me in the eyes again. Not smiling, but warm.