-only, as Hans says, she is even lovelier, wiser, more like a fairy
godmother than ever.

Peter van Holp, also, is a married man. I could have told you before
that he and Hilda would join hands and glide through life together, just
as years ago they skimmed side by side over the frozen sunlit river.

At one time, I came near hinting that Katrinka and Carl would join
hands. It is fortunate that the report was not started, for Katrinka
changed her mind and is single to this day. The lady is not quite so
merry as formerly, and, I grieve to say, some of the tinkling bells are
out of tune. But she is the life of her social circle, still. I wish she
would be in earnest, just for a little while, but no; it is not in her
nature. Her cares and sorrows do nothing more than disturb the tinkling;
they never waken any deeper music.

Rychie's soul has been stirred to its depths during these long years.
Her history would tell how seed carelessly sown is sometimes reaped in
anguish and how a golden harvest may follow a painful planting. If I
mistake not, you may be able to read the written record before long;
that is, if you are familiar with the Dutch language. In the witty but
earnest author whose words are welcomed to this day in thousands of
Holland homes, few could recognize the haughty, flippant Rychie who
scoffed at little Gretel.

Lambert van Mounen and Ludwig van Holp are good Christian men and,
what is more easily to be seen at a glance, thriving citizens. Both are
dwellers in Amsterdam, but one clings to the old city of that name and
the other is a pilgrim to the new. Van Mounen's present home is not far
from Central Park, and he says if the New Yorkers do their duty the park
will in time equal his beautiful Bosch, near The Hague. He often thinks
of the Katrinka of his boyhood, but he is glad now that Katrinka, the
woman, sent him away, though it seemed at the time his darkest hour.
Ben's sister Jenny has made him very happy, happier than he could have
been with anyone else in the wide world.

Carl Schummel has had a hard life. His father met with reverses in
business, and as Carl had not many warm friends, and, above all, was
not sustained by noble principles, he has been tossed about by fortune's
battledore until his gayest feathers are nearly all knocked off. He is
a bookkeeper in the thriving Amsterdam house of Boekman and
Schimmelpenninck. Voostenwalbert, the junior partner, treats him kindly;
and he, in turn, is v