ing? Yes, dreaming again of soaring and
falling. There was Femke.

Of course there had to be something about her in his dream, and about
bleaching the clothes. Father Jansen was there, too, exhibiting to
the stars the particular garment that Femke had patched. Orion and
the Great Bear admired this specimen of her handiwork. Walter did not.

"Did you do it yourself?" he heard Sietske asking in the next room. "Or
couldn't you get through the crowd?"

"No, it was impossible to get through such a mob. I turned it over
to the man with the peddler's wagon."

What was that? Walter sat up. Father Jansen was gone; Orion, too;
and the clouds, and the "masses"; but--that voice!

He heard it again.

"I know him very well--oh, so well! He's a good boy." This he heard
Femke say!

He jumped up and ran into the room where the Holsmas were. He saw
a triangular piece of a woman's dress disappear through the door;
then the door closed.

He didn't have the courage--or was something else beside courage
necessary to ask, "Is that Femke?"

On his way home that evening Walter did not suffer in the least
from the sensation of being borne through the air; or from anything
similar. He was on the earth, very much on the earth. He felt lowly.

If he had only seen that bit of Femke's dress somewhere else, and
not at the Holsmas--not in that swell family; not in the company
of Sietske, who had so much money in her "savings-bank," nor in the
presence of the vain William, who was studying Latin!

He was brave enough to feel ashamed of himself; and that's all I can
say in his favor.

Let us now look at things from the point of view of Juffrouw
Pieterse. That lady was in the clouds. She was hoping that the
messenger who had brought her news of Walter had not been able to
find her flat at once. The idea of someone from Dr. Holsma's asking
for her through the neighborhood was decidedly pleasant. The longer
he might have had to inquire for her the better!

"Of course he was at the grocer's," she said. "Such messengers
never know where they have to go. Of course he told that the 'young
gentleman' was staying at Dr. Holsma's! And such a man always
tattles; such people don't do anything but tattle. But, as far as
I'm concerned, everybody can know it. I only mean that such people
like to tattle. But--say, Walter, how did it happen that you went
with the family? You're a nice rascal. Stoffel, what do you say?"

Stoffel made a serious face--as