At least, he thought it was that way; and it was that way. But everyone
in the parquet thought that the kiss had been intended for him. Folk
of quality were annoyed at the insolence of the peasant wench; while
more "sporty" persons returned the attention.

Soon hissing was heard. The news had leaked out that Princess Erika,
the cousin of the king, had dressed in the national costume to show
her affection for the people.

"Don't you believe it, M'neer? I tell you that is Femke," Walter
assured him with tears in his eyes.

"No, no, my boy. That girl is not Femke."

"But, she greeted me!"

"You saw the emperor greet her; and you know he would not salute
a wash-girl."

That was perhaps true; but it was hard for Walter to accept it. And,
on the other hand, it was just as hard for him to believe that the
princess was a cousin of the Holsmas.

Again he imagined that the girl was nodding to him and motioning her
lips. It looked to him as if she said: "My brother!" Walter lisped
the words after her and pressed both hands to his breast.

Yes, now he had it! They considered him a little daft and wanted
to cure him of his fixed idea. That would explain the visit to the
theatre and also Femke's alleged unwillingness to come with Uncle
Sybrand. But--how did she dare to interfere with the policeman? And
the greeting from the emperor? And how did Holsma know that he had
"denied" Femke, and that her presence could threaten his peace of mind?

"Oh, M'neer, let Femke sit here! I will be perfectly quiet. I am so
afraid she will get hurt up there among those men."

Holsma looked at him wistfully. After all, could Kaatje have been
right about it? He sought to distract Walter's attention by referring
to other things; but it was useless.

"All right," said Holsma at last "I just wanted to tease you a
little. Femke is sitting up there, because she--doesn't wish to sit
here. She thinks that it wouldn't be proper, because she's only a
wash-girl. She's afraid we would be ashamed. You see?"

"M'neer, no one need be ashamed to sit by her. Not even the emperor."

"Yes, yes," agreed Holsma. "Quite so. Femke is a brave girl and
doesn't need to cringe before anybody. Watch the play, my boy."

Walter was willing to do what the doctor said, but not without taking
leave of that glorious apparition. He looked up; and she smiled to
him again. Then she took from her breast a rose branch, with three
buds on it, held it a moment between the