The next day, Sunday, Julia went to church with Mijnheer and Joost;
Mevrouw did not find herself well enough for church, but she insisted
that Julia should not stay at home on her account. Accordingly the
girl accompanied father and son to the Groote Kerk and listened to
the rather dull service there. For the most part she sat with her eyes
demurely cast down, though once or twice she looked round the old
barn-like place, and wondered if there were any frescoes under the
whitewash of the walls and whence came the faint, all pervading smell,
like a phantom of incense long forgotten. When service was over and
they came out into the sunny street, Mijnheer announced that he was
going to see a friend. Julia, of course, must hurry home to set the
table for the mid-day coffee drinking, and afterwards prepare for
dinner. Joost was going back, likewise, and to her it was so natural a
thing they should go together that she never thought about it. It did
not, however, seem so to him, and after walking a few paces in
embarrassment, he said--

"You would perhaps prefer I did not walk with you?"

"Oh, no," she answered, in some surprise; "I shall be pleased, if you
are going the same way, that is."

He fidgeted, becoming more embarrassed. "You are sure you do not
mind?" he said. "It is a little conspicuous for you."

Then she understood, and looked up with twinkling eyes. "I am afraid I
am conspicuous, anyhow," she said.

This was true enough, for her clothes, fitting like an Englishwoman's,
and put on like a Frenchwoman's (the Polkingtons all knew how to
dress), were unlike any others in sight. Her face, too, dark and thin
and keenly alert, was unlike, and her light, easy walk; and if this
was not enough it must be added that she was now walking in the road
because the pavement was so crowded.

Joost stepped off the path to make room for her and she saw by his
face that his mind was not at ease.

"Pray, Mijnheer," she said, in her softest tones, and her voice had
many tones as her companion had not failed to notice, though he was
not aware that the softest was also usually the most mischievous,
"will you not walk the other side of the way? Then you will not be
conspicuous at all."

"I do not mind it," he said, blushing, and Julia decided that his
father's description of him as a retiring youth was really short of
the mark. They walked along together down the quiet, bright streets;
there were many people about, but nobo