ood in
the water looking after us long enough to see that there would be no
further incidents, then took a header into the waves again.

I'm not sure that my adventure did not add spice to the salt of my bath.
Anyhow, it was glorious, and I ran back to the villa at last tingling
with joy of life, in time to be let in by a maid who was cleaning the
door-steps. It was half-past seven, and breakfast was at eight. I had to
make haste with my toilet, but luckily there are few tasks which can't
be accompanied by a running fire of chat (that is, if one is a woman) so
I had told everything to Phyllis by the time I had begun fastening the
white serge frock in which I was to go to The Hague and the _Concours
Hippique_. Just then the Japanese gong sent forth its melancholy wail,
so we hurried down, and I forgot to tell Phyllis not to mention the
incident. I didn't think it the kind of incident which would be approved
by the van Buren family, and on second thoughts I didn't approve of it
myself.

Hardly were we comfortably seated at the table, however, when Phil told
Robert what a part his friend had played in my adventure. I could not
stop her, and when I was called upon for details, gave them rather than
seem to be secretive.

"We must be thankful that Brederode was taking his dip early," said
Robert. "I will tell him this afternoon that we are very grateful for
what he did."

I blushed consciously. "Oh, _must_ you?" I asked. "Somehow, I've an idea
he'll think it stupid of me to have mentioned it. Besides, maybe it
_wasn't_ your friend. Perhaps it was some one who looked like him.
The--er--dress was so different, and I had hardly seen Mr.
Brederode----"

"Jonkheer Brederode," corrected Freule Menela, softly.

I broke out laughing. "Jonkheer! Oh, do forgive me, but it sounds so
funny. I really _never_ could call a person Jonkheer, and take him
_seriously_."

"You will have to call him Jonkheer when I bring him to the box, after
he has finished his part in the _Concours Hippique_," said Robert.
"There is no one who looks like Rudolph Brederode, so it must have been
he. You can see this afternoon."

"But I don't _want_ to see," I objected, crossly, for I felt I could
not solemnly and adequately thank the young man before my listening
relatives, for popping out of the sea in his microscopic costume, and
coming to the rescue of me in mine. I had squeaked and curled up my
toes, and been altogether ridiculous; and I knew we s