t, widest water-jump was taken with one long, flying
leap; and then, doffing his hat low to the Royal Box, the conqueror rode
away in a storm of applause.

"It's always like that. Brederode never fails in anything he
undertakes," said Robert, as happy as if he, and not his friend, had
been the victor. "I'm off to congratulate him now."

Two minutes later I saw the hero among the crowd, his head towering
above most other heads; then I lost sight of him, and turned again to
watch the course, for the riding was not nearly finished yet. But with
the triumph of the great Water Beggar's descendant, the best was over.
No one else did as well as he, or had as fine a horse, and I found
myself looking for him and Robert. Maybe Robert would bring him to the
box in spite of all. It was a pity the others should be cheated of a
word with him--which even the twins seemed to hope for--just because
Robert had to punish me.

But he did not come, nor did Robert until after the Royalties had gone,
and Cousin Cornelia was ready to go too.

RUDOLPH BREDERODE'S POINT OF VIEW

VIII

I don't often do things that I have set my mind against doing, but when
Destiny lays a hand on one's steering-gear, unexpected things happen.

My idea has always been that, when my time came to fall seriously in
love, the girl would be a Dutch girl. I like and respect Dutch girls.
When you want them, there they are. There's no nonsense in them--at
least, as little as possible, considering that they are females. They
don't fuss about their temperaments, and imagine themselves Mysteries,
and Chameleons, and Anomalies, and make themselves and their lovers
miserable by trying to be inscrutable. You can generally tell pretty
well what they are going to do next, and if you don't want them to, you
can prevent them from doing it. Also they have good nerves and good
complexions, and for these reasons, and many others, make perfect wives
for men with family traditions to keep up. That is why I always intended
to fall seriously in love with a Dutch girl, although my mother was an
Englishwoman, and her father (an English earl who thought England the
only land) made an American heiress his Countess.

More than once I've come near to carrying out my intention, but the
feeling I had, never seemed the right feeling, so I let the matter drop,
and waited for next time.

A few days ago, I found out that there would never be a next time. I
knew this when Rob van