en turned into an English church. Queer, in the
little Catholic village hidden away from the great city; but so it is.
And isn't it a serene spot?"

"Almost nicer than Aalsmeer," murmured the Chaperon. "I wonder if----"

But Starr was at the door of the exit before she could finish wondering.

The palace, more suitable for a magnificent town hall than a regal
dwelling, was the next violent contrast in my bag of colors; but, royal
though it was, there was nothing in it they cared for much except the
throne-room, which they had to admit was not to be surpassed. There were
a few mantel-pieces too, which the Chaperon thought she would accept
from the Queen as presents; but as for the carpets, they were no less
than tragic, and it would be better to go about opening bridges, or
laying dull cornerstones, then stay at home and look at them.

My way of showing Amsterdam was to work slowly up to a grand crescendo
effect; and the crescendo was the Ryks Museum. We had two days of
Amsterdam (the second was mostly spent at the diamond cutters') before I
suggested the museum.

Aunt Fay said, when I did, that she hated such places. They gave her a
headache, a heartache, and a bad cold. But she did not hate the Ryks
Museum, and delighted the Mariner by picking out the best Rembrandts.
After our first day at the museum (which we gave to the pictures) she
could have had anything she asked from her dearest Ronny.

Then there were the Dutch rooms, and the rooms where the wax people
live. I did not speak of the wax people until the ladies were tired,
therefore they were cold to the idea of wax figures, even when they
heard that the Queen had been five or six times to see them.

"Perhaps she never saw Madame Tussaud's," remarked Miss Rivers, in a
superior, British way; but the magic word was spoken when I said that
the wax people wore every variety of costume to be found in Holland, and
I was ordered to conduct the party to them at once.

Instantly they felt the alarming fascination of the wax faces, whose
hard eyes say, "At night we live, and walk about as you are doing now":
and at the closing hour Aunt Fay and the two girls had to be forcibly
torn away.

"Is it possible that some day we shall see live people dressed as those
wax people are?" she exclaimed.

"You will see them by the hundred," I answered.

She paused a moment. "Miss Van Buren wants to know if one can buy any
special costume to which one takes a fancy."

"Yes,