man. I can't speak Dutch; can you?"

"No," said I. "Not a syllable. But he spoke English quite respectably an
hour ago."

"That was before he was found out. He can now do nothing but shake his
head and say '_niets verstaen_,' or something that sounds like that. I
thought of killing him, but concluded it would be better to wait until
I'd asked you how you'd like it done."

"It ought to be something lingering," said I. "We'll talk it over. But
first, perhaps, we'd better decide what's to be done with _ourselves_.
You see, we've come to Holland to have a cruise on our new boat;
otherwise, if you liked, _we_, as the real owners, might let her to you,
and all would be well. Still, it does seem a shame that you should be
disappointed when you took 'Lorelei' in good faith, and made her so
pretty. Of course, you must let us know what you've paid----"

"A few gulden," said the young man, evasively.

"Never mind. You must tell how many. Unfortunately that won't mend your
disappointment. But--what can we do?"

"I suppose there isn't the slightest hope that you could--er--take me as
a passenger?"

"Oh, we couldn't possibly do that," hastily exclaimed Phil. "We're
alone. Though my stepsister, Miss Van Buren, has cousins in Rotterdam,
we've come from England without a chaperon, and--for the present----"

The young man's eyes were more brilliant than ever, though the rest of
his face looked sad.

"Oh, don't say any more," he implored. "I see how it is. I oughtn't to
have made such a suggestion. My only excuse is, I was thinking--of my
poor aunt. She'll be horribly disappointed. I care most for her, and
what she'll feel at giving up the cruise."

"Oh, was your aunt coming?" I asked.

"Yes, my Scotch aunt. Such a charming woman. I'm an American, you know.
Clever of me to have a Scotch aunt, but I have. I've been visiting her
lately, near Edinburgh. You would like Lady MacNairne, I think."

Phil's face changed. She is the last girl in the world to be a snob; but
hearing that this young man had a Scotch aunt, with a title, was almost
as good as a proper introduction. And there really is something
singularly winning about my countryman. I suppose it is that he has "a
way with him," as the Irish say. Besides, it seemed nice of so young a
man to care so much about a mere aunt. Many young men despise aunts as
companions; but evidently he isn't one of those, as he beautified
"Lorelei" simply to give his aunt pleasure.

"It real