flurried and pink when Freule Menela came airily on board with me, and
Alb appeared interested in giving instructions to Hendrik, who disputed
respectfully with Tibe possession of countless yards of his beloved
cotton waste.

At last, however, I began to wonder why we did not get away. The day's
trip was to be a return to Amsterdam, not with the object of reviving
impressions of that city, but for the pleasure of the run through the
River Vecht, which Alb praised as the prettiest stream in the
Netherlands, and named a miniature Thames.

It was ten o'clock, and, as usual, we were timed to start at ten; but I
did not consider it my place to ask the reason why, or any other
question about starting. Mine, but to do or die--and keep out of reach
of Freule Menela.

It was through Nell that the mystery was solved, as we stood chatting on
deck.

"Where's Phil?" she inquired of the twins.

"Gone back to the hotel to find something she forgot to pack," said
Lilli.

"And brother Robert has taken her," said Lisbeth, with a fleeting glance
at the self-deposed fiancee.

This revelation of Phyllis's diplomacy came upon me with a shock. She is
such a simple-minded Angel; but I suppose all girls are alike in some
ways. And she is so kind-hearted, she must have been anxious to put
Robert out of his misery as soon as she could. Well, she couldn't have
done it much sooner.

"There they come," cried Lilli. And perhaps I should have been tempted
to search their faces for news if Freule Menela had not turned her back
upon the advancing figures, and begun to talk, with an air of
proprietorship, to me.

"It's found!" cried Phyllis, to all whom it might concern. "I was
so--fond of it, I should have hated losing it. And it was _so_ kind of
Mr. van Buren to help me."

I wondered whether there were others on board beside myself who detected
in this announcement a double meaning? Something in her voice told me
that she really was thankful not to have lost the thing of which she was
so fond, the thing for which she had gone back to the hotel, the thing
Mr. van Buren had kindly helped her to find. But there was no chance for
a self-sacrificing brother to question his sister. Freule Menela saw to
that.

It was my luck at its worst, to be torn in my mind on this exquisite day
on the Vecht. Once in a while it dimly comes back to me that, in a past
existence unbrightened by Nell Van Buren and Phyllis Rivers, I came to
Holland with the obj