't been
in bed for twenty-five years. I don't know how he sleeps--but, look!
there he is now. I recognize him from photographs in newspapers."

My eyes followed her nod, which appeared to be aimed at the river. I
looked for a boat, but spied a head floating among water-lilies.

It was not a loose head of some early Dutch martyr miraculously
preserved--as seemed possible in a place of such surprises--for it
smiled and bowed, and addressed Brederode as its dear Rudolph.

Its wet hair, glittering like silver in the water, was rather long, its
eyes were like brown jewels, it had faultless features, not at all of a
modern cast, but like those one sees in a seventeenth-century portrait;
and its smile, even when visible only as far down as the lower lip, was
charming.

The famous Mr. Dudok de Wit, bobbing nearer, explained that he had
unduly prolonged his daily swimming bath, owing to the sultriness of the
day. As it was, he had been in the water no more than an hour or two,
but he was delighted to see us, would come out at once, and expect us to
lunch with him at Breukelen, which is the name of his place.

He did come out, in a neat bathing-suit, desiring us to follow him into
the house, where we might amuse ourselves until he was dressed,
wandering among his treasures in the drawing-room.

The luncheon in the quaint old house, the stroll through the grounds and
the hour in the museum, were among Alb's successes; but I was past
grudging it to him; besides, he flaunted no triumphant airs. Why should
he, when Phyllis had eyes only for her Viking, and Nell, in a newly
developed appreciation of her twin cousins, had no time to remember his
existence?

I did think that she might have stretched out a hand to save me from
Menela, but if she had any conception of what was going on, she thought
me able to take care of myself, and I should have been left to the
tender mercies of the creature I had freed had it not been for the
L.C.P.

During the afternoon, when we had left Breukelen and were gliding on,
along the lily-burdened river toward Amsterdam, she unobtrusively made
it her business to protect me from the sallies of the enemy, even
engaging that enemy herself, as if she were my squire at arms. Now, if
never before, she was worth her weight in gold, and as I saw her
politely entangle the unwilling Menela in conversation, I vowed to buy
her a present worth having when we arrived in Amsterdam.

XXXI

When a man