naments that have been reverently bestowed upon her. So the lawn
slopes in a velvety green; the paths wind in and out; flower beds glow
and send forth perfume; and ponds and sky look at each other in mutual
admiration.

Even on that winter day the Bosch was beautiful. Its trees were bare,
but beneath them still lay the ponds, every ripple smoothed into glass.
The blue sky was bright overhead, and as it looked down through the
thicket of boughs, it saw another blue sky, not nearly so bright,
looking up from the dim thicket under the ice.

Never had the sunset appeared more beautiful to Peter than when he saw
it exchanging farewell glances with the windows and shining roofs of the
city before him. Never had The Hague itself seemed more inviting. He was
no longer Peter van Holp, going to visit a great city, nor a fine
young gentleman bent on sight-seeing; he was a knight, an adventurer,
travel-soiled and weary, a Hop-o'-my-Thumb grown large, a Fortunatas
approaching the enchanted castle where luxury and ease awaited him, for
his own sister's house was not half a mile away.

"At last, boys," he cried in high glee, "we may hope for a royal resting
place--good beds, warm rooms, and something fit to eat. I never realized
before what a luxury such things are. Our lodgings at the Red Lion have
made us appreciate our own homes."

The Merchant Prince and the Sister-Princess

Well might Peter feel that his sister's house was like an enchanted
castle. Large and elegant as it was, a spell of quiet hung over it. The
very lion crouching at its gate seemed to have been turned into
stone through magic. Within, it was guarded by genii, in the shape of
red-faced servants, who sprang silently forth at the summons of bell
or knocker. There was a cat also, who appeared as knowing as any
Puss-in-Boots, and a brass gnome in the hall whose business it was to
stand with outstretched arms ready to receive sticks and umbrellas. Safe
within the walls bloomed a Garden of Delight, where the flowers firmly
believed it was summer, and a sparkling fountain was laughing merrily
to itself because Jack Frost could not find it. There was a Sleeping
Beauty, too, just at the time of the boys' arrival, but when Peter, like
a true prince, flew lightly up the stairs and kissed her eyelids, the
enchantment was broken. The princess became his own good sister, and
the fairy castle just one of the finest, most comfortable houses of The
Hague.

As may