ull; pretty hats
nodded like flowers in a huge parterre swept by a breeze; smart-looking
men with women in trailing white walked about the lawns; and Robert and
Menela pointed out the celebrities--ambassadors and ambassadors' wives,
politicians, popular actresses, celebrated journalists, men of title or
wealth who owned horses and gave their lives to sport.

All the men of the _haut mond_ were in frock-coats and tall hats, and
most of them looked English. There were few of the type which I
preconceived as Dutch, yet I saw faces in the crowd which Rembrandt or
Rubens might have used as models; thin, dark faces; hard, shrewd faces,
with long noses and pointed chins; good-natured round faces, with
wide-open gray eyes; important, conceited faces like the burgomasters in
ancient portraits.

"Not a type has changed," I said to myself. "These people of to-day are
the same people who suffered torture smiling, who were silent on the
rack, who drove the Spaniards out of their land, and swept the English
from the seas."

This was my mood when a stir among the throng heralded the coming of the
Queen, and I applauded as patriotically as a Dutchwoman the young
daughter of the brave house of Orange and Nassau.

She had a fine procession, and made an effective entrance through the
wide gates that swung apart to let in her outriders in their green
livery, and the royal coaches, with powdered coachmen and footmen in
blazing red and gold. A charming young woman she looked, too, in her
blowing white cloud of chiffon and lace, and ostrich-plumes. While she
circled round the drive with her suite, I heard the Dutch National Hymn
for the first time, and also a soft and plaintive air which is the
Queen's own--a kind of "entrance music" which follows her about through
life, like the music for a leading actress on the stage.

When the Queen in her white dress, the stout, bland Prince Consort in
his blue uniform, and the ladies of the Court were settled under the
crimson curtains of the pavilion, officers who were competing in the
Horse Show--Hollanders in green and cerise, and plain blue; Belgians in
blue and red; two or three Danes in delicious azure--were brought up
with much ceremony to be introduced.

"There goes Rudolph Brederode," said Robert, a light of friendly
admiration kindling in his eyes for a tall, slim figure in black coat
and riding-breeches. "See, her Majesty is wishing him good luck. He--"
But my cousin glanced at me, and