ing we could start to-morrow.
They're going to bring most of their things on board after tea this
afternoon, about five. Oh, by the way, just as I was leaving, Miss Van
Buren did call after me, 'Is your friend nice?'"

I laughed. "What did you answer?"

"I thought one more fib among so many couldn't matter, so I said you
were. Heaven forgive me. By-the-by, are you really Dutch, or is that
another--figure of speech?"

"I always think and speak of myself as wholly Dutch," I replied. "But my
mother is English. By-the-by, I must telegraph her; and I must write my
man to bring me some clothes the first thing to-morrow morning. Then
you'd better send for the chauffeur you've engaged; and we'll go
together to interview him on the boat before the ladies come. I
think--er--it won't be best for me to meet them till to-morrow. Are you
sure your chauffeur's a good man?"

"Not at all," said Starr, airily. "I merely know that he's a very young
youth, who makes you feel like a grandfather at twenty-seven; who
wriggles and turns pink if you speak to him suddenly, and when he wants
his handkerchief to mop his perpetually moist forehead, pulls yards of
cotton waste out of his pocket, by mistake. I've only his word for
it--which I couldn't understand, as it was in Dutch--that he has the
slightest knowledge of any motor. But he showed me written references,
and seemed so proud of what they set forth, I thought they must be all
right, though I couldn't read them."

"You're a queer fellow!" I exclaimed.

"Well, you see, I'm an artist--neither motorist nor botorist. By the
way, what are you, beyond being van Buren's friend?"

"A Jack of several trades," said I. "I know a bit about horses, botors,
motors; I fancy I'm a judge of dogs (I congratulate you on Tibe), also
of chauffeurs, so come along and we'll put yours through his paces."

It now appeared that Starr had the youth on board. So I sent my two
telegrams, and we started to walk to the boat. On the way Starr told me
more than I had heard from Robert about his first dealings with
"Lorelei," and we discussed details of the trip. The ladies have no
choice, it appears, except that they will feel ill-used if allowed to
miss anything. As for Starr, he confessed blissful ignorance of Holland.

"I want to go where cows wear coats, and women wear gold helmets, and
dogs have revolving kennels," he said. "And I want to paint everything I
see."

"Cows wear coats at Gouda. I expect you r