apped him on the back, and congratulated him as
"Learned Doctor," I began to wonder what I should do, as it was clear he
would have no time to help me carry out my plans. His Promotie dinner,
the grandest affair of student life, and the rounding off of it, would
be in three parts, with various ceremonies in between, and would last
from now until two or three in the morning. However, I told him what I
had wanted; to give a surprise dinner at his diggings for the party from
"Lorelei," with him to arrange details while I played guide, and to take
the part of host for us at eight o'clock. Could he suggest any one who
would look after the thing in his place? Van Rhonda or Douw, for
instance? But van Rhonda and Douw, it seemed, were the Paranymphs, or
supporters of the newly-made Doctor, and their time would be fully taken
up in seeing him through. All my old friends who were left would be at
the Promotie dinner, but Jan was sure that my business might be safely
entrusted to the landlady. She would get flowers, go to the hotel to
order whatever I wished, and even superintend the waiters.

With this I had to be satisfied, for in the midst of the discussion
appeared the two Paranymphs, wanting to know what kept Jan, and the hero
of the day was ruthlessly carried off between them. I had to do the best
I could; my old landlady had not forgotten me, and I was assured that I
might depend upon her. When I had scribbled a menu, consisting of some
rather odd dishes, sketched an idea for the table decoration, and given
a few other hasty instructions, I dashed off to keep my appointment at
the Stadhuis. On the way I consoled myself with the reflection that it's
an ill wind which blows nobody good. I had been bereaved of Jan as a
prop, but I might make use of him and his friends by-and-by as one of
the sights of Leiden, and I would take advantage of my knowledge of the
usual program on such festive nights as this for the benefit of my
friends.

I arrived at the Stadhuis as the others took their first look at the oak
in the Archive Room. There was just one other room in this most
excellent and historic building that I wanted Miss Van Buren to see. It
was a Tapestry Room, among other Tapestry Rooms, of no importance; but I
remembered her fantastic desire to "live in the stained-glass country,"
and I recalled a certain tapestry garden in which I felt sure she would
long to wander. There was a meal of some wonderful sort going on in it,
and