I do not see them, I hear very much; and it would seem that when they
_are_ here, the Palace is a sort of open house, and festivity is the
order of the day. To all appearance the etiquette is not quite so rigid
as at _our_ Court, the Sovereign being more accessible to the people.
Persons wishing to pay their respects call at the Palace about five days
previous, write their name in a book kept for the purpose, then they are
admitted on the specified day, provided no good reason exists for their
exclusion. The people are eminently loyal, and speak of the little Queen
in tones of warmest affection, an affection which is also extended to
the Queen-Regent, who has evidently made herself a firm position in
the country.

The Palace at Den Haag is before me now, but first perhaps you would
like to know something of the Palace at the Loo, a place I had the
privilege of seeing; though, as their Majesties were actually in
residence there, photographic work was not possible.

The Loo is near Apeldoorn, and some considerable distance from
Amsterdam. I have only the one day to spare, so am off early in the
morning. Steaming out of the Central Station, I soon find myself
speeding along in such comfortable, well-warmed carriages as would
rejoice the unfortunate winter traveller in this country, who is all but
dependent on his ability to pay for the not very useful foot-warmer.

The country is pretty but flat, dykes instead of hedges, windmills
without number; hundreds of cows in the fields, very fine cattle, but
they _do_ look comical, for the majority of them are wearing coats!

At frequent intervals along the line are road crossings, each with their
little gatehouse, and each kept by a woman, who turns out as we pass,