in the grand old Gothic choir of the cathedral.

During the week she wore always the same costume as does every other
servant in the country: a skirt of black stuff, short enough to show a
pair of very neat-set and well-turned ankles, clad in cloth shoes and
knitted stockings that showed no wrinkles; over the skirt a bodice and
a kirtle of lilac, made with a neatly gathered frilling about her round
brown throat; above the frilling five or six rows of unpolished garnet
beads fastened by a massive clasp of gold filigree, and on her head a
spotless white cap tied with a neat bow under her chin--as neat, let me
tell you, as an Englishman's tie at a party.

But it was on Sunday that Koosje shone forth in all the glory of a black
gown and her jewellery--with great ear-rings to match the clasp of her
necklace, and a heavy chain and cross to match that again, and one or
two rings; while on her head she wore an immense cap, much too big to
put a bonnet over, though for walking she was most particular to have
gloves.

Then, indeed, she was a young person to be treated with respect, and
with respect she was undoubtedly treated. As she passed along the
quaint, resounding streets, many a head was turned to look after her;
but Koosje went on her way like the staid maiden she was, duly impressed
with the fact that she was principal servant of Professor van Dijck, the
most celebrated authority on the study of osteology in Europe. So Koosje
never heeded the looks, turned her head neither to the right nor to
the left, but went sedately on her business or pleasure, whichever it
happened to be.

It was not likely that such a treasure could remain long unnoticed and