dreadfully dark, but the people in front seem to be stepping right out
of the shadows, and to be alive. It seems to me they are just going to
come right up toward me, as I sit there."

"And that, after all, I suppose is the best thing one can say of a
picture," said Jasper. "And it is always the finest time to look at
that picture in the afternoon, you know, so we will go there, Polly,
after luncheon."

"And then Phronsie will want to see that picture of a woman with a cat,
I suppose," said Polly. "Dear me, who was it that painted that, Jasper?
I never can remember the artists' names."

"Metsu was it--Jan--no, Gabriel--Metsu," answered Jasper, wrinkling his
brows. "Neither can I remember all those fellows' names. Yes, indeed,
you'll find Phronsie won't let us go there without paying respects to
her special picture."

"And then I suppose Grandpapa will take us for a last drive in Vondel
Park. Oh, what nice times we have had, Jasper King!" exclaimed Polly,
leaning back against the sofa, and clasping her hands restfully. "I
just love Amsterdam! And I hate to leave it!"

"So you said about The Hague, Polly," observed Jasper, turning to her
with a little laugh.

"Well, wasn't it perfectly beautiful?" asked Polly, flying up straight
again. "Just think of that dear 'House in the Wood,' Jasper."

"I know it; you wanted to go there day after day," laughed Jasper.