"Wiesbaden?" said Mrs. Copley.
"Wiesbaden?" cried Dolly. "Oh no, Mr. St. Leger! Not there, nor in any such place!"
"The season is over, Miss Dolly."
"I don't want to go to Wiesbaden. Mother, you wanted to see something—what was it?"
"Waterloo"—— Mrs. Copley began.
"That would take us out of the way of everything—down into Belgium—and you would not see anything when you got there, Mrs. Copley. Only some fields; there is nothing left of the battle."
"But if I saw the fields, I could imagine the battle," said Mrs. Copley.
"Could you? Let us imagine something pleasanter. You don't want to go up the Rhine?"
"I don't want to go anywhere in a boat, Mr. St. Leger. I am going to keep on land, now I've got there. But I was thinking.—Somebody told me of some wonderful painted glass, somewhere near Rotterdam, and told me not to miss seeing it. Where is it?"
"I know," said Dolly; "the place was Gonda; in the cathedral. But where is Gonda?"