"We have no home at present save the broad earth, Fräulein," I
responded.

"You cannot occupy it all," she retorted, looking roguishly up to me.

"No," I responded, "we are occupying this part of the earth at present,
but we hope soon to occupy Burgundy."

"Please leave a small patch of that fair land for Twonette and me," she
answered, in mock entreaty. After a short pause she continued:--

"It seems easier for you to ask questions than to answer them."

"Fräulein," I responded, "your question is not easily answered. I was
born in Italy. I lived for many years in the East, and--"

"I did not ask for your biography," she said, interrupting me. I did not
notice the interruption, but continued:--

"I spent six years in your fair land of Burgundy. My mother was a
Walloon. I dearly love her people, and hope that my home may soon be
among them."

The girl's face had been slightly clouded, but when I spoke lovingly of
the Walloons, the dimples again played around her mouth and a smile
brightened her eyes.

"I also am a Walloon," she answered; "and your friend? He surely is not
Italian: he is too fair."