think we have ever had occasion to settle the question. You know
there are people like that. About their country, their religion, their
profession, they can't tell."

Gertrude stood there gazing; she had not asked him to sit down. She
had never heard of people like that; she wanted to hear. "Where do you
live?" she asked.

"They can't tell that, either!" said Felix. "I am afraid you will
think they are little better than vagabonds. I have lived
anywhere--everywhere. I really think I have lived in every city in
Europe." Gertrude gave a little long soft exhalation. It made the young
man smile at her again; and his smile made her blush a little. To take
refuge from blushing she asked him if, after his long walk, he was not
hungry or thirsty. Her hand was in her pocket; she was fumbling with the
little key that her sister had given her. "Ah, my dear young lady," he
said, clasping his hands a little, "if you could give me, in charity, a
glass of wine!"

Gertrude gave a smile and a little nod, and went quickly out of the
room. Presently she came back with a very large decanter in one hand
and a plate in the other, on which was placed a big, round cake with
a frosted top. Gertrude, in taking the cake from the closet, had had a
moment of acute consciousness that it composed the refection of which
her sister had thought that Mr. Brand would like to partake. Her kinsman
from across the seas was looking at the pale, high-hung engravings. When
she came in he turned and smiled at her, as if they had been old friends
meeting after a separation. "You wait upon me yourself?" he asked. "I am
served like the gods!" She had waited upon a great many people, but
none of them had ever told her that. The observation added a certain