arose from, to a comparative stranger. He looked away from Gerald's startled blue eyes toward the flag-crowned gables of the Ossokosee House, that now were in full sight, as the wagon turned into one of the graveled avenues leading to the kitchen.
"My father died after we came home," he said, as if he had to face himself to speak of something that he could hardly bear to think of. "I was born in Germany, and lived there until we sailed."
"I—I beg your pardon," said Gerald, blushing in his turn.
"What for?"
"Because I think I asked you something that—that there was no reason for me to be told."
"O, don't mention it," returned Touchtone. He recovered his self-possession so curiously lost. "It is just as well that you did, I rather believe. Some day, perhaps, I can explain about it to you. No harm done. "Pompey! Pompey!" he called out in his pleasant voice to a tall servant walking across the back piazza of the dining-room. "Come here, please, and help take some of these
