into the drawing-room.

She stood still a moment after this impulsive entrance, and the
governess turned toward Mrs. Foss a face that, benign and enlightened
though it was, called up the memory of faces seen in good-humored German
comic papers. The expression of her smile said to the company that she
was guiltless in the matter of this invasion. Could one use severity
toward a little girl who suffered from asthma and weak eyes?

Lily, after her pause, went half shyly, half boldly to Gerald. He did
not kiss her,--she was ten years old,--but placed an arm loosely around
her as she stood near his knee.

"Did you forget it, Lily?"

"No, Mother, I didn't forget, but I never thought to speak of it. You
didn't tell me to, did you, Gerald?"

"No, we had so much else to talk about. Well, Lily, have you decided
what color the uniform must be for our orphanage? The thing is
important. It makes a great difference in an orphan's disposition
whether she goes dressed in a dirty gray or a fine, bright apricot
yellow."

"Gerald,"--Lily lowered her voice to make their conversation more
private,--"will you be the cuckoo?" As he gazed, she went earnestly on:
"We can't find anybody to do the cuckoo. I am going to be the
nightingale. Fraeulein is going to be the drum. Leslie is going to be the
_Wachtel_. Mother is going to be the triangle. Brenda will play the
piano. Papa says that if he is to take part he must be the one who sings
on the comb and tissue-paper. But I am afraid to let him. You know he
hasn't a good ear. That leaves the cuckoo, the comb, and the rattle
still to find before we can have our _Kinder-sinfonie_. Which
should you like to be, Gerald?"

"What an opening for musical talent! But, my dear little lady, I'm not a
bit of good. I can't follow music by note any more than a cuckoo. I am
so sorry."

"But, Gerald, all you have to do is--"

"I have told you, Lili," said the governess in German, "that we would
take the gardener's boy and drill him for the cuckoo. Come now quickly,
dear child; we must go for our walk."

The casual, unimportant talk of ordinary occasions went on after the
interruption.

"And what do you hear from that charming friend of yours, the abbe,
Gerald?" And, "I hope you have good news from your son, Mrs. Foss." And,
"Do you know whether the Seymours have come back from the country?"

Gerald left the Fosses, warmed by his renewed sense of their friendship,
and believing that he would go very