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"Would your daughter say so?"

"No," I answered; for I was born at Magnolia "But I think

home is where we have lived, - is it not?"

"Melbourne?" Mr Dinwiddie suggested

"No," said I; "it is not Melbourne now, to be sure; but

neither could it be possibly any place in Europe, or Asia"

"Are you sure? Not in any circumstances?"

I cannot tell what, in his tone or look, drove his

home But I felt the colour rise in my face and I could not

answer

"It is where the heart is, after all," Mr Dinwiddie resumed

"The Syrian sky does notfor me"

"But we speak of home here, and properly"

"Properly, for those who have it"

"I think, Mr Dinwiddie, that we say 'home' sometimes, e

speak only of where the heart was"

"Better not," he said "Let us have a living home, not a dead

one And that we can, always"

"What do you know of places where the heart was?" said papa,

looking at ; and I think people mean

that sometimes"

"We will both trust she will never coe," said Mr Dinwiddie, with one of his bright looks

at papa and ata little more interest in

our affairs than I feared papa would like; but he took it