"Everywhere. All over the wide world, I should say."

"Oh, no, mother; he was in Germany most of the time," said Marion.

"He saw the Alps, Marion."

"The Bavarian Alps."

"And he saw France."

"From the banks of the Moselle."

"And Russia, and Holland, and Bohemia," pursued Mrs. Manning. "You will
never make me believe that one can see all _those_ countries from
Germany, Marion. Germany was never of so much importance in _my_ day.
And to think, too, that he has lived in Bohemia! I must ask him about
it. I have never understood where it was, exactly; but I _have_ heard
persons called Bohemians who had not a foreign look at all."

"He did not _live_ in Bohemia, mother."

"Oh, yes, he did, child; I am sure I heard him say so."

"You are thinking of Bavaria."

"Marion! Marion! how can you tell what I am thinking of?" said Mrs.
Manning oracularly. "There is no rule of arithmetic that can tell you
that. But here is Lawrence himself at the door.--You _have_ lived in
Bohemia, have you not?" she asked, as the young man entered: he came in
and out now like one of the family. "Marion says you have not."

"Pray, don't give it up, but stick to that opinion, Miss Marion," said
the young man, with a merry glint in his eyes. Ah! yes, young Vickery
had wandered, there was no doubt of it; he used contractions, and such
words as "stick." Mrs. Manning and Marion had never said "don't" or
"can't" in their lives.

"I do not know what you mean," replied Marion, a slight color rising in
her cheeks. "It is not a matter of opinion one way or the other, but of
fact. You either have lived in Bohemia, or you have not."

"Well, then, I have," said Vickery, laughing.

"There! Marion," exclaimed Mrs. Manning triumphantly.

Vickery, overcome by mirth, turned to Bro, as if for relief; Bro was at
least a man.

But Bro returned his gaze mildly, comprehending nothing.

"Going over to the mill?" said Vickery. "I'll go with you, and have a
look about."

They went off together, and Vickery examined the mill from top to
bottom; he measured the logs, inspected the engine, chaffed the negroes,
climbed out on the roof, put his head into Bro's cell-like bedroom, and
came at last to the locked door.

"What have we here?" he asked.

"Only a little workshop of mine, which I keep locked," replied Bro.

"So I see. But what's inside?"

"Nothing of much consequence--as yet," replied the other, unable to
resist adding the adverb.

"You must