Even Chilian wondered that the little girl took the death of her father so calmly.  Elizabeth called it unnatural and questioned whether the child had any deep feeling.

“I don’t believe she’s shed a tear.  And, Eunice, the child ought to go in black.”

The child was trying to get used to changed ideas.  If her mother was glad and happy, now that they were again united, why should she be sorry?  It seemed selfish to her as if she grudged them the joy.  And Cousin Chilian was trying every way to entertain her, to help her on to perfect recovery.  Sometimes, when she sat alone in the study, the soft eyes would overflow and the tears course silently down her cheeks.  She never cried in the tempestuous way of some children.  But she knew now she had counted a good deal on their having a home together.  Rachel would keep the house and she and her father would take walks and have a garden, where she could cut flowers and have them in the house.  Cousin Elizabeth said they made a litter.  And now she should never go down to the wharf and see him standing on the deck, and wave her hand to him, as she used when he went on short journeys in India.  They would have a low carry-all and ride around, as she would tell him all she had learned about Salem.  And they would have people in to drink tea and have pretty dishes on the table.  Perhaps he would give her a party.  But she didn’t know any children, except the Uphams.  It might be better to go to school so that she could get acquainted.

Chilian was a good deal startled about the black garments.

“She is so little and thin,” he objected.  “I never did like children in black; it seems as if you weighted them down with woe.  And he has been dead so many months now.”

“But one ought to pay decent respect to a custom sanctioned by all civilized people.  There will be a talk about it.  Folks may think it our fault.”

“I do not believe half a dozen people would notice it.  It’s only a custom after all.  I never did like it.  We will see how she feels about it.”

“Chilian, you make that child of as much importance as if she was a woman grown.  You will have your hands full by and by.  She will think every one must bow down to her and consult her whims and fancies.”

“We will see;” nodding indifferently.

He didn’t want her around in garments of woe.  Very gently he mentioned the subject.

She glanced up out of sweet, entreating eyes.  She had been standing by him, looking over a very choice book of engravings.

“Yes,” she returned.  “Rachel spoke of it.  And you know there are some people who wear white, and some who put on yellow.  Black isn’t a nice color.  Do you like it?”

He shook his head.

“It is the inside of me that aches now and then, when I think I shall never see him come sailing back, that I must be a long while without him until I go to their land.  But he must be very happy with mother, and that is what I think of when I feel how hard it is;” and the tears stole softly down her cheeks.  “I have Rachel and you, and he said you would always love me and care for me.  But I try not to feel sorry, and if I had on a black frock I couldn’t help but think of it all the time.  Then I should be sorry inside and outside both, and is it right to make yourself unhappy when you believe people have gone to heaven?”

She said it so simply that he was deeply moved.  She had been alone with her sorrow all this time, when they had thought her indifferent.

“You need not wear black I wish you would not.  I want you to get real well and happy.  And you are a brave little girl to think of them and refrain from grief.”

She wiped away the tears lest they should fall on the book.

“At first it was quite dreadful to me.  I couldn’t say anything.  Then I remembered how we used to talk of mother, as if she was only in the next room.  And then I sit here and think, when the sky is such a splendid blue and there come little white rifts in it, as if somewhere it opened, I can almost see them.  Can’t people come back for a few moments?”

“Only in dreams, I imagine.”

“I can almost see them.  And they are so glad to be together.  And I know father says, ‘Cynthia will come by and by.’  But twenty years, or thirty years, is a long while to wait.”

Perhaps she wouldn’t need to wait so long, he thought, as he noted the transparent face.

“And now I should be sorry to go away from you,” she said, with grave sweetness.

“I think your father meant you should stay a long while with me when he gave you to me;” and he pressed her closer to his heart.

So she did not wear mourning, to Elizabeth’s very real displeasure.  There was no further talk about the school, but she did try to sew a little and began the sampler.  Cousin Eunice was her guide here.  She brought out hers that was over fifty years old, and all the colors were fading.

“I wonder if I shall live fifty years,” she mused.

Driving about was her great entertainment.  You could go to Marblehead, which was a peninsula.  There were the fishery huts and the men curing and drying fish.  Sometimes they took passage in one of the numerous sailing vessels and went in and out the irregular shore, and saw Boston from the bay.  It seemed in those times as if it might get drowned out, there was so much water around it.

“And if it should float off out to sea, some day,” she half inquired, laughingly.

He was glad to hear her soft, sweet laugh again.

She thought she liked Salem best, and even now people began to talk of old Salem, there had been so many improvements since the time Governor Bradford had written: 

          “Almost ten years we lived here alone,
          In other places there were few or none;
          For Salem was the next of any fame
          That began to augment New England’s name.”

And then it went by the old Indian name and was called Naumkeag.  And she found that it was older than Boston, and had been the seat of government twice, and that Governor Burnett, finding Boston unmanageable, had convened the General Court here for two years.  That was in 1728, and now it was 1800.

“But no one lives a hundred years,” she said.

“Oh, yes; there are a number of persons who have lived that long.  Now and then a person lives in three centuries, is born the last year of one, goes through a whole century, and dies in the next one.”

“What a long, long while!” she sighed.

And there was the old Court House where the Stamp Act was denounced.  She wanted to know all about that, and he was fond of explaining things, the sort of teacher habit, but there was nothing dogmatic about it.  Here were houses where the Leveretts had lived, third or fourth cousins who had married with the Graingers, and the Lyndes, and the Saltonstalls, and the Hales.  It is so in the course of a hundred or two years, when emigration does not come in to disturb the purity of the blood.

The little girl really began to improve.  Her hair was taking on a brighter tint and in the warm weather the uneven ends curled about her forehead in dainty rings, her complexion was many shades fairer, her cheeks rounded out, and her chin began to show the cleft in it.  She was more like her olden self, quite merry at times.

The summer went on as usual.  Gardening, berry-picking, and she helped with the gooseberries, the briery vines she did not like.  There were jars of jam and preserves, rose leaves to gather, and all the mornings were crowded full.  Often in the afternoon she went up in the garret to see Miss Eunice spin sometimes on the big wheel, at others with flax on the small wheel.  She liked the whirring sound, and it was a mystery to her how the thread came out so fine and even.

Elizabeth had taken the white quilt out of its wrappings, it did not get finished the summer before.  A neighbor had let her copy a new pattern for the border that had come from New York.  And she heard there had been imported white woven quilts with wonderful figures in them.

“Then one wouldn’t have to quilt any more.  Shan’t you be glad, Cousin Elizabeth?”

“Glad!” She gave a kind of snort and pushed the needle into her finger, and had to stop lest a drop of blood might mar the whiteness.  “Well, I’m not as lazy as that comes to, and I don’t see how they can put much beauty in them.  You can change blue and white and show a pattern, but where it is all white!  Why, you couldn’t tell it from a tablecloth.”

It was warm up in the garret, and what with drying herbs, and the sun pouring on the shingles, there was a rather close, peculiar air.  Cynthia stood by the open window, where the sweet summer wind went by, laden with the fragrance of newly cut grasses and the silk of the corn that was just tasselling out.  The hills rose up, tree-crowned; white clouds floated by overhead, and out beyond was the great ocean that led to other countries to India she thought of so often.

Oh, how the birds sang!  She was so sorry Cousin Eunice had to sit and spin, when there was such a beautiful world all around, and Cousin Elizabeth pricked her fingers quilting.  She heard her sigh, but she did not dare look around.  She had that nice sense of delicacy, rather unusual in a child.  But then she wasn’t an everyday child.

“Cynthia,” called Rachel from the foot of the stairs, “don’t you want to go out for a walk?  They’ve been unloading the Mingo, and they have a store of new things at the Merrits’.”

That was the great East India emporium.

“Oh, yes!” She skipped across the floor and ran downstairs lightly.

“That child’s like a whirlwind,” exclaimed Elizabeth crossly.

“But we ought to be glad she’s so much better.  I was really afraid in the spring we wouldn’t have her long.”

“Oh, the Leverett stock is tough.”

“But her mother died young.”

“Of that horrid India fever.  No, I didn’t truly think she would die.  If she had, I wonder where all the money would go?  Chilian is awful close-mouthed about it.  But it would have to go somewhere.  ’Tisn’t at all likely he’d leave word for it to be thrown back in the sea.”

“No; oh, no.”

“There’s some talk about missionaries going out to try to convert the heathen.  But Giles thinks it would cost more than it would amount to.  Giles has got way off; seems to me religion’s dying out since they’ve begun to preach easy ways of getting to heaven and letting the bars down here and there.  There’s no struggle and sense of conviction nowadays; you just take it up as a business.  And that child talks about heaven as if she’d had a glimpse of it and saw her father and mother there.  Letty Orne was a church member in her younger days, but I don’t believe the captain ever was.  And they who don’t repent will surely perish.”

Eunice sighed.  She could never get used to the thought that thousands of souls were brought into the world to perish eternally.

Cynthia tied on her Leghorn hat.  It did have some black ribbon on it, and the strings were passed under her chin and tied at one side.  That and her silken gown gave her a quaint appearance, rather striking as well.

They walked down the street and turned corners.  There was quite a procession of ladies bound for the same place.  If they had been all buyers, Mr. Merrit would have made quite a fortune.  But he was glad to have them come.  They would describe the stock to their neighbors, and perhaps decide on what they wanted for themselves.

“Ah, Miss Winn!” exclaimed a pleasant-faced woman.  “And that is Captain Leverett’s little girl?  Why, she looks as if she was quite well again.  We heard of her being so poorly.  I suppose the shock of her father’s death was dreadful!  Poor little thing!  And she’s to be quite an heiress, I heard.  What are they going to do with her?  Won’t she be sent to Boston to school?”

“Oh, I think not.  Mr. Leverett has been teaching her a little.”

They had fairly to elbow their way in.  Long counters were piled with goods.  Silks, laces, sheerest of muslins embroidered beautifully, lace wraps, India shawls, jewelry, caps, collars, handkerchiefs, stockings, slippers that were dainty enough for a Cinderella.

And all down one side were ranged tables, and jars, and vases, and articles one could hardly find a name for.  Such exquisite carving, such odd figures painted and embroidered on silk, birds the like of which were never seen on land or sea, dragons that flew, and crawled, and climbed trees, and disported themselves on waves.

“Oh, it looks like home,” cried Cynthia, for the moment forgetting herself.  And she kept sauntering round among the beautiful things, her heart growing strangely light, and her pulses throbbing with a sort of joy.

She was almost hidden by a great pile of tapestry.  The Indians had found some secrets of beauty as well as France, if they did make it with infinite pains.  And this was made with the little hand-looms and joined together so neatly and the colors blended so harmoniously that it was like a dream.  Only the little girl did not like the dragons and strange animals.  She had never seen any real ones like them.  They were in the stories Nalla used to tell.

Then some one else spoke to Miss Winn.  “Is your little charge here?” she asked.  “I’m quite anxious to see her.  I’ve called twice on the Leveretts, and really asked for her once when they said she was quite ill.  But I saw her out in the carriage with isn’t it her uncle?  No?  And she’s to be very well to do, I’ve heard.  The idea of the Leverett women undertaking to bring up a child!  They’re good as gold and some of the best housekeepers in Salem, but I dare say they’ll teach her to knit stockings, and make bedquilts, and braid rag mats, and do fifty-year-old things make a regular little Puritan of her.  I knew her mother quite well before she was married.  Doesn’t seem as if we were near of an age and went to school together.  But some of the Ornes married in our line.  And I was married when I was seventeen, and now I’m a grandmother.  How the years do fly on!  And she had to die out in that heathen land; he too.  Wasn’t it odd about sending her here beforehand?  I do want to see her.”

“She is somewhere about, interested in all these foreign things.”  Miss Winn was not quite sure of the chattering woman.  She had learned that the Leverett ladies were exclusive, whether from inclination or lack of time.  They asked their minister and a few old family friends in to tea on rare occasions, and then it was cooking and baking and cleaning up the choice old silver and dusting and polishing, and the next day clearing up.  Everything out of the routine made so much extra work.  Among the few English-speaking people in India there had been a sort of free and easy sociability.

Cynthia meanwhile had slipped around the end of the counter and came up to them.  She wanted to see the woman who had been to school with her mother.  Then her mother was a little girl, perhaps no older than she.  Did she like it?  Cynthia wondered.

“This is Captain Leverett’s little daughter,” Rachel announced rather stiffly.

“My but you don’t favor your mother at all.  I’m Mrs. Turner and I knew her off and on.  We lived about thirty miles above here.  Then her folks died and she went to Boston, but she used to be at the Leveretts’ a good deal.  I married and came here.  I’m living up North River way and have a house full of children like steps and one grandchild, and I’m just on the eve of thirty-seven.  I’ve one little girl about your age, but she’s ever so much bigger.  I’d like you to be friends with her.  The next older is a girl, too.  Why, you’d have real nice times if the old aunties were willing.  Do they keep her strict?  And she’s going to be a considerable heiress, I heard.  I wonder where her eyes came from?  They’re not Leverett eyes, and her mother’s were a clear blue, real china blue, but then there’s different blues in china,” and she laughed.  “Sad about the captain, wasn’t it?  He should have lived to enjoy his fortune, and now his little girl will have it all.  I must come and scrape acquaintance for the sake of my girls.  You’d like them, I know, they’re full of fun.  We’re not strait-laced people that’s going out of date.”

Then she passed on.  They wandered about a little more among the vases and jars and the paintings on silk.  The air was heavy with sandalwood, and attar of rose, and incense.  The fragrance seemed never to die out of those old things that became family heirlooms.

“Come,” Rachel said, taking her by the hand.  It was quite late in the afternoon now, and the shadows of everything were growing longer.  She could not understand why it was at first, but now she knew.  And the sun would be round there in Asia presently.  In her secret heart she still believed the sun went round and the earth stood still, for in the movement people must slip off.  But then what held it in the air?  Cousin Chilian had a globe, but you see there was a strong wire through the middle, fastened to the frame at both ends.  Perhaps the earth was fastened somewhere!  She liked to make it revolve on its axis, and in imagination she crossed the oceans, and seas, and capes, and found her father again.

The stage had just come in.  They paused on the corner, waiting for Cousin Chilian.  Some one was with him yes, it was Cousin Giles Leverett.

“Well, little woman,” he began, “so I find you out here meandering round, and so much improved that I hardly know you.  We were afraid in the winter you were going to slip away and leave all this fortune behind you, never having had a bit of good of it.  But you look now as if you had taken a new lease.  And you are positively growing!”

Chilian smiled at the remark.  He had begun to think so himself.  And she looked so pretty just now with the pink in her cheeks and the soft tendrils of hair about her forehead, the eager, luminous eyes.  He reached out and took her hand.

“Have you been inspecting old Salem, and did you find any queer things?” Cousin Giles asked.

“Oh, there was a great shipload of goods from India and it seemed almost as if you were walking through the booths at home, only there were no natives and no beggars or holy men ”

“Tut! tut! child; they are not holy men who are too lazy to move and waiting for other people to fill their mouths.  If they were here we’d make them work or they’d have to starve.  They’re talking about missionaries being sent out to convert them.  I heard a rousing sermon on Sunday, but it didn’t loosen my purse-strings.  Your greatest missionary is work, good hard labor, clearing up and planting.  Suppose those old Mayflower people had sat down and held out their hands for alms.  Do you suppose our Indians would have filled ’em with their corn, and fish, and game?  Not much.  They’d tied ’em to a tree and set fire to ’em.”  When Cousin Giles was excited he made elisions of speech rather unusual for a Boston man.  “They went to work and cut down trees, and built houses, and raised farm and garden truck, and made shoes and clothes, and roads and bridges, and built cities and towns, and shamed those countries thousands of years old.  And now we’re trying to help them by bringing over their goods and selling them.”

“And creating extravagance, Elizabeth would say,” returned Chilian, with a sort of humorous smile.

“Oh, you might as well keep the money going as to hoard it up in an old stocking, so long as it is honestly yours.  We’re getting to be quite a notable country, Chilian Leverett.”

They turned into Derby Street, and Cousin Giles paused to survey the garden.

“You’ve lots of things to enjoy here,” he said.  “I don’t know but it’s a sensible thing to take the good of what you have as you go along.  And little Miss here will have enough without your adding to the store.  You men of Salem ought to begin to do some big things build a college.”

“Oh, I think our young men would rather go to Harvard.  We don’t want to rival you.  We shall be the biggest New England seaport.  We’ll divide up the glories.”

Elizabeth was so taken by surprise that she was rather cross.  She liked things planned beforehand.  Now the tablecloth must come off.  This one had been on since Sunday and it had two darns in it.  And the old silver must come out.

“I don’t believe Cousin Giles would ever notice,” Eunice said.  “And I do think the china prettier than that old silver.”

“Well, it has the crown mark on it and the Leveretts owned it before they came from England.  Giles’ folks had some of it, too, but the Lord only knows what he’s done with his.  I dare say servants have made way with it, or banged it out of shape.  Anybody can have china.  Come, do be spry, Eunice.”

Cynthia went upstairs and had her hair brushed and a clean apron put on, though the other was not soiled.

“Rachel, what is an heiress?” she asked.

“Why some one, a woman, who inherits a good deal of money.”

“Does she have to wait until she is a woman?”

“Why, no.  Yes, in a way, too.  She can have the money spent upon her, but she can’t have it herself until she is twenty-one.”

Cynthia wondered how it would seem to go and spend money, buy ever so many things.  But she really couldn’t think of anything she wanted, unless it was a house of her very own, and books, and pretty pictures, not portraits of old-fashioned men and women.  And a pony and a dainty chaise.  But then she was such a little girl, and she wouldn’t want to leave Cousin Chilian.

Elizabeth made delicious cream shortcake for supper.  Cousin Giles said everything tasted better up here, perhaps it was the clear salt water.  There were so many fresh ponds and streams around Boston.  But there were big plans for drainage and for docking out.  Then Elizabeth was such a fine cook.

The two men sat out on the stoop in the summer moonlight and Cynthia thought Cousin Giles really quarrelled trying to establish the superiority of Boston.  Then they talked about investments and Captain Leverett, and Giles said, “Cynthia will be one of the richest women of Salem.  Chilian, you’ll have to look sharp that some schemer doesn’t marry her for her money.”

“You must come to bed, Cynthia,” declared Rachel.  Through the open window they could hear Cousin Giles’ voice plainly.

The men went the next morning to consider an investment Chilian had in view.  It had been thought best to divide the sums coming in between Salem and Boston.  Then they walked about and saw the improvements, the new docks being built to accommodate the shipping, the great fleet of boats, the busy ship-yard, the hurrying to and fro everywhere.  It was not merely finery, but spices and articles used in the arts.  Gum copal was brought from Zanzibar.  Indigo came in, though they were trying to raise that at the South.

And when Giles saw the new streets and fine houses, and Mr. Derby’s, that was to cost eighty thousand dollars, he did open his eyes in surprise.  Though he said rather grudgingly: 

“It’s a shame for one little girl to have all that money.  There should have been three or four children.  Fifty years ago the Leveretts had such big families they bid fair to overrun the earth, and now they’ve dwindled down to next to nothing.  Chilian, why don’t you marry?”

“The same to yourself.  Are you clinging to any old memory?”

“Well, not just that.  I don’t seem to have time.  Now you are a fellow of leisure.  Get about it, man, and hunt up a wife.”