After all, they were foolish lovers.  She did not hoard up any sweetness.  If he could not look forward to so many years, she must give him a double portion.  That was her only regret about him, and she never confessed that.

He was surprised at himself.  If she had loved another, the wound of loneliness must have bled inwardly until it sapped his life.  Oh, how daintily sweet she was!  Every day he found some new trait.

“You see,” she explained to Miss Winn, “we shall all keep together.  Father trusted you to the uttermost, and you have been nobly loyal.  I couldn’t do without you.  And no one could look so well after Cousin Eunice, who will keep growing older.”

That was true enough.  She was very well content in her home, and at her time of life did not care to try a new one.  Cynthia was almost like a child to her.

Meanwhile matters had not gone prosperously with old Salem, England had claimed her right of search, against which the country strongly protested.  The British government issued orders, and the French Emperor decrees, forbidding ships of neutrals to enter the ports, or engage in trade with their respective enemies.  This crippled the trade of Salem.  Then there had been the embargo, which for a while closed the ports.  But the town went on improving.  Fortunes had been made and now were being spent.  But much of the shipping lay idle.  Yet the social life went on, there was marrying and giving in marriage.

Of course, there was some gossip about the Saltonstall fiasco.  No one, at least very few, supposed a sensible girl would give up such an opportunity to settle herself.  Miss Cynthia would no doubt use her best efforts to get him back.  She seemed superbly indifferent to the gossip.

At first Chilian insisted upon an engagement of some length, so that she might be sure of the wisdom of the step.  But she only laughed in her charming fashion, and declared she would not give up the old house, much more its owner.

But they had a quiet wedding, with only the choicest friends, and then they went to Boston to escape the wonderings.  Cousin Giles was really displeased.

“It’s an unfair thing for an old fellow like you to do.  And you had money enough of your own; her fortune should have gone to help some nice young fellow along.  Why, really Cynthia has hardly outgrown childhood.  You might have been her father!”

“Hardly!” returned Chilian dryly.

On their return the house was opened and really crowded with guests.  Cynthia was in her most splendid attire.  Happiness had certainly improved Chilian Leverett, he had gained some flesh and looked younger.  The most beautiful belongings had been brought out to decorate the rooms.

“For I am not going to have them stored away for possible grandchildren,” she declared gayly.

And the guests had a charming welcome.  The younger girls were truly glad she had made her election, and no one could deny that she was very much in love with her husband.  Neither had need to marry for money, since both had fortunes.  And they wished her health and happiness with all their hearts.

Jane had said to her, “Mis’ Leverett, there’s an old adage: 

“’Change the name and not the letter,
You marry for worse and not for better.’”

Cynthia laughed.  “I’m not going to let signs or omens trouble me.  And I haven’t even changed my name, so the letter cannot count.  And it is one of the good old Salem names.  It was my dear father’s.”

One incident touched Cynthia deeply.  Eunice took her up in the garret one day and exhumed from a chest the beautiful white quilt of Elizabeth’s handiwork.  Pinned to one corner was a card, “For my little Cynthia.”

“Only a few days before she had her stroke she made me write this and go up and pin it on the quilt.  Maybe she’d had a warning, people do sometimes.  I supposed she’d leave it to Chilian.  Oh, my dear, she’d be so glad to have you go on in the old house if she could know.”

Eunice wiped the tears from her eyes.  Cynthia bent over and kissed among the stitches the poor fingers had toiled at day after day, sorry for the toil, glad for the love that came at the last.

The Leverett house opened its doors with a generous hospitality.  People, men at least, began to think of something beside money-making, and some fine plans were broached.  Chilian Leverett seemed to grow younger.  Cynthia should not miss the joys of youth out of her life.  He did something more than dance minuets, for her sake he essayed quadrilles.  The exquisite motion with her, her dainty hand in his, or at times resting on his shoulder, filled him with an all-pervading delight.

“Chilian, do you realize that you are a really beautiful dancer?” she said one evening after they had returned from a small company.

“Then I must have caught it from you.  In my youth dancing was considered frivolous.”

“And in India you hire the men and women to dance for you, and follow the enchanting motions with your eye.  But it is so warm out there.”

She had been playing one evening when she started up, exclaiming, “Let us try that new thing the waltz.  It is just made for two people very much in love.”

“It is?” He smiled in the eager face.  It was said that she could twist him around her finger.  “Why, we have no music.”

“I can sing the measure, just la, la!” and she started the melody.  There were two long paths of moonlight through the wide-open shutters.  Moonlight and sunshine were welcome visitors.  She held out her hands.  Just that way she had charmed others, and he yielded to the seductive influence.  For, oh, she was so young and sweet.

It was a little awkward at first, but they soon found the steps.  It was rather slow and graceful, not the mad whirl of later times.  It was considered rather reprehensible, but between husband and wife it was right enough.  They found it very fascinating.

After a while a sort of grave, sweet seriousness came over her.  She liked to sit in the study and have him read poetry to her while she sewed.  She had never loved sewing, but now she had taken a fancy to it.  Dainty little lacey things, with the softest of muslins, treasures that had come from India.  For there were stacks of towels and sheets and useful articles, so why should she bother about them?

Jane was married and a middle-aged, homeless widow was very glad to come.  Miss Winn took the head of the housekeeping, and Cousin Eunice was very willing.

Then there came to them both a little son.  Women often dream of babies of their own, but men have so many outside interests.  There really were people at that time who thought children a boon and blessing of the Lord.  Chilian Leverett was amazed, rendered speechless with joy.  His own little son, Cynthia’s little son, the life and love of both hearts.  His cup of joy and thankfulness ran over.  For he had never imagined there could be such perfect bliss.  He thought over the time when the little girl had come, and he had not wanted her.  Now she had brought him life’s choicest blessing.

Meanwhile events ran on which were to thrill all hearts and make stirring history.  For war had been declared.

Handsome, pleasure-loving Edward Saltonstall volunteered in the army.  Perilous times there were on the northern frontier, dreadful losses, few gains, until suddenly the Lake battles changed the aspect and won the splendid victories that thrilled every heart.

But Salem’s almost meteoric prosperity came to a sudden halt, for there was war on the high seas as well.  The whole mercantile marine was refitted and turned out to win what it might in other channels.  Privateering was held right enough in those days.

There was the electrifying capture of the Guerrière and her being towed into Boston with Captain Dacres as a prisoner, and another to be quite as famous, that of the United States and the Macedonia, where the American loss seemed incredibly small.  Other splendid victories as well.  But it was not until February, 1815, after nearly four years of struggle and war, that peace was again declared with the Colonies as victorious.  America had won her right to the liberty of the seas, as well as that of the land.

But the supremacy of trade no longer could be claimed for Salem.  Other ports were built up, other markets opened.  Cities saw the advantage of foreign trade.  American products were shipped hither and thither.  No one city had the monopoly.

But romances flourished all the same and were to be handed down to other generations.  There was the old Forester house, with its legends, its lovely gardens, and fine pictures.  And the beautiful house of Elias Hasket Derby, in which he had lived but such a short time.  No one felt rich enough then to undertake such a costly establishment, and finally the estate came into possession of the city, and the big area was named Derby Square, and a commodious market built and a Town Hall.  When that was opened President Monroe made a visit to Salem, and was enthusiastically received there, citizens thronging to see him.  The next day Judge Story entertained him, and Mr. Stephen White, of Washington Square, gave a ball in his honor.  The Leveretts were among the guests, and Captain Edward Saltonstall, who had won promotions by brave conduct under General Harrison, but was now a private citizen and a fine-looking man, with a new bevy of girls as eager for his attentions as the others were seven or eight years before.

There was another guest who claimed, or at least received, a good share of attention.  This was the naval Captain Marsh, who had been in the encounter between the Macedonia and the frigate United States, Captain Decatur, which was considered one of the greatest of the naval battles.  For his bravery then and afterward, he had been promoted and was now a captain in command of a fine vessel.

Cynthia was delighted to see him; but she said he must visit them to talk over matters and the wonders that had happened to him.  She would not dance any, although she was in the grand march with her husband.  Mr. Saltonstall she saw quite frequently.  His parents were quite old people and he was devoted to them.

She wondered at times if any old fancy kept him single.  If so, she was sincerely sorry.  For she had been very, very happy with the husband of her love.  And in the household there were two merry, frolicking boys, and a sweet little girl, with her mother’s eyes.

Captain Marsh did come and he was delighted with his visit.  The little boys climbed over him as if they had known him always.  He told the story of the terrific battle at the Canaries, and many another battle that had left him unscathed.

“And I used to think if I came back to old Salem and found you unmarried, it would go hard with me if I could not win you,” he said to Cynthia in his cordial, manly fashion.  “And I confess to you now if Dame Wilby had struck you that day at school, I should have rushed at her like a tiger.  I like that remembrance of you standing there so brave and defying.”

They both laughed over it.

She had changed very little.  Chilian said she grew younger with the birth of every baby.  She was happy and merry, truly the light of the house, and Cousin Eunice was the happiest grandmother in all of Salem.  Miss Winn shared their joys so far there had been no sorrows.

Chilian grew a little stouter with advancing years, which really improved him.  He took a warm interest in the new projects.  There was the Essex Historical Society, gathering portraits and relics of the older Salem, and the East India Marine Society was enlarging its scope.  The new Salem was to be curiously intellectual, historic, and one might say antiquarian.  Modernized and transformed in many respects, it still has the old-time fragrance of sandalwood and incense when the chests in the old garrets are turned over for fine things that came from India a century before.

Cousin Giles aged more rapidly, but then he was considerably older than Chilian.  He did adopt young Anthony, and insisted upon his taking the name of Leverett, and a share of the business burthens.  And he married quite to the approval of the elder man, though not such an heiress as Cynthia.

And no one was dreaming that the little boy born in Union Street in 1804 was to add such interest and lustre to his native town that the scenes of his curious wizard-like romances were to be settled upon by those interested in them and handed down as actual occurrences.  Do we not all know Hester Prynne and Mr. Dimmesdale, Phebe and Hephzibah and Judge Pyncheon, and weird old Dr. Grimshawe, and many another that have flitted through the pages of Hawthorne’s strange romances, leaving Salem the richer by the memories?

There was another little girl who was to grow up and take a great interest in all these things, and finally to see the old Leverett house pass away, after its more than two hundred years.  But it was a new and doubly interesting Salem then, with its several evolutions that have passed and gone.

She lived a long and happy life, this little girl who came back to her birthplace consigned to Chilian Leverett’s care, and won his love that never changed, or grew any less.  Her sons never tired of the old reminiscences.  Many of the old houses were still standing.  Here President Washington had been entertained; here the artist Copley had lived and painted portraits that are heirlooms; Justice Story and his gifted son, poet and artist; Prescott, the historian, and many another of whom the country is proud to-day, and civilians whose fine thought and noble work have made the city a Mecca for intellectual tourists, and a beautiful and interesting abiding-place for her citizens, a town of three striking epochs that linger not only in tradition but in history.