A LITTLE GIRL IN OLD BOSTON

 By AMANDA M. DOUGLAS

A. L. BURT COMPANYPUBLISHERS NEW YORK

COPYRIGHT, 1898, BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY. 

SALLIE BUFFUM:

 To you, who have been a little girl in later Boston, I inscribe this story of another little girl who lived almost a hundred years ago, and found life busy and pleasant and full of affection, as I hope it will prove to you. 

 AMANDA M. DOUGLAS. NEWARK, N. J. , 1898. 

CONTENTS. 

 I. DORIS

 II. IN A NEW HOME

 III. AUNT PRISCILLA

 IV. OUT TO TEA

 V. A MORNING AT SCHOOL

 VI. A BIRTHDAY PARTY

 VII. ABOUT A GOWN

 VIII. SINFUL OR NOT?

 IX. WHAT WINTER BROUGHT

 X. CONCERNING MANY THINGS

 XI. A LITTLE CHRISTMAS

 XII. A CHILDREN'S PARTY

 XIII. VARIOUS OPINIONS OF LITTLE GIRLS

 XIV. IN THE SPRING

 XV. A FREEDOM SUIT

 XVI. A SUMMER IN BOSTON

 XVII. ANOTHER GIRL

 XVIII. WINTER AND SORROW

 XIX. THE HIGH RESOLVE OF YOUTH

 XX. A VISITOR FOR DORIS

 XXI. ELIZABETH AND--PEACE

 XXII. CARY ADAMS

 XXIII. THE COST OF WOMANHOOD

 XXIV. THE BLOOM OF LIFE--LOVE

A LITTLE GIRL IN OLD BOSTON

CHAPTER I

DORIS

"I do suppose she is a Papist! The French generally are, " said AuntPriscilla, drawing her brows in a delicate sort of frown, and sippingher tea with a spoon that had the London crown mark, and had been buriedearly in revolutionary times. 

"Why, there were all the Huguenots who emigrated from France for thesake of worshiping God in their own way rather than that of the Pope. WePuritans did not take all the free-will, " declared Betty spiritedly. 

"You are too flippant, Betty, " returned Aunt Priscilla severely. "And Idoubt if her father's people had much experimental religion. Then, shehas been living in a very hot-bed of superstition!"

"The cold, dreary Lincolnshire coast! I think it would take a good dealof zeal to warm me, even if it was superstition. "

"And she was in a convent after her mother died! Yes, she is pretty sureto be a Papist. It seems rather queer that second-cousin Charles shouldhave remembered her in his will. "

"But Charles was his namesake and nephew, the child of his favoritesister, " interposed Mrs. Leverett, glancing deprecatingly at Betty, pleading with the most beseeching eyes that she should not ruffle AuntPriscilla up the wrong way. 

"But what is that old ma'shland good for, anyway?" asked Aunt Priscilla. 

"Why they are filling in and building docks, " said Betty theirrepressible. "Father thinks by the time she is grown it will be ahandsome fortune. "

Aunt Priscilla gave a queer sound that was not a sniff, but had adownward tendency, as if it was formed of inharmonious consonants. Itexpressed both doubt and disapproval. 

"But think of the expense and the taxes! You can't put a bit ofimprovement on anything but the taxes eat it up. I want my hall doorpainted, and the cornishes, "--Aunt Priscilla always would pronounce itthat way, --"but I mean to wait until the assessor has been round. It'sthe best time to paint in cool weather, too. I can't afford to pay a manfor painting and then pay the city for the privilege. "

No one controverted Mrs. Perkins. She broke off her bread in bits andsipped her tea. 

"Why didn't they give her some kind of a Christian name?" she begansuddenly. "Don't you suppose it is French for the plain, old-fashioned, sensible name of Dorothy?"

Betty laughed. "Oh, Aunt Priscilla, it's pure Greek. Doris and Phyllisand Chloe----"

"Phyllis and Chloe are regular nigger names, " with the utmost disdain. 

"But Greek, all the same. Ask Uncle Winthrop. "

"Well, I shall call her Dorothy. I'm neither Greek nor Latin nor acollege professor. There's no law against my being sensible, fursisee"--which really meant "far as I see. " "And the idea ofappointing Winthrop Adams her guardian! I did think second-cousinCharles had more sense. Winthrop thinks of nothing but books and goingback to the Creation of the World, just as if the Lord couldn't havemade things straight in the beginning without his help. I dare say hewill find out what language they talked before the dispersion of Babel. People are growing so wise nowadays, turning the Bible inside out!" andshe gave her characteristic sniff. "I'll have another cup of tea, Elizabeth. Now that we're through with the war, and settled solid-likewith a President at the helm, we can look forward to somethingpermanent, and comfort ourselves that it was worth trying for. Still, I've often thought of that awful waste of tea in Boston harbor. Seems asthough they might have done something else with it. Tea will keep a goodlong while. And all that wretched stuff we used to drink and call itLiberty tea!"

"I don't know as we regret many of the sacrifices, though it came harderon the older people. We have a good deal to be proud of, " said Mrs. Leverett. 

"And a grandfather who was at Bunker Hill, " appended Betty. 

Aunt Priscilla never quite knew where she belonged. She had come overwith the Puritans, at least her ancestors had, but then there had been atitle in the English branch; and though she scoffed a little, she hadgreat respect for royalty, and secretly regretted they had not calledthe head of the government by a more dignified appellation thanPresident. Her mother had been a Church of England member, but ratheraustere Mr. Adams believed that wives were to submit themselves to theirhusbands in matters of belief as well as aught else. Then PriscillaAdams, at the age of nineteen, had wedded the man of her father'schoice, Hatfield Perkins, who was a stanch upholder of the Puritanfaith. Priscilla would have enjoyed a little foolish love-making, andshe had a carnal hankering for fine gowns; and, oh, how she did long todance in her youth, when she was slim and light-footed!

In spite of all, she had been a true Puritan outwardly, and had a littlemisgiving that the prayers of the Church were vain repetitions, theorgan wickedly frivolous, and the ringing of bells suggestive of popery. There had been no children, and a bad fall had lamed her husband so thatvolunteering for a soldier was out of the question, but he had assistedwith his means; and some twelve years before this left his widow incomfortable circumstances for the times. 

She kept to her plain dress, although it was rich; and her housemaid wasan elderly black woman who had been a slave in her childhood. Shedevoted a good deal of thought as to who should inherit her propertywhen she was done with it. For those she held in the highest esteem wereelderly like herself, and the young people were flighty and extravagantand despised the good old ways of prudence and thrift. 

They were having early tea at Mrs. Leverett's. Aunt Priscilla's motherhad been half-sister to Mrs. Leverett's mother. In the old days of largefamilies nearly everyone came to be related. It was always very cozy inSudbury Street, and Foster Leverett was in the ship chandlery trade. Aunt Priscilla _did_ love a good cup of tea. Whether the quality wasfiner, or there was some peculiar art in brewing it, she could neverquite decide; or whether the social cream of gentle Elizabeth Leverett, and the spice of Betty, added to the taste and heightened the flavorbeyond her solitary cup. 

Early October had already brought chilling airs when evening set in. Acentury or so ago autumn had the sharpness of coming winter in the earlymorning and after sundown. There was a cheerful wood fire on thehearth, and its blaze lighted the room sufficiently, as the red light ofthe sunset poured through a large double window. 

The house had a wide hall through the center that was really thekeeping-room. The chimney stood about halfway down, a great stone affairbuilt out in the room, tiled about with Scriptural scenes, with twotiers of shelves above, whereon were ranged the family heirlooms--sohigh, indeed, that a stool had to be used to stand on when they weredusted. Just below this began a winding staircase with carved spindlesand a mahogany rail and newel, considered quite an extravagance in thatday. 

This lower end was the living part. In one of the corners was built thebuffet, while a door opposite led into the wide kitchen. Across the backwas a porch where shutters were hung in the winter to keep out the cold. 

The great dining table was pushed up against the wall. The round teatable was set out and the three ladies were having their tea, quite acommon custom when there was a visitor, as the men folk were late comingin and a little uncertain. 

On one side the hall opened in two large, well-appointed rooms. On theother were the kitchen and "mother's room, " where, when the childrenwere little, there had been a cradle and a trundle bed. But one son andtwo daughters were married; one son was in his father's warehouse, andwas now about twenty; the next baby boy had died; and Betty, theyoungest, was sixteen, pretty, and a little spoiled, of course. Yet AuntPriscilla had a curious fondness for her, which she insisted to herselfwas very reprehensible, since Betty was such a feather-brained girl. 

"It is to be hoped the ship did get in to-day, " Aunt Priscilla beganpresently. "If there's anything I hate, it's being on tenterhooks. "

"She was spoken this morning. There's always more or less delay withpilots and tides and what not, " replied Mrs. Leverett. 

"The idea of sending a child like that alone! The weather has been fine, but we don't know how it was on the ocean. "

"Captain Grier is a friend of Uncle Win's, you know, " appended Betty. 

"Betty, do try and call your relatives by their proper names. An elderlyman, too! It does sound so disrespectful! Young folks of to-day seem tohave no regard for what is due other people. Oh----"

There was a kind of stamping and shuffling on the porch, and the doorwas flung open, letting in a gust of autumnal air full of spicy odorsfrom the trees and vines outside. Betty sprang up, while her motherfollowed more slowly. There were her father and her brother Warren, andthe latter had by the hand the little girl who had crossed the ocean tocome to the famous city of the New World, Boston. Almost two hundredyears before an ancestor had crossed from old Boston, in the ship_Arabella_, and settled here, taking his share of pilgrim hardships. Doris' father, when a boy, had been sent back to England to be adoptedas the heir of a long line. But the old relative married and had twosons of his own, though he did well by the boy, who went to France andmarried a pretty French girl. After seven years of unbroken happinessthe sweet young wife had died. Then little Doris, six years of age, hadspent two years in a convent. From there her father had taken her toLincolnshire and placed her with two elderly relatives, while he wasplanning and arranging his affairs to come back to America with hislittle daughter. But one night, being out with a sailing party, a suddenstorm had caught them and swept them out of life in an instant. 

Second-cousin Charles Adams had been in correspondence with him, andadvised him to return. Being in feeble health, he had included him andhis heirs in his will, appointing his nephew Winthrop Adams executor, and died before the news of the death of his distant relative hadreached him. The Lincolnshire ladies were too old to have the care andrearing of a child, so Mr. Winthrop Adams had sent by Captain Grier tobring over the little girl. Her father's estate, not very large, was inmoney and easily managed. And now little Doris was nearing ten. 

"Oh!" cried Betty, hugging the slim figure in the red camlet cloak, andpeering into the queer big hat tied down over her ears with broadribbons that, what with the big bow and the wide rim, almost hid herface; but she saw two soft lovely eyes and cherry-red lips that shekissed at once, though kissing had not come in fashion to any greatextent, and was still considered by many people rather dubious if notpositively sinful. 

"Oh, little Doris, welcome to Boston and the United Colonies and thewhole of America! Let me see how you look, " and she untied the widestrings. 

The head that emerged was covered with fair curling hair; the complexionwas clear, but a little wind-burned from her long trip; the eyes werevery dark, but of the deepest, softest blue, that suggested twilight. There was a dimple in the dainty chin, and the mouth had ahalf-frightened, half-wistful smile. 

"Captain Grier will send up her boxes to-morrow. They got aground andwere delayed. I began to think they would have to stay out all night. The captain will bring up a lot of papers for Winthrop, and everything, "explained Mr. Leverett. "Are you cold, little one?"

Doris gave a great shiver as her cloak was taken off, but it was morenervousness than cold, and the glances of the strange faces. Then shewalked straight to the fireplace. 

"Oh, what a beautiful fire!" she exclaimed. "No, I am not cold"--and thewistful expression wandered from one to the other. 

"This is my daughter Betty, and this is--why, you may as well begin bysaying Aunt Elizabeth at once. How are you, Aunt Priscilla? This is ourlittle French-English girl, but I hope she will turn into a stanchBoston girl. Now, mother, let's have a good supper. I'm hungry as awolf. "

Doris caught Betty's hand again and pressed it to her cheek. The smilingface won her at once. 

"Did you have a pleasant voyage?" asked Mrs. Leverett, as she was pilingup the cups and saucers, and paused to smile at the little stranger. 

"There were some storms, and I was afraid then. It made me think ofpapa. But there was a good deal of sunshine. And I was quite ill atfirst, but the captain was very nice, and Mrs. Jewett had two littlegirls, so after a while we played together. And then I think we forgotall about being at sea--it was so like a house, except there were nogardens or fields and trees. "

Mrs. Leverett went out to the kitchen, and soon there was the savorysmell of frying sausage. Betty placed Doris in a chair by the chimneycorner and began to rearrange the table. Warren went out to the kitchenand, as by the farthest window there was a sort of high bench with a tinbasin, a pail of water, and a long roller towel, he began to wash hisface and hands, telling his mother meanwhile the occurrences of the lasttwo or three hours. 

Aunt Priscilla drew up her chair and surveyed the little traveler withsome curiosity. She was rather shocked that the child was not dressed inmourning, and now she discovered, that her little gown was of brocadedsilk and much furbelowed, at which she frowned severely. 

True, her father had been dead more than a year; but her being an orphanmade it seem as if she should still be in the depths of woe. And she hadearrings and a brooch in the lace tucker. She gave her sniff--it wasvery wintry and contemptuous. 

"I suppose that's the latest French fashion, " she said sharply. "If Ilived in England I should just despise French clothes. "

"Oh, " said Doris, "do you mean my gown? Miss Arabella made it for me. When she was a young lady she went up to London to see the king crowned, and they had a grand ball, and this was one of the gowns she had--notthe ball dress, for that was white satin with roses sprinkled over it. She's very old now, and she gave that to her cousin for a wedding dress. And she made this over for me. I got some tar on my blue stuff gownyesterday, and the others were so thin Mrs. Jewett thought I had betterput on this, but it is my very best gown. "

The artless sincerity and the soft sweet voice quite nonplused AuntPriscilla. Then Warren returned and dropped on a three-cornered stoolstanding there, and almost tilted over. 

"Now, if I had gone into the fire, like any other green log, how Ishould have sizzled!" he said laughingly. 

"Oh, I am so glad you didn't!" exclaimed Doris in affright. Then shesmiled softly. 

"Does it seem queer to be on land again?"

"Yes. I want to rock to and fro. " She made a pretty movement with herslender body, and nodded her head. 

"Are you very tired?"

"Oh, no. "

"You were out five weeks. "

"Is that a long while? I was homesick at first. I wanted to see MissArabella and Barby. Miss Henrietta is--is--not right in her mind, if youcan understand. And she is very old. She just sits in her chair all dayand mumbles. She was named for a queen--Henrietta Maria. "

Aunt Priscilla gave a disapproving sniff. 

"Supper's ready, " said Mr. Leverett. "Come. "

Warren took the small stranger by the hand, and she made a littlecourtesy, quite as if she were a grown lady. 

"What an airy little piece of vanity!" thought Aunt Priscilla. "Andwhatever will Winthrop Adams do with her, and no woman about the houseto train her!"

Betty came and poured tea for her father and Warren. Mr. Leverett piledup her plate, but, although the viands had an appetizing fragrance, Doris was not hungry. Everything was so new and strange, and she couldnot get the motion of the ship out of her head. But the pumpkin pie wasdelicious. She had never tasted anything like it. 

"You'll soon be a genuine Yankee girl, " declared Warren. "Pumpkin pie isthe test. "

Mr. Leverett and his son did full justice to the supper. Then he had togo out to a meeting. There were some clouds drifting over the skies ofthe new country, and many discussions as to future policy. 

"So, Aunt Priscilla, I'll beau you home, " said he; "unless you have amind to stay all night, or want a young fellow like Warren. "

"You're plenty old enough to be sensible, Foster Leverett, " she returnedsharply. She would have enjoyed a longer stay and was curious about thenewcomer, but when Betty brought her hat and shawl she said a stiffgood-night to everybody and went out with her escort. 

Betty cleared away the tea things, wiped the dishes for her mother andthen took a place beside Warren, who was very much interested in hearingthe little girl talk. There was a good deal of going back and forth toEngland although the journey seemed so long, but it was startling tohave a child sitting by the fireside, here in his father's house, whohad lived in both France and England. She had an odd little accent, too, but it gave her an added daintiness. She remembered her convent lifevery well, and her stay in Paris with her father. It seemed strange tohim that she could talk so tranquilly about her parents, but there hadbeen so many changes in her short life, and her father had been awayfrom her so much!

"It always seemed to me as if he must come back again, " she said with aserious little sigh, "as if he was over in France or down in London. Itis so strange to have anyone go away forever that I think you can't takeit in somehow. And Miss Arabella was always so good. She said if she hadbeen younger she should never have agreed to my coming. And all papa'srelatives were here, and someone who wrote to her and settled about thejourney. "

She glanced up inquiringly. 

"Yes. That's Uncle Winthrop Adams. He isn't an own uncle, but it seemssomehow more respectful to call him uncle. Mr. Adams would sound queer. And he will be your guardian. "

"A--guardian?"

"Well, he has the care of the property left to your father. There is ahouse that is rented, and a great plot of ground. Cousin Charles ownedso much land, and he never was married, so it had to go round to thecousins. He was very fond of your father as a little boy. And UncleWinthrop seems the proper person to take charge of you. "

Doris sighed. She seemed always being handed from one to another. 

She was sitting on the stool now, and when Betty slipped into the vacantchair she put her arm over the child's shoulder in a caressing manner. 

"Do you mean--that I would have to go and live with him?" she askedslowly. 

Warren laughed. "I declare I don't know what Uncle Win would do with alittle girl! Miss Recompense Gardiner keeps the house, and she's as primas the crimped edge of an apple pie. And there is only Cary. "

"Cary is at Harvard--at college, " explained Betty. "And, then, he isgoing to Europe for a tour. Uncle Win teaches some classes, and is agreat Greek and Latin scholar, and translates from the poets, and readsand studies--is a regular bookworm. His wife has been dead ever sinceCary was a baby. "

"I wish I could stay here, " said Doris, and, reaching up, she claspedher arms around Betty's neck. "I like your father, and your mother hassuch a sweet voice, and you--and him, " nodding her head over to Warren. "And since that--the other lady--doesn't live here----"

"Aunt Priscilla, " laughed Betty. "I think she improves on acquaintance. Her bark is worse than her bite. When I was a little girl I thought herjust awful, and never wanted to go there. Now I quite like it. I spendwhole days with her. But I shouldn't spend a night in praying thatProvidence would send her to live with us. I'd fifty times rather haveyou, you dear little midget. And, when everything is settled, I am ofthe opinion you will live with us, for a while at least. "

"I shall be so glad, " in a joyous, relieved tone. 

"Then if Uncle Win should ask you, don't be afraid of anybody, but justsay you want to stay here. That will settle it unless he thinks youought to go to school. But there are nice enough schools in Boston. AndI am glad you want to stay. I've wished a great many times that I had alittle sister. I have two, married. One lives over at Salem and one everso far away at Hartford. And I am Aunt Betty. I have five nephews andfour nieces. And you never can have any, you solitary little girl!"

"I think I don't mind if I can have you. "

"This is love at first sight. I've never been in love before, though Ihave some girl friends. And being in love means living with someone andwanting them all the time, and a lot of sweet, foolish stuff. What asilly girl I am! Well--you are to be my little sister. "

Oh, how sweet it was to find home and affection and welcome! Doris hadnot thought much about it, but now she was suddenly, unreasonably glad. She laid her head down on Betty's knee and looked at the dancing flames, the purples and misty grays, the scarlets and blues and greens, allmingling, then sending long arrowy darts that ran back and hid behindthe logs before you could think. 

Mrs. Leverett kneaded her bread and stirred up her griddle cakes formorning. It was early in the season to start with them, but with thefirst cold whiff Mr. Leverett began to beg for them. Then she fixed herfire, turned down her sleeves, took off the big apron that covered allher skirt, and rejoined the three by the fireside. 

"That child has gone fast asleep, " she exclaimed, looking at her. "Poorthing, I dare say she is all tired out! And, man-like, your father neverthought of her nightgown or anything to put on in the morning, andthat silk is nothing for a child to wear. I saw that it shocked AuntPriscilla. "

"And she told the story of it so prettily. It is a lovely thing--and tothink it has been to London to see the king!"

"You must take her in your bed, Betty. "

"Oh, of course. Mother, don't you suppose Uncle Win will consent to herstaying here? I want her. "

"It would be a good thing for you to have someone to look after, Betty. It would help steady you and give you some sense of responsibility. Theyoungest child always gets spoiled. Your father was speaking of it. Ican't imagine a child in Uncle Winthrop's household. "

Betty laughed. "Nor in Aunt Priscilla's, " she appended. 

"Poor little thing! How pretty she is. And what a long journey totake--and to come among strangers! Yes, she must go to bed at once. "

"I'll carry her upstairs, " said Warren. 

"Nonsense!" protested his mother. 

But he did for all that, and when he laid her on Betty's cold bed sheroused and smiled, and suffered herself to be made ready for slumber. Then she slipped down on her knees, and said "Our Father in Heaven" insoft, sleepy French. Her mother had taught her that. And in English sherepeated:

"Now I lay me down to sleep, " in remembrance of her father, and kissedBetty. But she had hardly touched the pillow when she was asleep againin her new home, Boston. 

CHAPTER II

IN A NEW HOME

The sun was shining when Doris opened her eyes, and she rubbed them tomake sure she was not dreaming. There was no motion, and her bed was sosoft and wide. She sat up straight, half-startled, and she seemed in awell of fluffy feathers. There were two white curtained windows and astraight splint chair at each one, with a queer little knob on the topof the post that suggested a sprite from some of the old legends she hadbeen used to hearing. 

What enchantment had transported her thither? Oh, yes--she had beenbrought to Cousin Leverett's, she remembered now; and, oh, how sleepyshe had been last night as she sat by the warm, crackling fire!

"Well, little Doris!" exclaimed a fresh, wholesome voice, with alaughing sound back of it. 

"Oh, you are Betty! It is like a dream. I could not think where I was atfirst. And this bed is so high. It's like Miss Arabella's with thecurtains around it. And at home I had a little pallet--just a low, straight bed almost like a bench, with no curtains. You slept here withme?"

"Yes. It is my bed and my room. And it was delightful to have you lastnight. I think you never stirred. My niece Elizabeth was here in thesummer from Salem, and after two nights I turned her out--she kickedunmercifully, and I couldn't endure it. Now, do you want to get up?"

"Oh, yes. Must I jump out or just slip. "

"Here is a stool. "

But Doris had slipped and come down on a rug of woven rags almost assoft as Persian pile. Her nightdress fell about her in a train; it wasBetty's, and she looked like a slim white wraith. 

"Now I will help you dress. Here is a gown of mine that I outgrew when Iwas a little girl, and it was so nice mother said it should be saved forElizabeth. We call her that because my other sister Electa has adaughter she calls Bessy. They are both named after mother. And so am I, but I have always been called Betty. So many of one name are confusing. But yours is so pretty and odd. I never knew a girl called Doris. "

"I am glad you like it, " said Doris simply. "It was papa's choice. Mymother's name was Jacqueline. "

"That is very French. "

"And that is my name, too. But Doris is easier to say. "

Betty had been helping her dress. The blue woolen gown was not any toolong, but, oh, it was worlds too wide! They both laughed. 

"_I_ wasn't such a slim little thing. See here, I will pin a plait overin front, and that will help it. Now that does nicely. And you must bechoice of that beautiful brocade. What a pity that you will outgrow it!It would make such a splendid gown when you go to parties. I've neverhad a silk gown, " and Betty sighed. 

They went downstairs. It would seem queer enough now to attend to one'stoilet in the corner of the kitchen, but it was quite customary then. InMrs. Leverett's room there were a washing stand with a white cloth, anda china bowl and ewer in dark blue flowers on a white ground, picked outwith gilt edges. The bowl had scallops around the edge, and the ewer wastall and slim. There were a soap dish and a small pitcher, and theylooked beautiful on the thick white cloth, that was fringed all around. It had been brought over from England by Mrs. Leverett's grandmother, and was esteemed very highly, and had been promised to Betty for hername. But Mrs. Leverett would have considered it sacrilege to use it. 

It is true, many houses now began to have wash rooms, which were verynice in summer, but of small account in winter, when the water froze soeasily, unless you could have a fire. 

When people sigh for the good old times they forget the hardships andthe inconveniences. 

Doris brushed out her hair and curled it in a twinkling; then she hadsome breakfast. Mrs. Leverett was baking bread and making pies and alarge cake full of raisins that Betty had seeded, which went by the nameof election cake. 

The kitchen was a great cheery place with some sunny windows and a bigoven built at one side, a capacious working table, a dresser, somewooden chairs, and a yellow-painted floor. The kitchen opened intomother's room as well as the hall. 

Doris sat and watched both busy women. At Miss Arabella's they had anold serving maid and the kitchen was not a place of tidiness and beauty. It had a hard dirt floor, and Barby sat out of doors in the sunshine todo whatever work she could take out there, and often washed and driedher dishes when the weather was pleasant. 

But here the houses were close enough to smile at each other. After thegreat spaces these yards seemed small, but there were trees and vines, and Mrs. Leverett had quite a garden spot, where she raised all mannerof sweet herbs and some vegetables. Mr. Leverett had a shop over on AnnStreet, and attended steadily to his business, early and late, as mendid at that time. 

The dining table was set out at noon, and soon after twelve o'clock thetwo men made their appearance. 

"Let me look at you, " said Mr. Leverett, taking both of Doris' smallhands. "I hardly saw you yesterday. You were buried in that big hat, andit was getting so dark. You have not much Adams about you, neither doyou look French. "

"Miss Arabella always said I looked like papa. There is a picture of himin my box. He had dark-blue eyes. "

"Well, yours would pass for black. Do they snap when you get out oftemper?"

Doris colored and cast them down. 

"Don't tease her, " interposed Mrs. Leverett. "She is not going to getangry. It is a bad thing for little girls. "

"I don't remember much of anything about your father. Both of your auntsare dead. You have one cousin somewhere--Margaret's husband married andwent South--to Virginia, didn't he? Well, there is no end of Adamsconnection even if some of them have different names. Captain Grierdropped into the warehouse with a tin box of papers, and your things areto be sent this afternoon. He is coming up this evening, and I've sentfor Uncle Win to come over to supper. Then I suppose the child's fatewill be settled, and she'll be a regular Boston girl. "

"I do wonder if Uncle Win will let her stay here? Mother and I havedecided that it is the best place. "

"Do _you_ think it a good place?"

He turned so suddenly to Doris that her face was scarlet withembarrassment. 

"It's splendid, " she said when she caught her breath. "I should like tostay. And Aunt Elizabeth will teach me to make pies. "

"Well, pies are pretty good things, according to my way of thinking. There's lots for little girls to learn, though I dare say Uncle Win willthink it can all come out of a book. "

"Some of it might come out of a cookbook, " said Betty demurely. 

"Your mother's the best cookbook I know about--good enough for anyone. "

"But we can't send mother all round the world. "

"We just don't want to, " said Warren. 

Mrs. Leverett smiled. She was proud of her ability in the culinary line. 

Mr. Leverett looked at Doris presently. "Come, come, " he begangood-naturedly, "this will never do! You are not eating enough to keep abird alive. No wonder you are so thin!"

"But I ate a great deal of breakfast, " explained Doris with naïvehonesty. 

"And you are not homesick?"

Doris thought a moment. "I don't want to go away, if that is what youmean. "

"Yes, that's about it, " nodding humorously. 

Warren thought her the quaintest, prettiest child he had ever seen, buthe hardly knew what to say to her. 

When the men had eaten and gone, the dishes were soon washed up, andthen mother and daughter brought their sewing. Mrs. Leverett was mendingWarren's coat. Betty darned a small pile of stockings, and then she tookout some needlework. She had begun her next summer's white gown, and shemeant to do it by odd spells, especially when Aunt Priscilla, who wouldlecture her on so much vanity, was not around. 

Mrs. Leverett gently questioned Doris--she was not an aggressive woman, nor unduly curious. No, Doris had not sewed much. Barby always darnedthe stockings, and Miss Easter had come to make whatever clothes sheneeded. She used to go to Father Langhorne and recite, and Mrs. Leverettwondered whether she and the father both were Roman Catholics. What didshe study? Oh, French and a little Latin, and she was reading historyand "Paradise Lost, " but she didn't like sums, and she could make pillowlace. Miss Arabella made beautiful pillow lace, and sometimes the grandladies came in carriages and paid her ever so much money for it. 

And presently dusk began to mingle with the golden touches of sunset, and Mrs. Leverett went to make biscuit and fry some chicken, and UncleWinthrop came at the same moment that a man on a dray brought anold-fashioned chest and carried it upstairs to Betty's room. But Bettyhad already attired Doris in her silk gown. 

Doris liked Uncle Winthrop at once, although he was so different fromUncle Leverett, who wore all around his face a brownish-red beard thatseemed to grow out of his neck, and had tumbled hair and a somewhatweather-beaten face. Mr. Winthrop Adams was two good inches taller andstood up very straight in spite of his being a bookworm. His complexionwas fair and rather pale, his features were of the long, slender type, which his beard, worn in the Vandyke style, intensified. His hair waslight and his eyes were a grayish blue, and he had a refined and gentleexpression. 

"So this is our little traveler, " he said. "Your father was somewhatolder, perhaps, when we bade him good-by, but I have often thought ofhim. We corresponded a little off and on. And I am glad to be able to doall that I can for his child. "

Doris glanced up, feeling rather shy, and wondering what she ought tosay, but in the next breath Betty had said it all, even to declaringlaughingly that as Doris had come to them they meant to keep her. 

"Doris, " he said softly. "Doris. You have a poetical name. And you arepoetical-looking. "

She wondered what the comparison meant. "Paradise Lost" was so grand ittired her. Oh, there was the old volume of Percy's "Reliques. " Did hemean like some of the sweet little things in that? Miss Arabella hadsaid it wasn't quite the thing for a child to read, and had taken itaway until she grew older. 

Uncle Winthrop took her hand again--a small, slim hand; and his wasslender as well. No real physical work had hardened it. He dropped intothe high-backed chair beside the fireplace, and, putting his arm abouther, drew her near to his side. Uncle Leverett would have taken her onhis knee if he had been moved by an impulse like that, but he was usedto children and grandchildren, and the bookish man was not. 

"It is a great change to you, " he said in his low tone, which had afascination for her. "Was Miss Arabella--were there any young people inthe old Lincolnshire house?"

"Oh, no. Miss Henrietta was very, very old, but then she had lost hermind and forgotten everybody. And Miss Arabella had snowy white hair anda sweet wrinkled face. "

"Did you go to school?"

"There wasn't any school except a dame's school for very littlechildren. I used to go twice a week to Father Langhorne and read andwrite and do sums. "

"Then we will have to educate you. Do you think you would like to go toschool?"

"I don't know. " She hung her head a little, and it gave her a still morewinsome expression. There was an indescribable charm about her. 

"What did you read with this father?"

"We read 'Paradise Lost' and some French. And I had begun Latin. "

Winthrop Adams gave a soft, surprised whistle. By the firelight helooked her over critically. Prodigies were not to his taste, and a girlprodigy would be an abhorrence. But her face had a sweet unconcern thatreassured him. 

"And did you like it--'Paradise Lost'?"

"I think I did--not, " returned Doris with hesitating frankness. "I likedthe verses in Percy's 'Reliques' better. I like verses that rhyme, thatyou can sing to yourself. "

"Ah! And how about the sums?"

"I didn't like them at all. But Miss Arabella said the right things wereoften hard, and the easy things----"

"Well, what is the fault of the easy things that we all like, and oughtnot to like?"

"They were not so good for anyone--though I don't see why. They areoften very pleasant. "

He laughed then, but some intuition told her he liked pleasant things aswell. 

"What do you do in such a case?"

"I did the sums. It was the right thing to do. And I studied Latin, though Miss Arabella said it was of no use to a girl. "

"And the French?"

"Oh, I learned French when I was very little and had mamma, and when Iwas in the convent, too. But papa talked English, so I had them both. Isn't it strange that afterward you have to learn so much about them, and how to make right sentences, and why they are right. It seems as ifthere were a great many things in the world to learn. Betty doesn't knowhalf of them, and she's as sweet as----Oh, I think the wisest person inthe world couldn't be any sweeter. "

Winthrop Adams smiled at the eager reasoning. Betty was a bright, gaygirl. What occult quality was sweetness? And Doris had been in aconvent. That startled him the first moment. The old strict bitternessand narrowness of Puritanism had been softened and refined away. Thepeople who had banished Quakers had for a long while tolerated RomanCatholics. He had known Father Matignon, and enjoyed the scholarly andwell-trained John Cheverus, who had lately been consecrated bishop. TheProtestants had even been generous to their brethren of another faithwhen they were building their church. As for himself he was a ratherstiff Church of England man, if he could be called stiff about anything. 

"And--did you like the convent?" he asked, after a pause, in which hegenerously made up his mind he would not interfere with her religiousbelief. 

"It's so long ago"--with a half-sigh. "I was very sad at first, andmissed mamma. Papa had to go away somewhere and couldn't take me. Yes, Iliked sister Thérèse very much. Mamma was a Huguenot, you know. "

"You see, I really do not know anything about her, and have known verylittle about your father since he was a small boy. "

"A small boy! How queer that seems, " and she gave a tender, ripplinglaugh. "Then you can tell me about him. He used to come to the conventonce in a while, and when he was ready to go to England he took me. Yes, I was sorry to leave Sister Thérèse and Sister Clare. There were somelittle girls, too. And then we went to Lincolnshire. Miss Arabella wasvery nice, and Barby was so queer and funny--at first I could hardlyunderstand her. And then we went to a pretty little church where theydidn't count beads nor pray to the Virgin nor Saints. But it was a gooddeal like. It was the Church of England. I suppose it had to bedifferent from the Church of France. "

"Yes. " He drew her a little closer. That was a bond of sympathy betweenthem. And just then Uncle Leverett and Warren came in, and there was ashaking of hands, and Uncle Leverett said:

"Well, I declare! The sight of you, Win, is good for sore eyes--wellones, too. "

"I am rather remiss in a social way, I must confess. I'll try to dobetter. The years fly around so, I have always felt sorry that I saw solittle of Cousin Charles until that last sad year. "

"It takes womenkind to keep up sociability. Charles and you might aswell have been a couple of old bachelors. "

Uncle Win gave his soft half-smile, which was really more of anindication than a smile. 

"Come to supper now, " said Mrs. Leverett. 

Doris kept hold of Uncle Win's hand until she reached her place. He wentaround to the other side of the table. She decided she liked him verymuch. She liked almost everybody: the captain had been so friendly, andMrs. Jewett and some of the ladies on board the vessel so kind. ButBetty and Uncle Win went to the very first place with her. 

The elders had all the conversation, and it seemed about some comingtrouble to the country that she did not understand. She knew there hadbeen war in France and various other European countries. Little girlswere not very well up in geography in those days, but they did learn agood deal listening to their elders. 

They were hardly through supper when Captain Grier came with the veryjapanned box papa had brought over from France and placed in MissArabella's care. His name was on it--"Charles Winthrop Adams. " Oh, andthat was Uncle Win's name, too! Surely, they _were_ relations! Dorisexperienced a sense of gladness. 

Betty brought out a table standing against the wainscot. You touched aspring underneath, and the circular side came up and made a flat top. The captain took a small key out of a curious long leathern purse, andUncle Win unlocked the box and spread out the papers. There was themarriage certificate of Jacqueline Marie de la Maur and Charles WinthropAdams, and the birth and baptismal record of Doris Jacqueline de la MaurAdams, and ever so many other records and letters. 

Mr. Winthrop Adams gave the captain a receipt for them, and thanked himcordially for all his care and attention to his little niece. 

"She was a pretty fair sailor after the first week, " said the captainwith a twinkle in his eye. He was very much wrinkled and weather-beaten, but jolly and good-humored. "And now, sissy, I'm glad you're safe withyour folks, and I hope you'll grow up into a nice clever woman. 'Taintno use wishin' you good looks, for you're purty as a pink now--one ofthem rather palish kind. But you'll soon have red cheeks. "

Doris had very red cheeks for a moment. Betty leaned over to herbrother, and whispered:

"What a splendid opportunity lost! Aunt Priscilla ought to be here tosay, 'Handsome is as handsome does. '"

Then Captain Grier shook hands all round and took his departure. 

Afterward the two men discussed business about the little girl. Theremust be another trustee, and papers must be taken out for guardianship. They would go to the court-house, say at eleven to-morrow, and puteverything in train. 

Betty took out some knitting. It was a stocking of fine linen thread, and along the instep it had a pretty openwork pattern that was like lacework. 

"That is to wear with slippers, " she explained to Doris. "But it's asight of work. 'Lecty had six pairs when she was married. That's mysecond sister, Mrs. King. She lives in Hartford. I want to go and makeher a visit this winter. "

Mrs. Leverett's stocking was of the more useful kind, blue-gray yarn, thick and warm, for her husband's winter wear. She did not have to countstitches and make throws, and take up two here and three there. 

"Warren, " said his mother, when he had poked the fire until she was on'pins and needles, '--they didn't call it nervous then, --"Warren, I am'most out of corn. I wish you'd go shell some. "

"The hens do eat an awful lot, seems to me. Why, I shelled only a fewnights ago. "

"I touched bottom when I gave them the last feed this afternoon. Byspring we won't have so many, " nodding in a half-humorous fashion. 

"Don't you want to come out and see me? You don't have any Indian corngrowing in England, I've heard. "

"Did it belong to the Indians?" asked Doris. 

"I rather guess it did, in the first instance. But now we plant it forourselves. _We_ don't, because father sold the two-acre lot, and they'rebringing a street through. So now we have only the meadow. "

Doris looked at the uncles, but she couldn't understand a word they weresaying. 

"Come!" Warren held out his hand. 

"Put the big kitchen apron round her, Warren, " said Betty, thinking ofher silk gown. 

He tied the apron round her neck and brought back the strings round herwaist, so she was all covered. Then he found her a low chair, and pokedthe kitchen fire, putting on a pine log to make a nice blaze. He broughtout from the shed a tub and a basket of ears of corn. Across the tub helaid the blade of an old saw and then sat on the end to keep it firm. 

"Now you'll see business. Maybe you've never seen any corn before?"

She looked over in the basket, and then took up an ear with a mysteriousexpression. 

"It won't bite you, " he said laughingly. 

"But how queer and hard, with all these little points, " pinching themwith her dainty fingers. 

"Grains, " he explained. "And a husk grows on the outside to keep itwarm. When the winter is going to be very cold the husk is very thick. "

"Will this winter be cold?"

"Land alive! yes. Winters always _are_ cold. "

Warren settled himself and drew the ear across the blade. A shower ofcorn rattled down on the bottom of the tub. 

"Oh! is that the way you peel it off?"

He threw his head back and laughed. 

"Oh, you Englisher! We _shell_ it off. "

"Well, it peels too. You peel a potato and an apple with a knife blade. Oh, what a pretty white core!"

"Cob. We Americans are adding new words to the language. A core hasseeds in it. There, see how soft it is. "

Doris took it in her hand and then laid her cheek against it. "Oh, howsoft and fuzzy it is!" she cried. "And what do you do with it?"

"We don't plant that part of it. That core has no seeds. You have toplant a grain like this. The little clear point we call a heart, andthat sprouts and grows. This is a good use for the cob. "

He had finished another, which he tossed into the fire. A bright blazeseemed to run over it all at once and die down. Then the small endflamed out and the fire crept along in a doubtful manner until it wasall covered again. 

"They're splendid to kindle the fire with. And pine cones. America haslots of useful things. "

"But they burn cones in France. I like the spicy smell. It's queerthough, " wrinkling her forehead. "Did the Indians know about corn thefirst?"

"That is the general impression unless America was settled before theIndians. Uncle Win has his head full of these things and is writing abook. And there is tobacco that Sir Walter Raleigh carried home fromVirginia. "

"Oh, I know about Sir Walter and Queen Elizabeth. "

"He was a splendid hero. I think people are growing tame now; there areno wars except Indian skirmishes. "

"Why, Napoleon is fighting all the time. "

"Oh, that doesn't count, " declared the young man with a lofty air. "Wehad some magnificent heroes in the Revolution. There are lots of placesfor you to see. Bunker Hill and Lexington and Concord and theheadquarters of Washington and Lafayette. The French were real good tous, though we have had some scrimmages with them. And now that you areto be a Boston girl----"

"But I was in Old Boston before, " and she laughed. "Very old Boston, that is so far back no one can remember, and it was called Ikanhoe, which means Boston. There is the old church and the abbey that St. Botolph founded. They came over somewhere in six hundred, and weremissionaries from France--St. Botolph and his brother. "

"Whew!" ejaculated Warren with a long whistle, looking up at the littlegirl as if she were hundreds of years old. 

Betty opened the door. "Uncle Win is going, " she announced. "Come andsay good-by to him. "

He was standing up with the box of papers in his hand, and saying:

"I must have you all over to tea some night, and Doris must come and seemy old house. And I have a big boy like Warren. Yes, we must be a littlemore friendly, for life is short at the best. And you are to stay here awhile with good Cousin Elizabeth, and I hope you will be content andhappy. "

She pressed the hand Uncle Win held out in both of hers. In all thechanges she had learned to be content, and she had a certainadaptiveness that kept her from being unhappy. She was very glad she wasgoing to stay with Betty, and glanced up with a bright smile. 

They all said good-night to Cousin Adams. Mr. Leverett turned the greatkey in the hall door, and it gave a shriek. 

"I must oil that lock to-morrow. It groans enough to raise the dead, "said Mrs. Leverett. 

CHAPTER III

AUNT PRISCILLA

There was quite a discussion about a school. 

Uncle Win had an idea Doris ought to begin high up in the scale. Forreally she was very well born on both sides. Her father had leftconsiderable money, and in a few years second-cousin Charles' bequestmight be quite valuable, if Aunt Priscilla did sniff over it. There wasMrs. Rawson's. 

"But that is mostly for young ladies, a kind of finishing school. And insome things Doris is quite behind, while in others far advanced. Therewill be time enough for accomplishments. And Mrs. Webb's is near by, which will be an object this cold winter. "

"I shouldn't like her to forget her French. And perhaps it would be aswell to go on with Latin, " Cousin Adams said. 

Mrs. Leverett was a very sensible woman, but she really did not see theneed of Latin for a girl. There was a kind of sentiment about French; ithad been her mother's native tongue, and one did now and then go toFrance. 

There had been a good deal of objection to even the medium education ofwomen among certain classes. The three "R's" had been considered allthat was necessary. And when the system of public education had beenfirst inaugurated it was thought quite sufficient for girls to go fromApril to October. Good wives and good mothers was the ideal held up togirls. But people were beginning to understand that ignorance was notalways goodness. Mrs. Rawson had done a great deal toward theenlightenment of this subject. The pioneer days were past, unless onewas seized with a mania for the new countries. 

Mrs. Leverett was secretly proud of her two married daughters. Mrs. King's husband had gone to the State legislature, and was consideredquite a rising politician. Mrs. Manning was a farmer's wife and held inhigh esteem for the management of her family. Betty was being inductednow into all household accomplishments with the hope that she wouldmarry quite as well as her sisters. She was a good reader and speller;she had a really fine manuscript arithmetic, in which she had writtenthe rules and copied the sums herself. She had a book of "elegantextracts"; she also wrote down the text of the Sunday morning sermon andwhat she could remember of it. She knew the difference between thePuritans and the Pilgrims; she also knew how the thirteen States weresettled and by whom; she could answer almost any question about theFrench, the Indian, and the Revolutionary wars. She could do fineneedlework and the fancy stitches of the day. She was extremely "handy"with her needle. Mrs. Leverett called her a very well-educated girl, andthe Leveretts considered themselves some of the best old stock inBoston, if they were not much given to show. 

It might be different with Doris. But a good husband was the best thinga girl could have, in Mrs. Leverett's estimation, and knowing how tomake a good home her greatest accomplishment. 

They looked over Doris' chest and found some simple gowns, mostly summerones, pairs of fine stockings that had been cut down and made over byMiss Arabella's dainty fingers, and underclothes of a delicate quality. There were the miniatures of her parents--that of her mother verygirlish indeed--and a few trinkets and books. 

"She must have two good woolen frocks for winter, and a coat, " said Mrs. Leverett. "Cousin Winthrop said I should buy whatever was suitable. "

"And a little Puritan cap trimmed about with fur. I am sure I can makethat. And a strip of fur on her coat. She would blow away in that bighat if a high wind took her, " declared Betty. 

"And all the little girls wear them in winter. Still, I suppose OldBoston must have been cold and bleak in winter. "

"It was not so nearly an island. "

There was a good deal of work to do on Friday, so shopping was put offto the first of the week. Doris proved eagerly helpful and dusted verywell. In the afternoon Aunt Priscilla came over for her cup of tea. 

"Dear me, " she began with a great sigh, "I wish I had some nice younggirl that I could train, and who would take an interest in things. Polly_is_ too old. And I don't like to send her away, for she was good enoughwhen she had any sense. There's no place for her but the poorhouse, andI can't find it in my conscience to send her there. But I'm monstroustired of her, and I do think I'd feel better with a cheerful youngperson around. You're just fortunate, 'Lizabeth, that you and Betty cando for yourselves. "

"It answers, now that the family is small. But last year I found itquite trying. And Betty must have her two or three years' training athousekeeping. "

"Oh, of course. I'm glad you're so sensible, 'Lizabeth. Girls are veryflighty, nowadays, and are in the street half the time, and dancing andfrolicking round at night. I really don't know what the young generationwill be good for!"

Mrs. Leverett smiled. She remembered she had heard some such commentswhen she was young, though the lines were more strictly drawn then. 

"Has Winthrop been over to see his charge? How does he feel about it?Now, if she had been a boy----"

"He was up to tea last night, and he and Foster have been arranging thebusiness this morning. Foster is to be joint trustee, but Winthrop willbe her guardian. "

"What will he do with a girl! Why, she'll set Recompense crazy. "

"She is not going to live there. For the present she will stay here. Shewill go to Mrs. Webb's school this winter. He has an idea of sendingher to boarding school later on. "

"Is she that rich?" asked Aunt Priscilla with a little sarcasm. 

"She will have a small income from what her father left. Then there isthe rent of the house in School Street, and some stock. Winthrop thinksshe ought to be well educated. And if she should ever have to depend onherself, teaching seems quite a good thing. Even Mrs. Webb makes a verycomfortable living. "

"But we're going to educate the community for nothing, and tax thepeople who have no children to pay for it. "

"Well, " said Mrs. Leverett with a smile, "that evens up matters. But theothers, at least property owners, have to pay their share. I tell Fosterthat we ought not grudge our part, though we have no children to send. "

"How did people get along before?"

"I went to school until I was fifteen. "

"And when I was twelve I was doing my day's work spinning. There's talkthat we shall have to come back to it. Jonas Field is in a terribletaking. According to him war's bound to come. And this embargo is justruining everything. It is to be hoped we will have a new Presidentbefore everything goes. "

"Yes, it is making times hard. But we are learning to do a great dealmore for ourselves. "

"It behooves us not to waste our money. But Winthrop Adams hasn't muchreal calculation. So long as he has money to buy books, I suppose hethinks the world will go on all right. It's to be hoped Foster will lookout for the girl's interest a little. But you'll be foolish to take thebrunt of the thing. Now it would be just like you 'Lizabeth Leverett, totake care of this child, without a penny, just as if she was somecharity object thrown on your hands. "

Mrs. Leverett did give her soft laugh then. 

"You have just hit it, Aunt Priscilla, " she said. "Winthrop wanted topay her board, but Foster just wouldn't hear to it, this year at least. We have all taken a great liking to her, and she is to be our visitorfrom now until summer, when some other plans are to be made. "

"Well--if you have money to throw away----" gasped Aunt Priscilla. 

"She won't eat more than a chicken, and she'll sleep in Betty's bed. Itwill help steady Betty and be an interest to all of us. I reallycouldn't think of charging. It's like having one of the grandchildrenhere. And she needs a mother's care. Think of the poor little girl withnot a near relative! Aunt Priscilla, there's a good many things moneycan't buy. "

Aunt Priscilla sniffed. 

"Take off your bonnet and have a cup of tea, " Mrs. Leverett had askedher when she first came in. "It's such a long walk back to King Streeton an empty stomach. The children are making cookies, but Betty shallbrew a cup of tea at once, unless you'll wait till the men folks comein. "

Aunt Priscilla sat severe and undecided for a moment. The laughingvoices in the other room piqued and vexed and interested her all in abreath. She had come over to hear about Doris. There was so littleinterest in her methodical old life. Mrs. Leverett sincerely pitiedwomen who had no children and no grandchildren. 

"They're quite as queer as old maids without the real excuse, " she saidto her husband. "They've missed the best things out of their liveswithout really knowing they were the best. "

And perhaps at this era more respect was paid to age. There were certaintrials and duties to life that men and women accepted and did not try toevade. A modern happy woman would have been bored at the call of adissatisfied old woman every few days. But since the death of MehitableDoule, Priscilla's own cousin, who had been married from her house, shehad clung more to the Leveretts. Foster was too easy-going, otherwiseshe had not much fault to find with him. He had prospered and wasforehanded, and his married son and daughters had been fairlysuccessful. 

"Well, I don't care if I do, " said Aunt Priscilla, with ahalf-reluctance. "Though I hadn't decided to when I came away, andPolly'll make a great hole in that cold roast pork, for I never said aword as to what she should have for supper. She's come to have no moresense than a child, and some things are bad to eat at night. But if shemakes herself sick she'll have to suffer. "

"I'll have some tea made----"

"No, 'Lizabeth, don't fuss. I shan't be in any hurry, if I do stay, andthe men will be in before long. So Winthrop wasn't real put out when hesaw the girl?"

"I think he liked her. He's not much hand to make a fuss, you know. Hefeels she must be well brought up. Her mother, it seems, was quitequality. "

"Queer the mother's folks didn't look after her. "

"Her mother was an only child. Winthrop has the records back severalgenerations. And when _she_ died the father was alive, you know. "

"Winthrop is a great stickler for such things. It's good to have folksyou're not ashamed of, to be sure, but family isn't everything. Behavingcounts. "

Aunt Priscilla took off her bonnet and shawl, and hung them in the"best" closet, where the Sunday coats and cloaks were kept. 

"You might just hand me that knitting, 'Lizabeth. I guess I knit alittle tighter'n you do, on account of my hand being out. I've more thanenough stockings to last my time out and some coarse ones for Polly. They spin yarn so much finer now. Footing many stockings this fall?"

"No. I knit Foster new ones late in the spring. He's easy, too. Warren'sthe one to gnaw out heels, though young people are so much on the go. "

Aunt Priscilla took up the stocking and pinned the sheath on her side. How gay the voices sounded in the kitchen! Then the door opened. 

"Just look, Aunt Elizabeth! Aren't they lovely! Betty let me cut themout and put them in the pans. Oh----"

Doris stood quite abashed, with a dish of tempting brown cookies in onehand. Her cheeks were like roses now, and Betty's kitchen apron madeanother frock over hers of gay chintz, that had been exhumed from thechest. 

"Good-afternoon, " recovering herself. 

"The cookies look delightful. I must taste one, " Mrs. Leverett saidsmilingly. 

She handed the plate to Aunt Priscilla. 

"It'll just spoil my supper if I eat one. But you may do up some in apaper, and I'll take them home. I'm glad to see you at something useful. Did you help about the house over there in England?"

"Oh, no. We had Barby, " answered the child simply. 

"Well, there's a deal for you to learn. I made bread just after I hadturned ten years old. Girls in old times learned to work. It wasn't allcooky-making, by a long shot!"

Doris made a little courtesy and disappeared. 

"I'd do something to that tousled hair, 'Lizabeth. Have her put it upor cut it off. It's good to cut a girl's hair; makes it thick andstrong. And curls do look so flighty and frivolous. "

"The new fashion is a wig with all the front in little curls. It's somuch less trouble if it is made of natural curly hair. "

"Are you going to set up for fashion in these hard times?" asked thevisitor disdainfully. 

"Not quite. But Betty Pickering is to be married in great state nextmonth, and we have been invited already. I suppose I ought to considerher in some sort a namesake. "

"I'm glad I haven't any fine relatives to be married, " and the sniff wasmade to do duty. 

Mrs. Leverett put down her sewing. She had drawn the threads and bastedthe wristbands and gussets for Betty to stitch, as they had come toshirt-making. The new ones of thick cotton cloth would be good forwinter wear. One had always to think ahead in this world if one wantedthings to come out even. 

Then she went out to the kitchen, and there was a gay chattering, as ifa colony of chimney swallows had met on a May morning. Aunt Priscillapushed up nearer the window. She had good eyesight still, and only woreglasses when she read or was doing some extra-fine work. 

Betty came in and rolled out the table as she greeted her relative. AuntPriscilla had a curiously lost feeling, as if somehow she had goneastray. No one ever would know about it, to be sure. There were timeswhen it seemed as if there must be a third power, between God and theEvil One. There were things neither good nor bad. If they were good theLord brought them to pass, --or ought to, --and if they were bad yourconscience was troubled. Aunt Priscilla had been elated over her ideaall day yesterday. It looked really generous to her. Of course CousinWinthrop couldn't be bothered with this little foreign girl, and theLeveretts had a lot of grandchildren. She might take this Dorothy Adams, and bring her up in a virtuous, useful fashion. She would go to school, of course, but there would be nights and mornings and Saturdays. In twoyears, at the latest, she would be able to take a good deal of charge ofthe house. All this time her own little fortune could be augmenting, interest on interest. And if she turned out fair, she would do thehandsome thing by her--leave her at least half of what she, Mrs. Perkins, possessed. 

And yet it was not achieved without a sort of mental wrestle. She wasnot quite sure it was spiritual enough to pray over; in fact, nothingjust like this had come into her life before. She was not the kind ofstuff out of which missionaries were made, and this wasn't justcharitable work. She would expect the girl to do something for herboard, but Polly would be good for a year or two more. Time did hangheavy on her hands, and this would be interest and employment, and agood turn. When matters were settled a little she would broach thesubject to Elizabeth. 

If Winthrop Adams meant to make a great lady out of her--why, that wasall there was to it! Times were hard and there might be war. Winthrophad a son of his own, and perhaps not so much money as people thought. And it did seem folly to waste the child's means. If she had somuch--enough to go to boarding school--she oughtn't be living on theLeveretts. Foster was having pretty tight squeezing to get along. 

They all wondered what made Aunt Priscilla so unaggressive at suppertime. She watched Doris furtively. All the household had a smile forher. Foster Leverett patted her soft hair, and Warren pinched her cheekin play. Betty gave her half a dozen hugs between times, and Mrs. Leverett smiled when Doris glanced her way. 

The quarter-moon was coming up when Priscilla Perkins opened the closetdoor for her things. 

"I'll walk over with Aunt Priscilla, " said Warren. "It's my night forpractice. "

"Oh, yes. " His father nodded. Warren had lately joined the band, but hismother thought she couldn't stand the cornet round the house. 

"I aint a mite afraid in the moonlight. I come so often I ought not putanyone out. "

"Now that the evenings are cool it seems lonesomer, " said Mr. Leverett, settling in his armchair by the fire, really glad his son could beattentive without any special sacrifice. 

Doris brought the queer little stool and sat down beside him. She lookedas if she had always lived there. 

"You'll all spoil that child, " Aunt Priscilla said to Warren when theyhad stepped off the stoop. 

"I don't believe there's any spoil to her, " said Warren heartily. "She'sthe sweetest little thing I ever saw; so wise in some ways and sohonestly ignorant in others. I never saw Uncle Win so taken--he neverseems to quite know what to do with children. And he's asked us all overto tea some night next week. I was clear struck. "

Mrs. Perkins made no reply. About once a year he invited her over to teawith some of the old cousins, and he called on her New Year's Day, whichwas not specially kept in any fashionable way. 

Mrs. Perkins always said King Street, though in a burst of patriotismthe name had been changed after the Revolution. It had dropped down verymuch and was being given over to business. There was a narrow hall floorset in a little distance, with a few steps, and the shop front with theplain sign of "Jonas Field, Flour, Grain, and Feed. " The stairway led toan upper hall and a very comfortable suite of rooms, where Mrs. Perkinshad come as a young wife, and where she meant to end her days. It wasplenty good enough inside, and she "didn't live in the street. "

The best room occupied the whole front and had three windows. Priscillahad been barely nineteen when she was married, and Hatfield Perkinsquite a bachelor. And, as no children had come to disturb their orderlyhabits, they had settled more securely in them year after year. 

Next to the parlor was the sleeping chamber. Now, it was the spare room, though no one came to stay all night who was fine enough to put in it. The smaller one adjoining she had used since her husband's death. Therewas a little tea room, and a big kitchen at the back. Downstairs thestore part had been built out, and on the roof of this the clothes weredried. Polly always sat out here in pleasant weather, to preparevegetables and do various chores. The lot was deep, and at the back weresome fruit trees, and the patch of herbs every woman thought she musthave, and a square of grass for bleaching. 

A lighted lamp stood at the head of the stairs. Polly was dozing in thekitchen. Mrs. Perkins sent her to bed in short order. There were tworooms and a storage closet upstairs in the gables. One was Polly's. Theother was the guest chamber that was good enough "for the common run offolks. "

The moon was shining in the back windows. Priscilla snuffed out thecandle; there was no use wasting candle light. She sat down in a lowrocker, the only one she owned; and several list seats had been worn outin it besides the original one of rushes. She had never been reallylonely in the sixty-five years of her life for she had kept busy, andwas replete with old-fashioned methods that made work. She was veryparticular. Everything was scrubbed and scoured and swept and dusted andaired. The dishes were polished until they were lustrous. The knives andforks and spoons were speckless. There were napery and bedding that hadbeen laid by for her marriage outfit, and not all worn out yet, thoughin the early years she had kept replenishing for possible children. There was plenty for twenty years to come, and though her people hadbeen strong and healthy, they never went much over seventy. She was theyoungest, and all the rest were gone. Her few real nieces and nephewswere scattered about; she had made up her mind long ago she shouldn'tever have anyone hanging on her. 

No one wanted to. No one even leaned on her. Yet somehow the life hadnever seemed real solitary until now. She had comforted her years withthe thought that children were a great deal of trouble and did notalways turn out well. She could see the picture the little foreign girlmade as she folded her arms on Foster Leverett's knee. She wouldn't havethat mop of frowzly hair flying about, and she would like to fat her upa little--she was rather peaked. She had imagined her going about inthis old place, sewing, learning to work properly, reading and studying, and going to church every Sabbath. She had really meant to do somethingfor a human being day after day, not in a spasmodic fashion. And thiswas the end of it. 

She sprang up suddenly, lighted the candle again, went out to thekitchen to see that everything was right and there was no danger offire. She opened the outside door and glanced around. There was anautumnal chill in the air, but there were no mysterious shadows creepingabout in the yard below that might presage burglars. Then she bolted thedoor with a snap, and stood a moment in the middle of the floor. 

"You are an old fool, Priscilla Perkins! The idea of all Boston beingturned upside down for the sake of one little girl! People have comeover from England before, big and little, and there's been a war andthere may be another, and no end of things to happen. To be sure, I'ddone my duty by her if I'd had her; and if the others spoil her--I aintto blame, the Lord knows!"

CHAPTER IV

OUT TO TEA

"There! Does it look like Old Boston?"

They were winding around Copp's Hill. Warren had been given part of aday off, and the use of the chaise and Jack, to show the little cousinsomething of Boston before they went to Uncle Winthrop's to tea. 

Doris had her new coat, which was a sort of fawn color, and the closePuritan cap to keep her neck and ears warm. For earache was quite acommon complaint among children, and people were careful through thelong cold winter. A strip of beaver fur edged the front, and went aroundthe little cape at the back. Its soft grayish-brown framed in her fairface like a picture, and her eyes were almost the tint of the deep, unclouded blue sky. 

They had a fine view of Old Boston, but they could hardly dream of theBoston that was to be. There were still the three elevations of BeaconHill, lowered somewhat, to be sure, but not taken away entirely. Andthere was Fort Hill in the distance. 

"Why, it looks like a chain of islands, and instead of a great sea thewater runs round and round. At home the Witham comes down to the windingcove called The Wash. Boston is sort of set between two rivers, but itis fast of the mainland, and doesn't look so much like floating off. Youcan go over to the Norfolk shore, and you look out on the great NorthSea. But it isn't as big as the Atlantic Ocean. "

"Well, I should say not!" with disdain. "Why, you can look over toHolland!"

"You can't see Holland, but it's there, and Denmark. "

"And we shall have to be something like the Dutch, if ever we mean tohave a grand city. We shall have to dike and fill in and bridge. I havea great regard for those sturdy old Dutchmen and the way they fought theSpanish as well as the sea. "

Doris didn't know much about Holland, even if she could make pillow laceand read French verses with a charming accent. 

"That's the Mill Pond. And all that is the back part of the bay. Andover there a grand battle was fought--but you were not born before theRevolutionary War. "

"I guess you were not born yourself, Warren Leverett, " said Betty, withunnecessary vigor. 

"Well, I am rather glad I wasn't; I shall have the longer to live. Butgrandfather and ever so many relatives were, and father knows all aboutit. I am proud, too, of having been named for General Warren. "

"And down there near the bay is Fort Hill. Boston wasn't built on sevenhills like Rome, and though there are acres and acres of low ground, weare not likely to be overflowed, unless the Atlantic Ocean should riseand sweep us out of existence. And there is the old burying ground, fullof queer names and curious epitaphs. "

The long peninsula stretched out in a sort of irregular pear-shape, andthen was connected to another portion by a narrow neck. The littlevillages about had a rural aspect, and some of them were joined to themainland by bridges. And cows were still pastured on the commons and inseveral tracts of meadow land in the city. Many people had their ownmilk and made butter. There were large gardens at the sides of thehouses, many of them standing with the gable end to the street, andbuilt mostly of wood. But nearly all the leaves had fallen now, andthough the sun shone with a mellow softness, it was quite evident thereign of summer was ended. 

They drove slowly about, Warren rehearsing stories of this and thatplace, and wishing there was more time so they might go over toCharlestown. 

"But Doris is to stay, and there will be time enough next summer. It isconfusing to see so many places at once. And mother said we must be atUncle Win's about four, " declared Betty. 

It _was_ rather confusing to Doris, who had heard so little of Americanhistory in her quiet home. War seemed a dreadful thing to her, and shecould not take Warren's pride in battle and conquest. 

So they turned and went down through the winding streets. 

"Do you know why they are so crooked?" Warren asked. 

"No; why?" asked Doris innocently. 

"Well, William Blackstone's cows made the paths. He came here first ofall and had an allotment. Then when people began to come over fromCharlestown he sold out for thirty pounds English money. Grandfatherused to go over to the old orchard for apples. But think of Boston beingbought for thirty pounds!"

"It wasn't _this_ Boston with the houses and churches and everything. Come, do get along, or else let me drive, " said Betty. 

There was quite a descent as they came down. Streets seemed to stopsuddenly, and you had to make a curve to get into the next one. FromMain they turned into Fish Street, and here the wind from the harborswept across to the Mill Pond. 

"That's Long Wharf, and it has lots of famous stories connected with it. And just down there is father's. And now we could cut across and go overhome. "

"As if we meant to do any such foolish thing?" ejaculated Betty. 

"I said we _could_. There are a great many things possible that are notadvisable, " returned the oracular young man. "And I have heard thelongest way round was the surest way home. We shall reach there aboutnine o'clock to-night. "

"Like the old woman and her pig. I should laugh if we found motheralready at Uncle Win's. "

"She's going to wait for father, and something always happens to him. "

They crossed Market Square, and passed Faneuil Hall, that was to growmore famous as the years went on; then they took Cornhill and went overto Marlborough Street. 

"That's Fort Hill. It's lovely in summer, when the wind doesn't blow youto shreds. Now we will take Marlborough, and to-night you will besurprised to see how straight it is to Sudbury Street. "

They drove rapidly down, and made one turn. It was like a beautifulcountry road, over to Common Street, and there was the great tract ofground that would grow more beautiful with every decade. Tall, overarching trees; ways that were grassy a month ago, but now turningbrown. 

"Here we are, " and they turned up a driveway at the side of the longporch upheld with round columns. Betty sprang out on the stepping blockand half-lifted Doris, while Warren drove up to the barn. 

Uncle Winthrop came out to welcome them, and smiled down into the littlegirl's face. 

"But where is your mother?" he asked. 

"Oh, she had some shopping to do and then she was to meet father. Wehave been driving up around Copp's Hill and giving Doris a peep at thecountry. "

"The wind begins to blow up sharply, though it was very pleasant. I amglad to see you, little Doris, and I hope you have not grown homesicksighing for Old Boston. For if you should reach the threescore-and-ten, things will have changed so much that this will be old Boston; and, Betty, you will be telling-your grandchildren what it was like. "

Betty laughed gayly. 

There was the same wide hall as at home, but it wasn't the keeping-roomhere. It had a great fireplace, and at one side a big square sofa. Thefloor was inlaid with different-colored woods, following geometricdesigns, much like those of to-day. Before the fire was a rug ofgenerous dimensions, and a high-backed chair stood on each of thenearest corners. There was a bookcase with some busts ranged on the top;there were some portraits of ancestors in military attire, and womenwith enormous head-dresses; there was one in a Puritan cap, wide collar, and a long-sleeved gown, that quite spoiled the effect of her prettyhands. Over the mantel was a pair of very large deer's antlers. Down atone corner there were two swords crossed and some other firearms. Justunder them was a cabinet with glass doors that contained manycuriosities. 

A tall, thin woman entered from a door at the lower end of the hall andgreeted Betty with a quiet dignity that would have seemed cold, if ithad not been the usual manner of Recompense Gardiner, who could neverhave been effusive, and who took it for granted that anyone Mr. WinthropAdams invited to the house was welcome. Her forehead was high and rathernarrow, her brown hair was combed straight back and twisted in a littleknot high on her head, in which in the afternoon, or on companyoccasions, she wore a large shell comb. Her features were rather longand spare, and she wore plain little gold hoops in her ears because hereyes had been weak in youth and it was believed this strengthened them. Anyhow, she could see well enough at five-and-forty to detect a bit ofdust or dirt, or lint left on a plate from the towel, or a chair thatwas a trifle out of its rightful place. She was an excellenthousekeeper, and suited her master exactly. 

"This is the little English girl I was telling you about, Recompense--Cousin Charles' grandniece, and my ward, " announced Mr. Adams. 

"How do you do, child! Let me take off your hood and cloak. Why, sheisn't very stout or rosy. She might have been born here in the eastwind. And she is an Adams through and through. "

"Do you think so?" with an expression of pleasure, as Recompense heldher off and looked her over. 

"Are her eyes black?" rather disapprovingly. 

"No, the very darkest blue you can imagine, " said Mr. Adams. 

"Betty, run upstairs with these things. Your feet are younger than mine, and haven't done so much trotting round. Lay them on my bed. Why, where's your mother?" in a tone of surprise. 

Betty made the proper explanation and skipped lightly upstairs. 

Mr. Adams took one of the large chairs, drawing it closer to the fire. Recompense brought out a stool for the little girl. It was covered withthick crimson brocade, a good deal faded, but it had a warm, invitingaspect. Children were not expected to sit in chairs then, or to runabout and ask what everything was for. 

There had been children, little girls of different relatives, sitting atthe fireside before. His own small boy had dozed in the fascinatingwarmth of the fire and hated to go to bed, and he had weakly indulgedhim, as there had been no mother to exercise authority. But Doris wasdifferent. She was alone in the world, and had been sent to him by amysterious providence. He knew the responsibility of a girl must begreater. He couldn't send her to the Latin school and then to Harvard, and he really wondered how much education a girl ought to have to fither for the position Doris would be able to take. 

She was like a quaint picture sitting there. Betty had tied a cluster ofcurls high on her head with a blue ribbon, and just a few were left tocling about her neck over the lace tucker. Her slim hands lay in herlap. He glanced at his own--yes, they were Adams hands, and lookedlittle like hard work. He was rather proud that Recompense shoulddiscern a family likeness. 

Betty came flying down the oaken staircase, and Warren entered from theback door. For a few moments there was quite a confusion of tongues, andRecompense wondered how mothers stood it all the time. 

"How queer not to have anyone know about Boston, " began Warren with ateasing glance over at Doris. "We have been looking at it from Copp'sHill, and going through the odd places. "

"And I wondered if people came to be fed in White Bread Alley, "exclaimed Doris quickly. 

"And I dare say Warren didn't know. "

"Why, yes--a woman baked bread there. "

"Women have baked bread in a great many places, " returned Uncle Win, with a quizzical smile. 

"Oh, I didn't mean just that. "

"It was John Tudor's mother, " appended Betty. 

"Mrs. Tudor made the first penny rolls offered for sale in Boston, andlittle John, as he was then, took them around for sale. "

"And Mr. Benjamin Franklin didn't make them famous either, " laughedWarren. 

"And Salutation Alley with its queer sign--its two old men with cockedhats and small clothes, bowing to each other, " said Betty. "It alwayssuggests a couplet I found in an old book:

 "'O mortal man who lives by bread, What is it makes your nose so red? O mortal man with cheeks so pale, 'Tis drinking Levi Puncheon's ale!'"

"It is said the resolutions for the destruction of the tea were drawn upin the old tavern. It was famous for being the rendezvous of thepatriots. "

"It would be nice to drive all around Boston shore. "

"Let it be summer time, then, " rejoined Betty. "Or, like the Hollanders, we might do it on skates. Of course you do not know how to skate, Doris?"

Doris admitted with winsome frankness that she did not. But she couldride a pony, and she could row a little. 

"There are some delightful summer parties when we do go out rowing. Atleast, the boys row mostly, because

 "'Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do!'"

and Betty laughed. 

"And the girls always take their knitting, " appended Warren. "There'snever any mischief for them to get into. "

"I suppose it doesn't look much like Old Boston, " inquired MissRecompense. "And what do the little girls do there, my dear?"

Warren opened his eyes wide. The idea of Miss Recompense saying "mydear" to a child. 

It had slipped out in a curiously unpremeditated fashion. There wassomething about the little girl--perhaps it was the fact of her havingcome so far, and being an orphan--that moved Recompense Gardiner. 

"I didn't know any real little girls, " answered Doris modestly, "exceptthe farmer's children. They worked out of doors in the summer in thefields. "

"And I was the youngest of five sisters, " said Miss Recompense. "Therewere three boys. "

"It would be so nice to have a sister of one's very own. There wereSallie and Helen Jewett on the vessel. "

"I think I like the sisters to be older, " said Betty archly. "There arethe weddings and the nieces and nephews. And they are always begging youto visit them. "

"And I had no sisters, " said Uncle Win, as if he would fain consoleDoris for her loneliness. 

She glanced up with sympathetic sweetness. He was a little puzzled atthe intuitive process. 

"Fix up the fire, Warren. Your mother and father will be cold when theyget in. "

Warren gave the burned log a poke, and it fell in two ends, neitherdropping over the andirons. Then he pushed them a little nearer and ashower of sparks flew about. 

"Oh, how beautiful!" and Doris leaned over intently. 

Warren placed a large log back of them, then he piled on some smallersplit pieces. They began to blaze shortly. He picked up the turkey'swing and brushed around the stone hearth. 

"That was very well done, " remarked Miss Recompense approvingly. 

"Warren knows how to make a fire, " said his uncle, "and it is quite anart. "

"That is a sign he will make a good husband, " commented Betty. "And Ishall get a bad one, for my fires go out half the time. "

"You are too heedless, " said Miss Recompense. 

"Now, we ought to tell some ghost stories, " suggested Warren. "Or wecould wait until it gets a little darker. The sun is going down, and thefire is coming up, and just see how they are fighting at the SpanishArmada. Uncle Win, when you break up housekeeping you can leave me thatpicture. "

They all turned to look at the picture in the cross light, with one ofthe wonderful fleet ablaze from the broadside of her enemy. It was avigorous if somewhat crude painting by a Dutch artist. 

"Oh, Uncle Win, " cried Betty; "do you really think there will be warwhen we have a new President?"

"I sincerely hope not. "

"We ought to have an Armada. Well, I don't know either, " continuedWarren dubiously. "If it should go to pieces like that one, " nodding hishead over to the scene, growing more vivid by the reflection of the redlight in the west. "Doris, do you know what happened to the SpanishArmada?"

"Indeed I do, " returned Doris spiritedly. "I may not know so much aboutAmerica, except that you fought England, and were called rebelsand--and----"

"That we were the upper dog in the fight, and now we are citizens of agreat and free Republic and rebels no longer. "

"But the Spanish did not conquer England. Some of the ships weredestroyed by English men-of-war, and then a terrific storm wrecked them, and there were only a few to return to Spain. "

"Pretty good, " said Uncle Win smilingly. "And now, Warren, maybe you cantell about the French Armada that was going to destroy Boston. "

"Why, the French--came and helped us. Oh, there was the French andEnglish war, but did they have a real Armada?"

"Why, after Louisburg was taken by the colonists--we were only Coloniesin 1745. The French resolved to destroy all the towns the colonists hadplanted on the coast. You surely can't have forgotten?"

"The Revolution seems so much greater to this generation, " said MissRecompense. "That is almost seventy years ago. My father was called outfor the defense of Boston. Governor Shirley knew it would be the firsttown attacked. "

"And a real Armada!" said Warren, big-eyed. 

"They didn't call it that exactly. Perhaps they thought the nameunlucky. But there were twenty transports and thirty-four frigates andeleven ships of the line. Quite a formidable array, you must admit. TheDuc d'Anville left Brest with five battalions of veterans. "

"And then what happened? Warren, we do not know the history of our owncity, after all. But surely they did not take it?"

"No, it is safely anchored to a bit of mainland yet, " said Uncle Windryly. "Off Cape Sable they encountered a violent storm. The Ducsucceeded in reaching the rendezvous, but in such a damaged conditionthat he felt a victory would be impossible. Conflans with severalpartly disabled ships returned to France, and some steered for friendlyports in the West Indies. The Duc died in less than a week, of poison itwas said, unwilling to endure the misfortune. The Governor General ofCanada ordered the Vice Admiral to proceed and strike one blow at least. But he saw so many difficulties in the way, that he worried himself illwith a fever and put himself to death with his own sword. Boston was sowell prepared for them by this time, the fleet decided to attackAnnapolis, but encountering another furious storm they returned toFrance with the remnant. So Armadas do not seem to meet with brilliantsuccess. "

"Why, that is quite a romance, Uncle Win, and I must hunt it up. Curiousthat both should have shared so nearly the same fate. "

"That was a special interposition of Providence, " said Miss Recompense. 

People believed quite strongly in such things then, and it certainlylooked like it, since the storm was of no human agency. 

Miss Recompense began to light the candles, and the steps of the tardyones were heard on the porch. Betty sprang up and opened the door. 

"I began to think I never should get here, " exclaimed Mrs. Leverett. "Iwaited and waited for your father, and I thought something had surelyhappened. "

"And so it had. Captain Conklin is going to start for China in a fewdays, and there was so much to talk about I couldn't get away. "

"If I had been real sure he would have come on I would have started. Ithas blown off cold. Didn't you have a breezy ride? Were you warm enough, Doris?"

"It was splendid, " replied Doris, her eyes shining. "And I have seen somany things. "

"Now get good and warm and come out to supper. "

"If you call this cold I don't know what you will do at midwinter. "

"Well, it is chilly, and we are not used to it. But we must have ourIndian summer yet. "

Betty had been carrying away her mother's hat and shawl, and now UncleWin led the way to the dining room. The table was bountifully spread; itwas a sort of high tea, and in those days people ate with a heartyrelish and had not yet discovered the thousand dangers lurking in food. If it was good and well cooked no one asked any farther questions. Atleast, men did not. Women took recipes of this and that, and inventednew ways of preparing some dish with as much elation as some of thegreater discoveries have given. 

The men talked politics and the possibilities of war. There was anuneasy feeling all along the border, where Indian troubles were beingfomented. There were some unsettled questions between us and England. Abroad, Napoleon was making such strides that it seemed as if he mightconquer all Europe. 

Mrs. Leverett and Miss Recompense compared their successes in picklingand preserving, and discussed the high prices of dry goods and the newerscant skirts that would take so much less cloth and the improvement inhome-made goods. Carpets of the higher grades were beginning to bemanufactured in Philadelphia. 

Warren, with the appetite of a healthy young fellow, thought everythingtasted uncommonly good, and really had nothing to say. Doris watched oneand another, with soft dark eyes, and wondered if it would be right tolike Uncle Win any better than she did Uncle Leverett, and why she hadany desire to do so, which troubled her a little. Uncle Win _was_ thehandsomest. She liked the something about him that she came to knowafterward was culture and refinement. But she was a very loyal littlegirl, and Uncle Leverett had welcomed her so warmly, even on board thevessel. 

After supper they went into Uncle Winthrop's study a while. There weremore bookcases, and such a quantity of books and pamphlets and papers. There were busts of some of the old Roman orators and emperors, and morepaintings. There was a beautiful young woman with a head full of softcurls and two bands passed through them in Greek fashion. A scarf wasloosely wound around her shoulders, showing her white, shapely throat, and her short sleeves displayed almost perfect arms that looked likesculpture. Later Doris came to know this was Uncle Winthrop's sweetyoung wife, who died when her little boy was scarcely a year old. 

There were many curiosities. The walls were wainscoted in panels, withmoldings about them that looked like another frame for the pictures. Thechimney piece was of wood, and exquisitely carved. There was an oldescritoire that was both carved and gilded, and in the center of theroom a large round table strewn with books and writing materials. At thewindows were heavy red damask curtains, lined with yellow brocade. Theywere always put up the first of October and taken down punctually thefirst day of April. Uncle Win had a luxurious side to his nature, andthere was a soft imported rug in the room as well. 

Carpets were not in general use. Many floors were polished, some in thefiner houses inlaid. Rag carpets were used for warmth in winter, andsome were beautifully made. Weaving them was quite a business, andnumbers of women were experts at it. Sometimes it was in a hit-or-missstyle, the rags sewed just as one happened to pick them up. Then theywere made of the ribbon pattern, a broad stripe of black or dark, withnarrower and wider colors alternating. The rags were often colored toget pretty effects. 

It was a long walk home, but in those days, when there were neither carsnor cabs, people were used to walking, and the two men would not mindit. Betty could drive Jack by night or day, as he was a sure-footed, steady-going animal, and for a distance the road was straight up BeaconStreet. 

"Some day I will come up and take you out to see a little more of yournew home, " said Uncle Winthrop to Doris. "When does she go to school, Elizabeth?"

"Why, I thought it would be as well for her to begin next week. Fromeight to twelve. And she is so young there is no real need of herbeginning other things. Betty can teach her to sew and do embroidery. "

"There is her French. It would be a pity to drop that. "

"She might teach me French for the sake of the exercise, " returned Bettylaughingly when Uncle Win looked so perplexed. 

"To be sure. We will get it all settled presently. " He felt ratherhelpless where a girl was concerned, yet when he glanced down into hersoft, wistful eyes he wished somehow that she was living here. But itwould be lonely for a child. 

Warren brought Jack around and helped in the womenkind when they hadsaid all their good-nights, and Uncle Wrin added that he would be oversome evening next week to supper. 

It was a clear night, but there was no moon. Jack tossed up his head andtrotted along, with the common on one side of him. 

Boston had been improving very much in the last decade, and stretchingherself out a little. But it was quite country-like where Uncle Winlived. He liked the quiet and the old house, the great trees and hisgarden that gave him all kinds of vegetables and some choice fruit, though he never did anything more arduous than to superintend it andenjoy the fruits of Jonas Starr's labor. 

CHAPTER V

A MORNING AT SCHOOL

Our ancestors for some occult reason held early rising in high esteem. Why burning fire and candle light in the morning, when everything wascold and dreary, should look so much more virtuous and heroic thansitting up awhile at night when the house was warm and everythingpleasant, is one of the mysteries to be solved only by the firm beliefthat the easy, comfortable moments were the seasons especiallysusceptible to temptation, and that sacrifice and austerity were theguide-posts on the narrow way to right living. 

Mr. And Mrs. Leverett had been reared in that manner. They had softenedin many ways, and Betty was often told, "I had no such indulgences whenI was a girl. " But, mother-like, Mrs. Leverett "eased up" many thingsfor Betty. Electa King half envied them, and yet she confessed in hersecret heart that she had enjoyed her girlhood and her lover very much. She and Matthias King had been neighbors and played as children, went tochurch and to singing school together, and on visitors' night at thedebating society she was sure to be the visitor. Girls did not have justthat kind of boy friends now, she thought. 

The softening of religious prejudices was softening character as well. Yet the intensity of Puritanism had kindled a force of living that haddone a needed work. People really discussed religious problems nowadays, while even twenty years before it was simply belief or disbelief, andthe latter "was not to be suffered among you. "

Mrs. Leverett kept to her habit of early rising. True, dark and stormymornings Mr. Leverett allowed himself a little latitude, for very fewpeople came to buy his wares early in the morning. But breakfast was alittle after six, except on Sunday morning, when it dropped down toseven. 

And Mrs. Webb's school began at eight from the first day of February tothe first day of November. The intervening three months it was half-pasteight and continued to half-past twelve. 

Doris came home quite sober. "Well, " began Uncle Leverett, "how didschool go?"

"I didn't like it very much, " she answered slowly. 

"What did you do?"

"I read first. Four little girls and two boys read. We all stood in arow. "

"What then?"

"We spelled. But I did not know where the lesson was, and I think Mrs. Webb gave me easy words. "

"And you did not enjoy that?" Uncle Leverett gave a short laugh. 

"I was glad not to miss, " she replied gravely. 

"Mrs. Webb uses Dilworth's speller, " said Mrs. Leverett, "and so I gaveher Betty's. But she has a different reader. She thought Doris readuncommon well. "

"And what came next?"

"They said tables all together. Why do they call them tables?"

"Because a system of calculation would be too long a name, " he answereddryly. 

Doris looked perplexed. "Then there was geography. What a large placeAmerica is!" and she sighed. 

"Yes, the world is a good-sized planet, when you come to consider. AndAmerica is only one side of it. "

"I don't see how it keeps going round. "

"That must be viewed with the eye of faith, " commented Betty. 

"All that does very well. I am sorry you did not like it. "

"I did like all that, " returned Doris slowly. "But the sums troubledme. "

"She's very backward in figures, " said Mrs. Leverett. "Betty, you musttake her in hand. "

"I must study all the afternoon, " said Doris. 

"Oh, you'll soon get into the traces, " said Uncle Leverett consolingly. 

It was Monday and wash-day in every well-ordered family. Mrs. Leverettand Betty had the washing out early, but it was not a brisk drying day, so no ironing could be done in the afternoon. Betty changed her gown andbrought out her sewing, and Doris studied her lessons with greatearnestness. 

"I wish I was sure I knew the spelling, " she said wistfully. 

"Well, let me hear you. " Betty laid the book on the wide window sill andgave out the words between the stitches, and Doris spelled every onerightly but "perceive. "

"Those i's and e's used to bother me, " said Betty. "I made a list ofthem once and used to go over them until I could spell them in thedark. "

"Is it harder to spell in the dark?"

"Oh, you innocent!" laughed Betty. "That means you could spell themanywhere. "

Spelling had been rather a mysterious art, but Mr. Dilworth, and nowMr. Noah Webster, had been regulating it according to a system. 

"Now you might go over some tables. You can add and multiply so muchfaster when you know them. Suppose we try them together. "

That was very entertaining and, Doris began to think, not as difficultas she had imagined in the morning. 

"Betty, " said her mother, when there was a little lull, "what do yousuppose has become of Aunt Priscilla? I do hope she did not come overthe day we were at Cousin Winthrop's. But she never was here once lastweek. "

"There were two rainy days. "

"And she may be ill. I think you had better go down and see. "

"Yes. Don't you want to go, Doris? The walk will be quite fun. "

Doris could not resist the coaxing eyes, though she felt she ought tostay and study. But Betty promised to go over lessons with her when theycame back. So in a few moments they were ready for the change. Mrs. Leverett sent a piece of cake and some fresh eggs, quite a rarity now. 

The houses and shops seemed so close together, Doris thought. And theymet so many people. Doris had not lived directly in Old Boston town, butquite in the outskirts. And King Street was getting to be quite full ofbusiness. 

Black Polly came to the door. "Yes, missus was in but she had an awfulcold, and been all stopped up so that she could hardly get the breath oflife. "

Aunt Priscilla had a strip of red flannel pinned around her forehead, holding in place a piece of brown paper, moistened with vinegar, herunfailing remedy for headache. Another band was around her throat, andshe had a well-worn old shawl about her shoulders, while her feetrested on a box on which was placed a warm brick. 

"Is it possible you have come? Why, one might be dead and buried and noone the wiser. I crawled out to church on Sunday, and took more cold, though I have heard people say you wouldn't catch cold going to church. Religion ought to keep one warm, I s'pose. "

"I'm sorry. Mother was afraid you were ill. "

"And I have all the visiting to do. It does seem as if once in an agesome of you might come over. You went to Cousin Winthrop's!" in anaggrieved tone. 

"But mother had not been there since last summer, when 'Lecty was onmaking her visit. And we took all the family along, just as you can, " ina merry tone. "But if you like to have mother come and spend the day, I'll keep house. You see, there's always meals to get for father andWarren. "

"Yes, I kept house before you were born, Betty Leverett, and had a manwho needed three stout meals a day. But he want a mite of trouble. Inever see a man easier to suit than Hatfield Perkins. And I didn'tneglect him because he could be put off and find no fault. There are menin the world that it would take the grace of a saint to cook for, onlyin heaven among the saints if there aint any marryin' you can quite makeup your mind there isn't any cooking either. Well--can't you get achair? There's that little low one for Dorothy. "

"If you please, " began Doris, with quiet dignity, "my name is notDorothy. "

"Well, you ought to hear yourself called by a Christian name once in awhile. "

"Still it isn't a Scriptural name, " interposed Betty. "I looked over thelist to see. And here are some nice fresh eggs. Mother has had severalsplendid layers this fall. "

"I'm obliged, I'm sure. I do wish I could keep a few hens. But JonasField wants so much room, and there's my garden herbs. I've just beendosing on sage tea and honey, and it has about broke up my cough. Igenerally do take one cold in autumn, and then I go to March before Iget another. Well, I s'pose Recompense Gardiner stays at your uncle's?There was some talk I heard about some old fellow hanging round. AfterI'd lived so long single, I'd stay as I was. "

"I can't imagine Miss Recompense getting her wedding gown ready. Whatwould it be, I wonder?"

Betty laughed heartily. 

"She could buy the best in the market if she chose, " said Aunt Priscillasharply. "She must have a good bit of money laid by. Cousin Winthropwould be lost without her. Not but what there are as good housekeepersin the world as Recompense Gardiner. "

Then Aunt Priscilla had to stop and cough. Polly came in with someposset. 

"I'll have one of those eggs beaten up in some mulled cider, Polly, " shesaid. 

Doris glanced curiously at the old colored woman. She was tall and stillvery straight, and, though kept in strict subjection all her life, hadan air and bearing of dignity, as if she might have come from some royalrace. Her hair was snowy white, and the little braided tails hung belowher turban, which was of gay Madras, and the small shoulder shawl shewore was of red and black. 

"You're too old a woman to be fussed up in such gay things, " AuntPriscilla would exclaim severely every time she brought them home, forshe purchased Polly's attire. "But you've always worn them, and I reallydon't know as you'd look natural in suitable colors. "

"I like cheerful goin' things, that make you feel as if the Lord hadjust let out a summer day stead'er November. An', missus, you don't likea gray fire burned half to ashes, nuther. "

Truth to tell, Aunt Priscilla did hanker after a bit of gayety, thoughshe frowned on it to preserve a just balance with conscience. And no oneknew the parcels done up in an old oaken chest in the storeroom, thathad been indulged in at reprehensible moments. 

Just then there was a curious diversion to Doris. A beautiful sleektiger cat entered the room, and, walking up to the fire, turned andlooked at the child, waving his long tail majestically back and forth. He came nearer with his sleepy, translucent eyes studying her. 

"May I--touch him?" she asked hesitatingly. 

"Land, yes! That's Polly's Solomon. She talks to him till she's made himmost a witch, and she thinks he knows everything. "

Solomon settled the question by putting two snowy white paws on Doris'knee, and stretching up indefinitely with a dainty sniffing movement ofthe whiskers, as if he wanted to understand whether advances would befavorably received. 

There was a cat at the Leveretts', but it haunted the cellar, the shed, and the stable, and was hustled out of the kitchen with no ceremony. Aunt Elizabeth was not fond of cats, and cat hairs were her abomination. Doris had uttered an ejaculation of delight when she saw it one morning, a big black fellow with white feet and a white choker. 

"Don't touch him--he'll scratch you like as not!" exclaimed Mrs. Leverett in a quick tone. "Get out, Tom! We don't allow him in thehouse. He's a good mouser, but it spoils cats to nurse them. And I nevercould abide a cat around under my feet. "

Doris had made one other attempt to win Tom's favor as she was walkingabout the garden. But Tom eyed her askance and discreetly declined heroverture. There had always been cats at Miss Arabella's, and two greatdogs as well as her pony, and birds so tame they would fly down forcrumbs. 

"Oh, kitty!" She touched him with her dainty fingers. "Solomon. What afunny name! Oh, you beautiful great big cat!"

Solomon rubbed his head on her arm and began to purr. He was sure of awelcome. 

"You can't get in her lap, for it isn't big enough, " said AuntPriscilla. "Polly's got him spoiled out of all reason, though I s'pose acat's company when there's no one else. "

"If you would let me--sit on the rug, " ventured Doris timidly. She hadbeen rather precise of late in her new home. 

"Well, I declare! Sit on the floor if you want to. The floor was plentygood enough to sit on when I was a child. Me and my sisters had a cornerof our own, and we'd sit there and sew. "

Betty had been about to interpose, but at Aunt Priscilla's concessionDoris had slidden down and taken Solomon in her arms, and rubbed hersoft cheek against his head. Polly came in with the egg and cider. 

"Why, little missy, you just done charm him! He's mighty afeared of theboys around, and there aint no little gals. Do just see him, Mis'Perkins. He acts as if he was rollin' in a bed of sweet catnip. "

"One is about as wise as the other, " declared Aunt Priscilla, noddingher head. She was rather glad there was something in her house to be arival to Cousin Winthrop and the Leveretts, since Doris Adams was to beheld up on a high plane and spoiled with indulgence. She had not yetmade up her mind whether she would like the child or not. 

"Yes, she had started at Mrs. Webb's school. Uncle Win was going to makesome arrangement about her French and her writing when he came over. They'd had a letter from 'Lecty, and as the legislature was to meet inHartford there would be quite gay times, and she did so hope she couldgo. Mary wasn't very well, and wanted mother to come on for a week ortwo presently, " and Betty made big eyes at Aunt Priscilla, while thatlady nodded as well as her bundled up head would admit, to signify thatshe understood. 

"I'm sure you ought to know enough to keep house for your father andWarren, " was the comment. 

Then Betty said they must go, and Aunt Priscilla tartly rejoined thatthey might look in and see whether she was dead or alive. 

"Can I come and see Solomon again?" asked Doris. 

"Of course, since Solomon is head of the house. "

"Thank you, " returned Doris simply, not understanding the sarcasm. 

"Wonderful how Solomon liked little missy, " said Polly, straighteningthe chairs and restoring order. 

"My head aches with all the talking, " said Aunt Priscilla. "I want to bealone. "

But she felt a little conscience-smitten as Polly stepped about in thekitchen getting supper and sang in a thick, soft, but rather quiveringvoice, her favorite hymn:

 "'Hark, from the tombs a doleful sound, Mine ears, attend the cry. '"

Yes, Polly was a faithful old creature, only she had grown forgetful, and she was losing her strength, and black people gave out suddenly. Butthere, what was the use of borrowing trouble, and the idea of having achild around to train and stew over, and no doubt she would be gettingmarried just the time when she, Mrs. Perkins, would need her the most. The Lord hadn't seen fit to give her any children to comfort her oldage; after all, would she want a delicate little thing like this childwith a heathenish name!

It was quite chilly now, and Doris, holding Betty's hand tight, skippedalong merrily, her heart strangely warm and gay. 

"She's very queer, and her voice sounds as if she couldn't get the scoldout of it, doesn't it? And I felt afraid of the black woman first. Inever saw any until we were on the ship. But the beautiful cat!" with alingering emphasis on the adjective. 

"Well--cats are cats, " replied Betty sagely. "I don't care much aboutthem myself, though we should be overrun with rats and mice if it wasn'tfor them. I like a fine, big dog. "

"Oh, Betty!" and a girl caught her by the shoulder, turning her roundand laughing heartily at her surprise. 

"Why, Jane! How you startled me. "

"And is this your little foreign girl--French or something?"

"English, if you please, and her father was born here in Boston. Andisn't it queer that she should have lived in another Boston? And hername is Doris Adams. "

"I'm sure the Adams are sown thickly enough about, but Doris sounds likeverses. And, oh, Betty, I've been crazy to see you for two days. I am tohave a real party next week. I shall be seventeen, and there will bejust that number invited. The girls are to come in the afternoon andbring their sewing. There will be nine. And eight young men, "laughing--"boys that we know and have gone sledding with. They are tocome to tea at seven sharp. Cousin Morris is to bring his black fiddlerJoe, and we are going to dance, and play forfeits, and have just a grandtime. "

"But I don't know how to dance--much. "

Betty's highest accomplishments were in the three R's. Her manuscriptarithmetic was the pride of the family, but of grammar she candidlyconfessed she couldn't make beginning nor end. 

"I'm going to coax hard to go to dancing school this winter. Sam isgoing, and he says all the girls are learning to dance. Mother's cominground to-morrow. We want to be sure about the nine girls. Good-by, it'sgetting late. "

"Now, let's hurry home, " exclaimed Betty. 

The table was laid, and Mrs. Leverett said:

"Why didn't you stay all night?"

"Aunt Priscilla has her autumn cold. She was quite cross at first. Shewas sick last week, and went to church yesterday, and is worse to-day. But she was glad about the eggs. "

"There comes your father. Be spry now. "

After supper Warren went out to look after Jack. Mr. Leverett took hischair in the corner of the wide chimney and pushed out the stool for thelittle girl. She smiled as she sat down and laid her hands on his knee. 

"So you didn't like the school, " he began, after a long silence. 

"Yes--I liked--most of it, " rather reluctantly. 

"What was it you didn't like--sitting still?"

"No--not that. "

"The lessons? Were they too hard?"

"She said I needn't mind this morning. "

"But the figuring bothered you. "

"Of course I didn't know, " she said candidly. 

"You will get into it pretty soon. Betty'll train you. She's a masterhand at figures, smarter than Warren. "

Doris made no comment, but there was an unconfessed puzzle in her largeeyes. 

"Well, what is it?" The interest he took in her surprised himself. 

"She whipped a boy on his hands with a ruler very hard because hecouldn't remember his lesson. "

"That's a good aid to memory. I've seen it tried when I was a boy. "

"But if I had tried and tried and studied I should have thought it verycruel. "

"I guess he didn't try or study. What did Miss Arabella do to you whenyou were careless and forgot things? Or were you never bad?"

Doris hung her head, while a faint color mounted to her brow. 

"When I was naughty I couldn't go out on the pony nor take him a lump ofsugar. And he loved sugar so. And sometimes I had to study a psalm. "

"And weren't children ever whipped in your country?"

"The common people beat their children and their wives and their horsesand dogs. But Miss Arabella was a lady. She couldn't have beaten a cat. "

There was a switch on the top of the closet in the kitchen that beat Tomout of doors when he ventured in. Doris' tender heart rather resentedthis. 

Foster Leverett smiled at this distinction. 

"I do suppose people might get along, but boys are often very trying. "

"Don't grown-up people ever do anything wrong? And when they scolddreadfully aren't they out of temper? Miss Arabella thought it veryunladylike to get out of temper. And what is done to grown people?"

Uncle Leverett laughed and squeezed the soft little hands on his knee. Yes, men and women flew into a rage every day. Their strict training hadnot given them control of their tempers. It had not made them allhonest and truthful. Yet it might have been the best training for thetimes, for the heroic duties laid upon them. 

"She was very cross once, and her forehead all wrinkled up, and her eyeswere so--so hard; and when she is pleasant she has beautiful brown eyes. I like beautiful people. "

"We can't all be beautiful or good-tempered. "

"But Miss Arabella said we could, and that beauty meant sweetness andgrace and truth and kindliness, and that"--she lowered her voicemysteriously--"where one really tried to be good God gave them grace tohelp. I don't quite know about the grace, I'm so little. But I want tobe good. "

Was there a beautiful side to goodness? Foster Leverett had been forsome time weakening in the old faith. 

"Now I'm ready, " exclaimed Betty briskly. "We can say tables without anybook. "

Uncle Leverett laughed and squeezed the soft little stranger at hishearth. But affection was not demonstrative in those days, and it lookedrather weak in a man. 

They had grand fun saying addition and multiplication tables. They wentup to the fives, and Doris found that here was a wonderful bridge. 

"You could add clear up to a hundred without any trouble, " the childdeclared gleefully. "But you couldn't multiply. "

"Why, yes, " said Betty. "I had not exactly thought of it before. Fivetimes thirteen would be sixty-five, and so on. Five times twenty wouldbe a hundred. Why, we do it in a great many things, but I supposethey--whoever invented tables thought that was far enough to go. "

"Who did invent them?"

"I really don't know. Doris, we will ask Uncle Win when he comes over. He knows about everything. "

"It would take a great many years to learn everything, " said the childwith a sigh. 

"But the knowledge goes round, " said Betty with arch gayety. "One has alittle and the other a little and they exchange, and then women don'thave to know as much as men. "

"I'd like to see the man that knew enough to keep house, " declared Mrs. Leverett. "And didn't Mrs. Abigail Adams farm and bring up her childrenand pay off debts while her husband was at congress and war and abroad?It isn't so much book learning as good common sense. Just think what theold Revolutionary women did! And now it is high time Doris went to bed. Come, child, you're so sleepy in the morning. "

Doris had her dress unbuttoned and untied her shoes to make sure therewere no knots to pick out. Knots in shoe-strings were very perplexing atthis period when no one had dreamed of button boots. I doubt, indeed, ifanyone would have worn them. The shoes were made straight and changedevery morning, so as to wear evenly and not get walked over at the side. And people had pretty feet then, with arched insteps, and walked with anair of dignity. Some of the gouty old men had to be measured for atender place here or a protuberance there, or allowance made for badcorn. 

Doris said good-night and went upstairs. Miss Arabella had always kissedher. Betty did sometimes, and said "What a sweet little thing you are!"or "What a queer little thing you are!" She said her prayers, hung herclothes over a chair, put her little shoes just right for morning, andstepping on the chair round vaulted over to her side of the bed. 

What a long, long day it had been! The most beautiful thing in it wasthe big cat Solomon, and if she could nurse him she shouldn't be verymuch afraid of Aunt Priscilla. Oh, how soft his fur was, and how hepurred, just as if he was glad she had come! Perhaps he sometimes tiredof Aunt Priscilla and black Polly, and longed for a little girl whodidn't mind sitting on the floor, and who knew how to play. 

Then there was the spelling, and she tried to think over the hard words, and the tables, and her small brain kept up such a riot that she was nota bit sleepy. 

Betty brought out her work after lighting another candle. Mr. Leverettsat and dozed and thought. When Warren had finished up the chores hewent around to the other side of Betty's table, and was soon lost in ahistory of the French War. When the tall old clock struck nine it wastime to prepare for bed. 

Betty was putting up some wisps of hair in tea leads, when Doris sat up. 

"Oh, you midget! Are you not asleep yet?" she exclaimed. 

"No. I've been thinking of everything. And, Betty, can you go to theparty? I went to the May party when I was home, but that was out ofdoors, and we danced round the May pole. "

"The party----"

"Yes, did you ask Aunt Elizabeth?" eagerly. 

"Oh, no. I wasn't going to be caught that way. She would have had timeto think up ever so many excellent reasons why I shouldn't go. And nowMrs. Morse will take her by surprise, and she will not have any goodexcuse ready and so she will give in. "

"But wouldn't she want you to go?" Doris was rather confused by thereasoning. 

"I suppose she thinks I am young to begin with parties. But it isn't aregular grown-up affair. And I am just crazy to go. I'm so glad you didnot blurt it out, Doris. I'll give you a dozen kisses for being sosensible. Now lie down and go to sleep this minute. "

The child gave a soft little laugh, and a moment later Betty was"cuddling" her in her arms. 

The result of Foster Leverett's cogitation over the fire led him to saythe next morning to his son:

"Warren, you run on. I have a little errand to do. "

He turned in another direction and went down two squares. There was Mrs. Webb sweeping off her front porch and plank path. 

"Good-morning, " stopping and leaning on her broom as he halted. 

"I'm glad to see you, Mrs. Webb. I suppose the little girl wasn't muchtrouble yesterday. She's never been to school before. "

"Trouble! Bless you, no. If they were all as good as that I should feelfrightened, I really should, thinking they wouldn't live long. She's abit timid----"

"She's backward in some things--figures, for instance. And a littlestrange, I suppose. So if you would be kind of easy-going with her untilshe gets settled to the work----"

"Oh, you needn't be a mite afraid, Mr. Leverett. She's smart in somethings, but, you see, she's been run on different lines, and we'll getstraight presently. She's a nice obedient little thing, and I do like tosee children mind at the first bidding. "

"Your school is so near we thought we would try it this winter. Yes, Ithink all will go right. Good-morning, " and his heart lightened at thethought of smoothing the way for Doris. 

CHAPTER VI

A BIRTHDAY PARTY

Doris sat in the corner studying. Betty had gone over to Mme. Sheafe'sto make sure she had her lace stitch just right. They had been ironingand baking all the morning, and now Mrs. Leverett had attacked her pileof shirts, when Mrs. Morse came in. She had her work as well. Everybodytook work, for neighborly calls were an hour or two long. 

Doris had been presented first, a kind of attention paid to her becauseshe was from across the ocean. Everybody's health had been inquiredabout. 

"I came over on a real errand, " began Mrs. Morse presently. "And youmustn't make excuses. My Jane is going to have a little company weekfrom Thursday night. She will be seventeen, and we are going to haveseventeen young people. The girls will come in the afternoon, and theyoung men at seven to tea. Then they will have a little merrymaking. Andwe want Warren and Betty. We are going to ask those we want the mostfirst, and if so happen anything serious stands in the way, we'll takethe next row. "

"You're very kind, I'm sure. Warren does go out among young people, butI don't know about Betty. She's so young. "

"Well, she will have to start sometime. My mother was married atsixteen, but that is too young to begin life, though she never regrettedit, and she had a baker's dozen of children. "

"I'm not in any hurry about Betty. She is the last girl home. And theothers were past nineteen when they were married. "

"We feel there is no hurry about Jane. But I've had a happy life, andall six of us girls were married. Not an old maid among us. "

"Old maids do come in handy oftentimes, " subjoined Mrs. Leverett. 

Yet in those days every mother secretly, often openly, counted on hergirls being married. The single woman had no such meed of respect paidher as the "bachelor maids" of to-day. She often went out as housekeeperin a widower's family, and took him and his children for the sake ofhaving a home of her own. Still, there were some fine unmarried women. 

"Yes, they're handy in sickness and times when work presses, but they doget queer and opinionated from having their own way, I suppose. "

Alas! what would the single woman, snubbed on every side, have said tothat!

Then they branched into a chatty discussion about some neighbors, and asneither was an ill-natured woman, it was simply gossip and not scandal. Mrs. Morse had a new recipe for making soap that rendered it clearer andlighter than the old one and made better soap, she thought. Andto-morrow she was going at her best candles, so as to be sure they wouldbe hard and nice for the company. 

"But you haven't said about Betty?"

"I'll have to think it over, " was the rather cautious reply. 

"Elizabeth Leverett! I feel real hurt that you should hesitate, when ourchildren have grown up together!" exclaimed Mrs. Morse rather aggrieved. 

"It's only about putting Betty forward so much. Why, you know I don'tmind her running in and out. She's at your house twice as often as Janeis here. And when girls begin to go to parties there's no telling justwhere to draw the line. It's very good of you to ask her. Yes, I dosuppose she ought to go. The girls have been such friends. "

"Jane would feel dreadfully disappointed. She said: 'Now, mother, yourun over to the Leveretts' first of all, because I want to be sure ofBetty. '"

"Well--I'll have to say yes. Next Thursday. There's nothing to preventthat I know of. I suppose it isn't to be a grand dress affair, for Ihadn't counted on making Betty any real party gown this winter? I don'tbelieve she's done growing. Who else did you have in your mind, if itisn't a secret?"

"I'd trust it to you, anyhow. The two Stephens girls and Letty Rowe, Sally Prentiss and Agnes Green. That makes six, with Betty. We haven'tquite decided on the others. I dare say some of the girls will be mad ashornets at being left out, but there can be only nine. Of course we donot count Jane. "

These were all very nice girls of well-to-do families. Mrs. Leverett didfeel a little proud that Betty should head the list. 

"They are all to bring their sewing. I had half a mind to put on aquilt, but I knew there'd be a talk right away about Jane marrying, andshe has no steady company. I tell her she can't have until she iseighteen. "

"That's plenty young enough. I don't suppose there will be any dancing?"

"They've decided on proverbs and forfeits. Cousin Morris is coming roundto help the boys plan it out. Are you real set against dancing, Elizabeth?"

"Well--I'm afraid we are going on rather fast, and will get to be tootrifling. I can't seem to make up my mind just what is right. Fosterthinks we have been too strait-laced. "

"I danced when I was young, and I don't see as it hurt me any. And someof the best young people here-about are going to a dancing class thiswinter. Joseph has promised to join it, and his father said he was oldenough to decide for himself. "

Mrs. Morse had finished her sewing and folded it, quilting her needleback and forth, putting her thimble and spool of cotton inside andslipping it in her work bag. Then she rose and wrapped her shawl abouther and tied on her hood. 

"Then we may count on Warren and Betty? Give them my love and Jane's, and say we shall be happy to see them a week from Thursday, Betty atthree and Warren at seven. Come over soon, do. "

When she had closed the door on her friend Mrs. Leverett glanced over tothe corner where Doris sat with her book. She had half a mind to ask hernot to mention the call to Betty, then she shrank from anything sosmall. 

Doris studied and she sewed. Then Betty came in flushed and pretty. 

"I didn't have the stitch quite right, " she said to her mother. "And Ihave been telling her about Doris. She wants me to bring her over someafternoon. She is a little curious to see what kind of lace Doris makes. She has a pillow--I should call it a cushion. "

"Doris ought to learn plain sewing----"

"Poor little mite! How your cares will increase. Can I take her over toMme. Sheafe's some day?"

"If there is ever any time, " with a sigh. 

"Do you know your spelling?" She flew over to Doris and asked a questionwith her eyes, and Doris answered in the same fashion, though she had afancy that she ought not. Betty took her book and found that Doris knewall but two words. 

"If I could only do sums as easily, " she said, with a plaintive sound inher voice. 

"Oh, you will learn. You can't do everything in a moment, or youreducation would soon be finished. "

"What is Mme. Sheafe like?" she asked with some curiosity, thinking ofAunt Priscilla. 

"She is a very splendid, tall old lady. She ought to be a queen. And shewas quite rich at one time, but she isn't now, and she lives in a littleone-story cottage that is just like--well, full of curious and costlythings. And now she gives lessons in embroidery and lace work, andhemstitching and fine sewing, and she wears the most beautiful gowns andlaces and rings. "

"Your tongue runs like a mill race, Betty. "

"I think everybody in Boston is tall, " said Doris with quaintconsideration that made both mother and daughter laugh. 

"You see, there is plenty of room in the country to grow, " explainedBetty. 

"Can I do some sums?"

"Oh, yes. "

Plainly, figures were a delusion and a snare to little Doris Adams. Theywent astray so easily, they would not add up in the right amounts. Mrs. Webb did not like the children to count their fingers, though some ofthem were very expert about it. When the child got in among the sevens, eights, and nines she was wild with helplessness. 

Supper time came. This was Warren's evening for the debating society, which even then was a great entertainment for the young men. There wouldbe plenty of time to give them the invitation. Mrs. Leverett was sorryshe had consented to Betty's going, but it would have made ill friends. 

The next day Mrs. Hollis Leverett, the eldest son's wife, came up tospend the day, with her two younger children. Doris was not much used tobabies, but she liked the little girl. The husband came up after supperand took them home in a carryall. Doris was tired and sleepy, andcouldn't stop to do any sums. 

Betty was folding up her work, and Warren yawning over his book, whenMrs. Leverett began in a rather jerky manner:

"Mrs. Morse was in and invited you both to Jane's birthday party nextThursday night. "

"Yes, I saw Joe in the street to-day, and he told me, " replied Warren. 

"I said I'd see about you, Betty. You are quite too young to beginparty-going. "

"Why, I suppose it's just a girl's frolic, " said her father, wincingsuddenly. "They can't help having birthdays. Betty will be begging for aparty next. "

"She won't get it this year, " subjoined her mother dryly. "And, by thelooks of things, we have no money to throw away. "

Betty looked a little startled. She had wanted so to really questionDoris, but it did not seem quite the thing to do. And perhaps she wasnot to go, after all. She would coax her father and Warren, she would doalmost anything. 

Warren settled it as they were going up to bed. His mother was in thekitchen, mixing pancakes for breakfast, and he caught Betty's hand. 

"Of course you are to go, " he said. "Mother doesn't believe in dealingout all her good things at once. I wish you had something pretty towear. It's going to be quite fine. "

"Oh, dear, " sighed Betty. "Jane has such pretty gowns. But of course Ihave only been a little school-girl until this year, and somehow it isvery hard for the mothers to think their girls are grown-up in anyrespect except that of work. "

Warren sighed as well, and secretly wished he had a regular salary, andcould do what he liked with a little money. His father was training himto take charge of his own business later on. He gave him his board andclothing and half a dollar a week for spending money. When he wastwenty-one there would be a new basis, of course. There was not muchcall for money unless one was rich enough to be self-indulgent. Onecouldn't spend five cents for a trolley ride, even if there was adownpour of rain. And as Mr. Leverett had never smoked, he had routedthe first indications of any such indulgence on the part of his son. 

The amusements were still rather simple, neighborly affairs. The boysand girls "spent an evening" with each other and had hickory nuts, cider, and crullers that had found their way from Holland to Boston aswell as New York. And when winter set in fairly there was sledding andskating and no end of jest and laughter. Many a decorous love affairsprang into shy existence, taking a year or two for the young man to bebrave enough to "keep company, " if there were no objections on eitherside. And this often happened to be a walk home from church and anhour's sitting by the family fireside taking part in the generalconversation. 

To be sure, there was the theater. Since 1798, when the Federal StreetTheater had burned down and been rebuilt and opened with a rathercelebrated actress of that period, Mrs. Jones, theater-going was quitethe stylish amusement of the quality. Mr. Leverett and his wife had goneto the old establishment, as it was beginning to be called, to see thetragedy of "Gustavus Vasa, " that had set Boston in a furore. They werenever quite settled on the point of the sinfulness of the pleasure. Indeed, Mr. Leverett evinced symptoms of straying away from the oldlandmarks of faith. He had even gone to the preaching of thatreprehensible young man, Mr. Hosea Ballou, who had opened new worlds ofthought for his consideration. 

"It's a beautiful belief, " Mrs. Leverett admitted, "but whether you canquite square it with Bible truth----"

"I'm not so sure you can square the Westminster Catechism either. "

"If you must doubt, Foster, do be careful before the children. I'm notsure but the old-fashioned religion is best. It made good men andwomen. "

"Maybe if you had been brought up a Quaker you wouldn't have seen thereal goodness of it. Isn't belief largely a matter of habit andeducation? Mind, I don't say religion. That is really the man's life, his daily endeavor. "

"Well, we won't argue. " She felt that she could not, and was ashamedthat she was not more strongly fortified. "And do be careful before thechildren. "

Her husband was a good, honest, upright man--a steady churchgoer andzealous worker in many ways. The intangible change to liberalnesspuzzled her. If you gave up one point, would there not be a good reasonfor giving up another?

Neither could she quite explain why she should feel more anxious aboutBetty than she had felt about the girlhood of the two elder daughters. 

Of course Warren accepted the invitations for himself and his sister. Ifher new white frock was only done! She had outgrown her last summer'sgowns. There was a pretty embroidered India muslin that her sisterElecta had given her. If she might put a ruffle around the bottom of theskirt. 

Aunt Priscilla came over and had her cup of tea so she could get backbefore dark. She was still afraid of the damp night air. Aunt Priscillahad a trunk full of pretty things she had worn in her early marriedlife. If she, Betty, could be allowed to "rummage" through it!

Saturday was magnificent with a summer softness in the air, and thedoors could be left open. There were sweeping and scrubbing and scouringand baking. Doris was very anxious to help, and was allowed to seed someraisins. It wasn't hard, but "putterin'" work, and took a good deal oftime. 

But after dinner Uncle Winthrop came in his chaise with his prettyspirited black mare Juno. It was such a nice day, and he had to go up tothe North End on some business. There wouldn't be many such days, andDoris might like a ride. 

There was a flash of delight in the child's eyes. Betty went to help herget ready. 

"You had better put on her coat, for it's cooler riding, " said Mrs. Leverett. "And by night it may turn off cold. A fall day like this ishardly to be trusted. "

"But it is good while it lasts, " said Uncle Win, with his softhalf-smile. "Elizabeth, don't pattern after Aunt Priscilla, who can'tenjoy to-day because there may be a storm to-morrow. "

"I don't know but we are too ready to cross bridges before we come tothem, " she admitted. 

"A beautiful day goes to my inmost heart. I want to enjoy every momentof it. "

Doris came in with her eager eyes aglow, and Betty followed her to thechaise, and said:

"Don't run away with her, Uncle Win; I can't spare her. "

That made Doris look up and laugh, she was so happy. 

They drove around into Hanover Street and then through Wing's Lane. There were some very nice lanes and alleys then that felt quite asdignified as the streets, and were oftentimes prettier. He was going toDock Square to get a little business errand off his mind. 

"You won't be afraid to sit here alone? I will fasten Juno securely. "

"Oh, no, " she replied, and she amused herself glancing about. Peoplewere mostly through with their business Saturday afternoon. It had astrange aspect to her, however--it was so different from the town acrossthe seas. Some of the streets were so narrow she wondered how the horsesand wagons made their way, and was amazed that they did not run over thepedestrians, who seemed to choose the middle of the street as well. Manyof the houses had a second story overhanging the first, which made thestreets look still narrower. 

"Now we will go around and see the queer old things, " exclaimed UncleWin, as he jumped into the chaise. "For we have some interesting pointsof view. A hundred years seems a good while to us new people. Andalready streets are changing, houses are being torn down. There are somecurious things you will like to remember. Did Warren tell you about PaulRevere?"

"Oh, yes. How he hung the lantern out of the church steeple. "

"And this was where he started from. More than thirty years ago thatwas, and I was a young fellow just arrived at man's estate. Still it wasa splendid time to live through. We will have some talks about it in theyears to come. "

"Did you fight, Uncle Win?"

"I am not much of a war hero, though we were used for the defense ofBoston. You are too young to understand all the struggle. "

Doris studied the old house. It was three stories, the upper windowsseeming just under the roof. On the ground floor there was a store, with two large windows, where Paul Revere had carried on his trade ofsilver-smith and engraver on copper. There was a broken wire nettingbefore one window, and quite an elaborate hallway for the privateentrance, as many people lived over their shops. 

Long afterward Doris Adams was to be interested in a poet who told thestory of Paul Revere's ride in such vivid, thrilling words that he wasplaced in the list of heroes that the world can never forget. But it hadnot seemed such a great deed then. 

Old North Square had many curious memories. It had been a very desirableplace of residence, though it was dropping down even now. There werequaint warehouses and oddly constructed shops, taverns with queer namesalmost washed out of the signs by the storms of many winters. There werethe "Red Lion" and the "King's Arms" and other names that smacked ofLondon and had not been overturned in the Revolution. Here had stood theold Second Church that General Howe had caused to be pulled down forfirewood during the siege of Boston, the spot rendered sacred by thesermon of many a celebrated Mather. And here had resided Governor ThomasHutchinson, who would have been sacrificed to the fury of the mob forhis Tory proclivities during the Stamp Act riot but for hisbrother-in-law, the Rev. Samuel Mather, who faced the mob and told them"he should protect the Governor with his life, even if their sentimentswere totally dissimilar. " And when he came to open court the nextmorning he had neither gown nor wig, very important articles in thatday. For the wigs had long curling hair, and those who wore them hadtheir hair cropped close, like malefactors. 

And here was the still stately Frankland House, whose romance was tointerest Doris deeply a few years hence and to be a theme for poet andnovelist. But now she was a good deal amused when her uncle told her ofa Captain Kemble in the days of Puritan rule who, after a long seavoyage, was hurrying up the Square, when his wife, who had heard thevessel was sighted, started to go to the landing. As they met thecaptain took her in his arms and kissed her, and was punished forbreaking the Sabbath day by being put in the stocks. 

"But did they think it so very wrong?" Her face grew suddenly grave. 

"I suppose they did. They had some queer ideas in those days. Theythought all exhibitions of affection out of place. "

Doris looked thoughtfully out to the harbor. Perhaps that was the reasonno one but Betty kissed her. 

Then they drove around to the Green Dragon. This had been a famous inn, where, in the early days, the patriots came to plan and confer and laytheir far-reaching schemes. It was said they went from here to thefamous Tea Party. Uncle Winthrop repeated an amusing rhyme:

 "'Rally, Mohocks, bring out your axes, And tell King George we'll pay no taxes On his foreign tea. His threats are vain, he need not think To force our wives and girls to drink, His vile Bohea. '"

"I shouldn't like to be forced to drink it, " said Doris, with a touch ofrepugnance in her small face. 

"It does better when people get old and queer, " said Uncle Winthrop. "Then they want some comfort. They smoke--at least, the men do--anddrink tea. Now you can see the veritable Green Dragon. "

The house was low, with small, old-time dormer windows. The dragon hungout over the doorway. He was made of copper painted green, his two hindfeet resting on a bar that swung out of the house, his wings spread outas well as his front feet, and he looked as if he really could fly. Outof his mouth darted a red tongue. 

"He is dreadful!" exclaimed Doris. 

"Oh, he doesn't look as fierce now as I have seen him. A coat of paintinspires him with new courage. "

"Then I am glad they have not painted him up lately. Uncle Win, is thereany such thing as a real dragon? Of course I've read about St. Georgeand the dragon, " and she raised her eyes with a perplexed light in them. 

"I think we shall have to relegate dragons to the mythical period, orthe early ages. I have never seen one any nearer than that old fellow, or with any more life in him. There are many queer signs about, andqueer corners, but I think now we will go over to Salem Street and lookat some of the pretty old houses, and then along the Mill Pond. Warrentook you up Copp's Hill?"

"Oh, yes. "

"You see, you must know all about Boston. It will take a long while. Next summer we will have drives around here and there. "

"Oh, that will be delightful!" and she smiled with such a sweet gracethat he began to count on it himself. 

The sun was going over westward in a soft haze that wrapped everyleafless tree and seemed to caress the swaying vines into new life. Thehoneysuckles had not dropped all their leaves, and the evergreens weretaking on their winter tint. On some of the wide lawns groups ofchildren were playing, and their voices rang out full of mirth andmerriment. Doris half wished she were with them. If Betty was onlytwelve instead of sixteen!

The Mill Pond seemed like a great bay. The placid water (there was nowind to ruffle it) threw up marvelous reflections and glints of colorsfrom the sky above, and the sun beyond that was now a globe of softenedflame, raying out lance-like shapes of greater distinctness and thenmelting away to assume some new form or color. 

Doris glanced up at Uncle Winthrop. It was as if she felt it all toodeeply for any words. He liked the silence and the wordless enjoyment inher face. 

"We won't go home just yet, " he said. They were crossing Cold Lane andcould have gone down Sudbury Street. "It is early and we will go alongGreen Lane and then down to Cambridge Street. You are not tired?"

"Oh, no. I think I never should be tired with you, Uncle Winthrop, " shereturned with grave sweetness, quite unconscious of the delicatecompliment implied. 

What was there about this little girl that went so to his heart?

"Uncle Winthrop, " she began presently, while a soft pink flush crept upto the edge of her hair, "I heard you and Uncle Leverett talking aboutsome money the first night you were over--wasn't it _my_ money?"

"Yes, I think so, " with a little dryness in his tone. What made herthink about money just now, and with that almost ethereal face!

"Is it any that I could have--just a little of it?" hesitatingly. 

"Why? Haven't you all the things you want?"

"I? Oh, yes. I shouldn't know what to wish for unless it was someone totalk French with, " and there was a sweet sort of wistfulness in hertone. 

"I think I can supply that want. Why we might have been talking Frenchhalf the afternoon. Do you want some French books? Is that it?"

"No, sir. " There was a lingering inflection in her tone that missedsatisfaction. 

"Are you not happy at Cousin Leverett's?"

"Happy? Oh, yes. " She glanced up in a little surprise. "But the moneywould be to make someone else happy. "

"Ah!" He nodded encouragingly. 

"Betty is going to a party. "

"And she has been teasing her mother for some finery?"

"She hasn't any pretty gown. I thought this all up myself, Uncle Win. Miss Arabella has such quantities of pretty clothes, and they are beingsaved up for me. If she was here I should ask her, but I couldn't getit, you know, by Thursday. "

She gave a soft laugh at the impossibility, as if it was quiteridiculous. 

"And you want it for her?"

"She's so good to me, Uncle Win. For although I know some things quitewell, there are others in which I am very stupid. A little girl inschool said yesterday that I was 'dreadful dumb, dumber than a goose. 'Aunt Elizabeth said a goose was so dumb that if it came in the gardenthrough a hole in the fence it never could find it again to get out. "

"That is about the truth, " laughed Uncle Win. 

"I couldn't get along in arithmetic if it wasn't for Betty. She's sokind and tells me over and over again. And I can't do anything for AuntElizabeth, because I don't know how, and it takes most of my time tostudy. But if I could give Betty a gown--Miss Arabella went to so manyparties when she was young. If I was there I know she would consent togive Betty _one_ gown. "

Uncle Winthrop thought of a trunk full of pretty gowns that had beenlying away many a long year. He couldn't offer any of those to Betty. And that wouldn't be a gift from Doris. 

"I wonder what would be nice? An old fellow like me would not know abouta party gown. "

"Warren would. He and Betty talked a little about it last night. Andthat made me think--but it didn't come into my mind until a few momentsago that maybe there would be enough of my own money to buy one. "

Doris glanced at him with such wistful entreaty that he felt he couldnot have denied her a much greater thing. He remembered, too, thatElizabeth Leverett had refused to take any compensation for Doris, thiswinter at least, and he had been thinking how to make some return. 

"Yes, I will see Warren. And we will surprise Betty. But perhaps hermother would be a better judge. "

"I think Aunt Elizabeth doesn't quite want Betty to go, although shetold Mrs. Morse she should. "

"Oh, it's at the Morses'? Well, they are very nice people. And youngfolks do go to parties. Yes, we will see about the gown. "

"Uncle Winthrop, you are like the uncles in fairy stories. I had such abeautiful fairy book at home, but it must have been mislaid. "

She put her white-mittened hand over his driving glove, but he felt thesoft pressure with a curious thrill. 

They went through Cambridge Street and Hilier's Lane and there they wereat home. 

"It has been lovely, " she said with a happy sigh as he lifted her out. Then she reached up from the stepping-stone and kissed him. 

"It isn't Sunday, " she said naïvely, "and it is because you are so goodto me. And this isn't North Square. "

He laughed and gave her a squeeze. Cousin Elizabeth came out and wishedhim a pleasant good-night as he drove away. 

What a charming little child she was, so quaintly sensible, and with asimplicity and innocence that went to one's heart. How would RecompenseGardiner regard a little girl like that? He would have her over sometimefor a day and they would chatter in French. Perhaps he had better brushup his French a little. Then he smiled, remembering she had calledherself stupid, and he was indignant that anyone should pronounce herdumb. 

CHAPTER VII

ABOUT A GOWN

Saturday evening was already quiet at the Leveretts'. Elizabeth had beenbrought up to regard it as the beginning of the Sabbath instead of theend of the week. People were rather shocked then when you said Sunday, and quite forgot the beautiful significance of the Lord's Day. AuntPriscilla still believed in the words of the Creation: that the eveningand the morning were the first day. In Elizabeth's early married lifeshe had kept it rigorously. All secular employments had been put by, andthe children had studied and recited the catechism. But as they changedinto men and women other things came between. Then Mr. Leverett grew"lax" and strayed off--after other gods, she thought at first. 

He softened noticeably. He had a pitiful side for the poor and all thosein trouble. Elizabeth declared he used no judgment or discrimination. 

He opened the old Bible and put his finger on a verse: "While we havetime let us do good unto all men; and especially unto them that are ofthe household of faith. "

"You see, " he said gravely, "the household of faith isn't put first, itis 'all men. '"

She was reading the Bible, not as a duty but a delight, skipping aboutfor the sweetness of it. And she found many things that her duty readinghad overlooked. 

The children did not repeat the catechism any more. She had beenconsidering whether it was best to set Doris at it; but Doris knew herown catechism, and Cousin Winthrop was a Churchman, so perhaps it wasn'twise to meddle. She took Doris to church with her. 

Now, on Saturday evening work was put away. Warren was trying to read"Paradise Lost. " He had parsed out of it at school. Now and then hedropped into the very heart of things, but he had not a poeticaltemperament. His father enjoyed it very much, and was quite a reader ofMilton's prose works. Betty had strayed off into history. Doris satbeside Uncle Leverett with her arms on his knee, and looked into thefire. What were they doing back in Old Boston? Aunt Elizabeth hadalready condemned the fairy stories as untrue, and therefore falsehoods, so Doris never mentioned them. The child, with her many changes andgentle nature, had developed a certain tact or adaptiveness, and lovedpleasantness. She was just a little afraid of Aunt Elizabeth'ssharpness. It was like a biting wind. She always made comparisons in hermind, and saw things in pictured significance. 

It ran over many things now. The old house that had been patched andpatched, and had one corner propped up from outside. The barn that waspropped up all around and had a thatched roof that suggested an immensehaystack. Old Barby crooning songs by the kitchen fire, sweet old MissArabella with her great high cap and her snowy little curls. Why didAunt Priscilla think curls wrong? She had a feeling Aunt Elizabeth didnot quite approve of hers, but Betty said the Lord curled them in thebeginning. How sweet Miss Arabella must have been in her youth--yes, shemust surely have been young--when she wore the pretty frocks and went tothe king's palace! She always thought of her when she came to the versesin the Psalms about the king's daughters and their beautiful attire. IfBetty could have had one of those!

Her heart beat with unwonted joy as she remembered how readily UncleWinthrop had consented to her wish. Oh, if the frock would be pretty!And if Betty would like it! She stole a glance or two at her. How queerto have a secret from Betty that concerned her so much. Of course peopledid not talk about clothes on Sunday, so there would be no temptation totell, even if she had a desire, which she should not have. Mondaymorning everything would be in a hurry, for it was wash-day, and shewould have to go over her lessons. Uncle Win said the gown would be atthe house Monday noon. 

"What are you thinking of, little one?"

Uncle Leverett put his hand over the small one and looked down at theface, which grew scarlet--or was it the warmth of the fire?

She laughed with a sudden embarrassment. 

"I've been to Old Boston, " she said, "and to new Boston. And I have seensuch sights of things. "

"You had better go to bed. And you have almost burned up your facesitting so close by the fire. It is bad for the eyes, too, " said AuntElizabeth. 

She rose with ready obedience. 

"I think I'll go too, " said Betty with a yawn. The history of theReformation was dull and prosy. 

When Doris had said her prayers, and was climbing into bed, Betty kissedher good-night. 

"I'm awfully afraid Uncle Win will want you some day, " she said. "And Ijust couldn't let you go. I wish you were my little sister. "

There was a service in the morning and the afternoon on Sunday. UncleLeverett accompanied them in the morning. He generally went out in theevening, and often some neighbor came in. It was quite a social time. 

When Doris came home from school Monday noon Aunt Elizabeth handed her apackage addressed to "Miss Doris Adams, from Mr. Winthrop Adams. "

"It is a new frock, I know, " cried Betty laughingly. "And it is verychoice. I can tell by the way it is wrapped. Open it quick! I'm on pinsand needles. "

"It is a nice cord; don't cut it, " interposed Aunt Elizabeth. 

Betty picked out the knot. There was another wrapper inside, and thishad on it "Miss Betty Leverett. From her little cousin, Doris Adams. "

Mr. Leverett came at Betty's exclamation and looked over her shoulder. 

"Are you sure it is for me? Here is a note from Uncle Win that is foryou. Oh! oh! Doris, was this what you did Saturday?"

A soft shimmering China silk slipped out of its folds and trailed on thefloor. It was a lovely rather dullish blue, such as you see in oldchina, and sprays of flowers were outlined in white. Betty stoodtransfixed, and just glanced from one to the other. 

"Oh, do you like it?" cried Warren, impatient for the verdict. "UncleWin asked me to go out and do an errand with him. I was clear amazed. But it's Doris' gift, and bought out of her own money. We looked overever so many things. He said you wanted something young, not agrandmother gown. And we both settled upon this. "

Betty let it fall and clasped Doris in her arms. 

"Down on the dirty floor as if it was nothing worth while!" began Mrs. Leverett, while her husband picked up the slippery stuff and let it fallagain until she took it out of his hands. "And do come to dinner!There's a potpie made of the cold meat, and it will all be coldtogether, for I took it up ever so long ago. And, Betty, you haven't puton any pickles. And get that quince sauce. "

"I don't know what to say. " There were tears in Betty's eyes as sheglanced at Doris. 

"Well, you can have all winter to say it in, " rejoined her mothertartly. "And your father won't want to spend all winter waiting for hisdinner. "

They had finished their washing early. By a little after ten everythingwas on the line, and now the mornings had grown shorter, although youcould piece them out with candlelight. Betty had suggested the cold meatshould be made into a potpie, and now Mrs. Leverett half wished she hadkept to the usual wash-day dinner--cold meat and warmed-over vegetables. She felt undeniably cross. She had not cordially acquiesced in Betty'sgoing to the party. The best gown she had to wear was her gray cloth, new in the spring. It had been let down in the skirt and trimmed withsome wine-colored bands Aunt Priscilla had brought her. It would be agood discipline for Betty to wear it. When she saw the other young girlsin gayer attire, she would be mortified if she had any pride. Just whereproper pride began and improper pride ended she was not quite clear. Anyhow, it would check Betty's party-going this winter. And now all thenice-laid plans had come to grief. 

Doris stood still, feeling there was something not quite harmonious inthe atmosphere. 

"You were just royal to think of it, " said Warren, clasping both armsaround Doris. "Uncle Win told me about it. And I hope you like ourchoice. Betty had a blue and white cambric, I think they called it, lastsummer, and she looked so nice in it, but it didn't wash well. Silkdoesn't have to be washed. Oh, you haven't read your letter. "

Uncle Leverett had been folding and rolling the silk and laid it on achair. The dinner came in just as Doris had read two or three lines ofher note. 

"Aunt Elizabeth, "--when there was a little lull, --"Uncle Winthrop sayshe will come up to supper to-night. "

"He seems very devoted, suddenly. "

"Well, why shouldn't he be devoted to the little stranger in his charge, if she isn't exactly within his gates? She is in ours. "

A flush crept up in Elizabeth Leverett's face. She did not look atDoris, but she felt the child's eyes were upon her--wondering eyes, asking the meaning of this unusual mood. It was unreasonable as well. Elizabeth had a kindly heart, and she knew she was doing not onlyherself but Doris an injustice. She checked her rising displeasure. 

"I should have enjoyed seeing you and Uncle Win shopping, " she saidrather jocosely to Warren. 

Betty glanced up at that. The sky was clearing and the storm blowingover. But, oh, she had her pretty gown, come what might!

"I don't believe but what I would have been a better judge than eitherof them, " said Uncle Leverett. 

"Uncle Win wasn't really any judge at all, " rejoined Warren laughingly. "He would have chosen the very best there was, fine enough for awedding gown. But I knew Betty liked blue, and that girls wantedsomething soft and delicate. "

"You couldn't have suited me any better, " acknowledged Betty, giving thechair that held her treasure an admiring glance. "I shall have to studyall the afternoon to know what to say to Uncle Win. As for Doris----"

Doris was smiling now. If they were all pleased, that was enough. 

"I hope Uncle Win won't let you spend your money this way very often, "said Uncle Leverett, "or you will have nothing left to buy silk gownsfor yourself when you are a young woman. "

"Maybe no one will ever ask me to a party, " said Doris simply. 

"I will give one in your honor, " declared Warren. "Let me see--in sevenyears you will be sixteen. I will save up a little money every yearafter I get my freedom suit. "

"Your freedom suit?" in a perplexed manner. 

"Yes--when I am twenty-one. That will be next July. "

"You will have to buy her a silk gown as well, " said his father with atwinkle of humor in his eye. 

"Then I shall strike for higher wages. "

"We shall have a new President and we will see what that brings about. The present method is simply ruinous. "

The dinner was uncommonly good, if it had been made of cooked-over meat. And the pie was delicious. Any woman who could make a pie like that, andhave the custard a perfect cream, ought to be the happiest woman alive. 

Mr. Leverett followed his wife out in the kitchen, and gave the door apush with his foot. But the three young people were so enthusiasticabout the new gown, now that the restraint was removed, that they couldnot have listened. 

"Mother, " he began, "don't spoil the little girl's good time and herpleasure in the gift. "

"Betty did not need a silk gown. The other girls didn't have one untilthey were married. If I had considered it proper, I should have boughtit myself. "

"But Winthrop hadn't the heart to refuse Doris. "

"If he means to indulge every whim and fancy she'll spend everything shehas before she is fairly grown. She's too young to understand and shehas been brought up so far in an irresponsible fashion. Generosity issometimes foolishness. "

"You wouldn't catch Hollis' little boy spending his money on anyone, "and Sam's grandfather laughed. Sam was bright and shrewd, smart at hisbooks and good at a barter. He had a little money out at interestalready. Mr. Leverett had put it in the business, and every six monthsSam collected his interest on the mark. 

"Winthrop isn't as slack as you sometimes think. He could calculatecompound interest to a fraction. "

"I'm glad someone has a little forethought, " was the rather tart reply. 

"Winthrop isn't as slack as you sometimes think. He doesn't likebusiness, but he has a good head for it. And he will look out for Doris. He is mightily interested in her too. But if you must scold anyone, saveit for him to-night, and let Doris be happy in her gift. "

"Am I such a scold?"

"You are my dear helpmeet. " He put his arm over her shoulder and kissedher. People were not very demonstrative in those days, and theiraffection spoke oftener in deeds than words. In fact, they thought thewords betrayed a strand of weakness. "There, I must be off, " he added. "Come, Warren, " opening the door. "Meade will think we have had a turkeydinner and stayed to polish the bones. "

Betty had been trying the effect of trailing silk and enjoying herbrother's admiration. Now she folded it again decorously, and began topile up the cups and plates, half afraid to venture into the kitchenlest her dream of delight should be overshadowed by a cloud. 

Mrs. Leverett was doing a sober bit of thinking. How much happinessought one to allow one's self in this vale of tears? Something she hadread last night recurred to her--"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto theleast of these----" Done what? Fed bodies and warmed and clothed them. And what of the hungry longing soul? All her life she had had a goodtender husband. And now, when he had strayed from the faith a little, heseemed dearer and nearer than ever before. God had given her a greatdeal to be thankful for. Five fine children who had never strayed out ofthe paths of rectitude. Of course, she had always given the credit totheir "bringing up. " And here was a little girl reared quitedifferently, sweet, wholesome, generous, painstaking, and grateful forevery little favor. 

Astute Betty sent Doris in as an advance guard. 

"You may take the dish of spoons, and I'll follow with the cups andsaucers. "

Aunt Elizabeth looked up and half smiled. 

"You and Uncle Win have been very foolish, " she began, but her tone wassoft, as if she did not wholly believe what she was saying. "I shallsave my scolding for him, and I think Betty will have to train you infigures all winter long to half repay for such a beautiful gift. "

"Oh, Aunt Elizabeth, I _thought_ of it, you know, " she cried in sweeteagerness, "and if there is anything wrong----"

"There isn't anything wrong, dear. " Mrs. Leverett stooped and kissedher. "I don't know as Betty needed a silk gown, for many a girl doesn'thave one until she is married. I shall have to keep a sharp eye on youand Uncle Win hereafter. "

Betty went back and forth. The dishes were washed and the kitchen set torights, while the bits of talk flowed pleasantly. 

"I think I will iron this afternoon, " announced Betty. "I see some ofthe clothes are dry. Didn't you mean to go and see about the carpet, mother?"

"I had thought of it. I want to have my warp dyed blue and orange, andsome of the rags colored. Mrs. Jett does it so well, and she's so needyI thought I would give her all the work. Your father said I had better. And she might dip over that brown frock of yours. The piece of new cango with it so it will all be alike. "

Betty wanted to lift up her heart in thanksgiving. The dyeing tub washer utter abomination--it took so long for the stain to wear out of yourhands. 

"Well--if you like. " This referred to the ironing. "I don't know howyou'll get your gown done. "

"I might run over and get some patterns from Jane, if I get through intime, " suggested Betty. For a horrible fear had entered her mind thather mother's acceptance of the fact foreboded some delay in the making. 

"Don't go until I get back. "

"Oh, no. "

Betty took down the clothes and folded them. They were just right toiron. She arranged her table, and Doris brought her books and sat at oneend. 

"It would be so much nicer to talk about the party, " she said gravely, "but the lessons are so hard. Oh, Betty, do you think I shall ever besmart like other girls? I feel ashamed sometimes. My figures are justdreadful. Robert Lane said this morning they looked like hen tracks. Hisare beautiful. And he is only seven years old. Oh, dear!"

"Robbie has been at school three years. Wait until you have been ayear!"

"And writing. Oh, Betty, when will I be able to write a letter to MissArabella? Now, if you could talk across the ocean!"

"The idea! One would have to scream pretty loud, and then it wouldn't goa mile. " Betty threw her head back and laughed. 

But Doris was to live long enough to talk across the ocean, though noone really dreamed of it then; indeed, at first it was quite ridiculed. 

"It is a nice thing to know a good deal, but it is awful hard to learn, "said the little girl presently. 

"Now, it seems to me I never could learn French. And when you rattle itoff in the way you do, I am dumb-founded. "

"What is that, Betty?"

Betty flushed and laughed. "Surprised or anything like that, " shereturned. 

"But, you see, I learned to talk and read just as you do English. Andthen papa being English, why I had both languages. It was very easy. "

"Patience and perseverance will make this easy. "

"And I can't knit a stocking nor make a shirt. And I haven't pieced abedspread nor worked a sampler. Mary Green has a beautiful one, with aborder of strawberries around the edge and forget-me-nots in the corner. Her father is going to have it framed. "

"Oh, you must not chatter so much. Begin and say some tables. "

"I know 'three times' skipping all about. But when you get good and usedone way you have to fly around some other way. I can say 'four times'straight, but I have to think a little. "

"Now begin, " said Betty. 

They seemed to run races, until Doris' cheeks were like roses and shewas all out of breath. At last she accomplished the baleful four, skipping about. 

"Mrs. Webb said I must learn four and five this week. And five is easyenough. Now, will you hear me do some sums in addition?"

She added aloud, and did quite well, Betty thought. 

"When I can make nice figures and do sums that are worth while, I am tohave a book to put them in, Mrs. Webb says. What is worth while, Betty?"

"Why it's--it's--a thing that is really worth doing well. I don't knoweverything, " with a half-laughing sigh. 

Betty had all her pieces ironed before the lessons were learned. Doristhought ironing was easier. It finished up of itself, and there wasnothing to come after. 

"Well--there is mending, " suggested Betty. 

"I know how to darn. I shall not have to learn that. "

"And you darn beautifully. "

While Mrs. Leverett was out she thought she would run down to AuntPriscilla's a few moments, so it was rather late when she returned. ButBetty had a pan of biscuits rising in the warmth of the fire. Then shewas allowed to go over to the Morses' and tell Jane the wonderful news. Uncle Winthrop walked up, so there would be no trouble about the horse;then, he had been writing all day, and needed some exercise. 

"And how did the silk suit?" he asked as he took both of the child'shands in his. 

"It was just beautiful. Betty was delighted, and so surprised! UncleWinthrop, isn't it a joyful thing to make people happy!"

"Why--I suppose it is, " with a curious hesitation in his voice, as heglanced down into the shining eyes. He had not thought much of makinganyone happy latterly. Indeed, he believed he had laid all the real joysof life in his wife's grave. He was proud of his son, of course, and hedid everything for his advancement. But a simple thing like this!

"We have been studying all the afternoon, Betty and I. She is so good tome. And to think, Uncle Win, she had read the Bible all through when shewas eight years old, and made a shirt. All the little girls make one fortheir father. And he gave her a silver half-dollar with a hole in it, and she put a blue ribbon through it and means to keep it always. But Ihaven't any father. And I began to read the Bible on Sunday. It willtake me two years, " with a long sigh. "I used to read the Psalms to MissArabella, and there was a portion for every day. They are just a monthlong, when the month has thirty days. "

Her chatter was so pleasant. Several times through the day her softvoice had haunted him. 

Aunt Elizabeth came in with her big kitchen apron tied over her bestafternoon gown. She didn't scold very hard, but she thought Uncle Winmight better be careful of the small fortune coming to Doris, since shehad neither father nor brother to augment it. And they would make Bettyas vain as a peacock in all her finery. 

Betty returned laden with patterns and her eyes as bright as stars. JaneMorse had promised to come over in the morning and help her cut hergown. Jane was a very "handy" girl, and prided herself on knowing enoughabout "mantua making" to get her living if she had need. At that periodnearly every family did the sewing of all kinds except the outside wearfor men. And fashions were as eagerly sought for and discussed among theyounger people as in more modern times. The old Puritan attire was stillin vogue. Not so many years before the Revolution the Royalists'fashions, both English and French, had been adopted. But the cocked hatsand scarlet coats, the flowing wigs and embroidered waistcoats, had beenswept away by the Continental style. For women, high heels and high capshad run riot, and hoops and flowing trains of brocades and velvets andglistening silks. And now the wife of the First Consul of France was theEmpress Josephine, and the Empire style had swept away the pompadour andeverything else. It had the advantage of being more simple, though quiteas costly. 

Uncle Win and Uncle Leverett talked politics after supper, one sittingone side of the chimney and one the other. Doris had gone over to UncleWinthrop's side, and she wished she could be two little girls just forthe evening. She was trying very hard to understand what they meant bythe Embargo and the Non-Intercourse Act, and she learned they were goingto have a new President in March. She did not think politics veryinteresting--she liked better to hear about the war that had begun morethan thirty years ago. Uncle Leverett was quite sure there would beanother war before they were done with it; that all the old questionshad not been fought out, and there could be no lasting peace until theywere. Did men like war so much, she wondered?

Betty stole around to Uncle Win's side before he went away and thankedhim again for the interest he had taken in Doris' desire. Yes, she was apretty girl; and how much cheer there seemed around the Leverettfireside! Warren was a fine young fellow, too, older by two years thanhis own son. He missed a certain cordial living that would have cheeredhis own life. When his boy came home he would have it different. And bythat time he would have decided about Doris. 

Betty and Jane had plenty of discussions the next morning. Waists wereshort and full, and with a square neck and a flat band, over which therewas a fall of lace, and short, puffed sleeves for evening wear. 

"But she isn't likely to go to another party this winter, and she willwant it for a best dress all next summer, " said Mrs. Leverett. 

"Oh, I should have long sleeves, as well, and just baste them in. Andthere's so much silk I should make a fichu to tie round in the back withtwo long ends. You can make that any time. And a scant ruffle not morethan an inch wide when it is finished. A ruffle round the skirt abouttwo inches when that is done. Letty Rowe has three ruffles around herchangeable taffeta. 'Twas made for her cousin's wedding, and it is justelegant. "

"It is a shame to waste stuff that way, " declared Mrs. Leverett. 

"But the frills are scant, and skirts are never more than two and a halfyards round. Why, last summer mother said I might have that finesprigged muslin of hers to make over, and I'm sure I have enough foranother gown. Mrs. Leverett, it doesn't take half as much to make a gownfor us as it did for our mothers, " said Jane with arch humor. 

"She had better save the piece for a new waist and sleeves, " declaredthe careful mother. 

"Well, maybe fichus and capes will go out before another summer. I wouldsave the piece now, at any rate, " agreed Jane. 

Jane was extremely clever. The girls had many amusing asides, for Mrs. Leverett was ironing in the kitchen. There was nothing harmful aboutthem, but they were full of gay promise. Jane cut and basted and fitted. There were the bodice and the sleeves. "You can easily slip out the longones, " she whispered, "and there was the skirt with the lining allbasted, and the ruffles cut and sewed together. "

"You'll have a nice job hemming them. I should do it over a cord. Itmakes them set out so much better. And if you get in the drag I'll comeover to-morrow. I'm to help mother with the nut cake this afternoon. Itcuts better to be a day or two old. We made the fruit cake a fortnightago. "

"How good you are! I don't know what I should have done without you!"

"And I don't know how Betty will ever repay you, " said Mrs. Leverett. 

"I know, " returned Jane laughingly. "I have planned to get every stitchout of her. I am going to quilt my 'Young Man's Ramble' this winter, andmother's said I might ask in two or three of the best quilters Iknow--Betty quilts so beautifully!"

The "Young Man's Ramble" was patchwork of a most intricate design, inwhich it seemed that one might ramble about fruitlessly. 

"I am glad there is some way of your getting even, " said the mother witha little pride. 

Jane took dinner with them and then ran off home. Warren went a shortdistance with her, as their way lay together. 

"I hope you didn't say anything about the dancing, " he remarked. "Motheris rather set against it. But Sister Electa gives dancing parties, andBetty's going to Hartford this winter. She ought to know how to dance. "

"Trust me for not letting the cat out of the bag!"

Betty sewed and sewed. She could hardly attend to Doris' lessons andsums. She hemmed the ruffle in the evening, and hurried with her workthe next morning. Everything went smoothly, and Mrs. Leverett was moreinterested than she would have believed. And she was quite ready to takeup the cudgel for her daughter's silken gown when Aunt Priscilla madeher appearance. Of course she would find fault. 

But it is the unexpected that happens. Aunt Priscilla was in anextraordinary mood. Some money had been paid to her that morning thatshe had considered lost beyond a peradventure. And she said, "It was agreat piece of foolishness, and Winthrop Adams at his time of life oughtto have had more sense, but what could you expect of a man alwaysbrowsing over books! And if she had thought Betty was dying for a silkfrock, she had two laid away that would come in handy some time. Shehadn't ever quite decided who should fall heir to them, but so many ofthe girls had grown up and had husbands to buy fine things for them, shesupposed it would be Betty. "

"What is going round the neck and sleeves?" she asked presently. 

"Mother has promised to lend me some lace, " answered Betty. "The othergirls had a borrowed wear out of it. "

"I'll look round a bit. I never had much real finery, but husband alwayswanted me to dress well when we were first married. We went out a gooddeal for a while, before he was hurt. I'll see what I have. "

And the next morning old Polly brought over a box with "Missus' bestcompliments. " There was some beautiful English thread lace about fourinches wide, just as it had lain away for years, wrapped in soft whitepaper, with a cake of white wax to keep it from turning unduly yellow. 

"Betty, you are in wonderful luck, " said her mother. "Something hasstirred up Aunt Priscilla. "

Just at noon that eventful Thursday Mr. Manning came in from Salem forhis mother-in-law. Mrs. Manning's little daughter had been born at eightthat morning, and Mary wanted her mother at once. She had promised togo, but hardly expected the call so soon. 

There were so many charges to give Betty, who was to keep house for thenext week. Nothing was quite ready. Mother fashion, she had counted ondoing this and that before she went; and if Betty couldn't get along shemust ask Aunt Priscilla to come, just as if Betty had not kept house awhole week last summer. There was advice to father and to Warren, and hewas to try to bring Betty home by nine o'clock that evening. What Doriswould do in the afternoon, she couldn't see. 

"Go off with an easy heart, mother, " said Mr. Leverett; "I will comehome early this afternoon. "

CHAPTER VIII

SINFUL OR NOT?

"You should have seen me when Jane tied a white sash about my waist. Then I was just complete. "

"But you looked beautiful before--like a--well, a queen couldn't havelooked prettier. Or the Empress Josephine. "

Betty laughed and kissed the little girl whose eyes were still full ofadmiration. She had not come home until ten, and found her fatherwaiting at the fireside, but Doris was snuggled up in bed and soundlyasleep. She had risen at her father's call, made the breakfast, and sentthe men off in time; then heard the lesson Doris wasn't quite sure of, and sent her to school; and now the dinner was cleared away and theywere sitting by the fire. 

The Empress Josephine was in her glory then, one of the notables ofEurope. 

"And Mrs. Morse said such lace as that would be ten dollars a yard now. Think of that! Thirty dollars! But didn't you get lonesome waiting forfather?"

"He came just half an hour afterward. And, oh, we had such a grand, funny time getting supper. It was as good as a party. I poured the tea. And he called me Miss Adams, like a grown lady. And, then, what do youthink? We played fox and geese! And do you know I thought the geese weredumb to let the fox get them all. And then he took the geese and soonpenned my fox in a corner. Then he told me about the fox and the gooseand the measure of corn and the man crossing the stream. It was justdelightful. I wanted to stay up until you came home, but I did get sosleepy. And was the party splendid? I don't think anyone could have beenprettier than you!"

"Sally Prentiss had a pink silk frock, and the ruffles were fringed out, which made them fluffy. It was beautiful! Oh, I should have felt justawful in my gray cloth or my blue winter frock. And I owe most of thedelight to you, little Doris. I've been thinking--sometime I will workyou a beautiful white frock, fine India muslin. "

"And what did they do?"

"We didn't sew much, " Betty laughed. "We talked and talked. I knew allbut one girl, and we were soon acquainted. Jane didn't have a thing todo, of course. Then the gentlemen came and we went out to supper. Thetable was like a picture. There was cold turkey and cold ham and coldbaked pork. They were all delicious. And bread and biscuits and puffylittle cakes quite new. Mrs. Morse's cousin brought the recipe, and shehas promised it to mother. And there were jams and jellies and ever somany things, and then all the plates and meats were sent away, and thebirthday cake with seventeen tiny candles was lighted up. And cake ofevery kind, and whipped cream and nuts and candies. Then we went back tothe parlor and played "proverbs" and "What is my thought like?" and thenblack Joe came with his fiddle. First they danced the minuet. It wasbeautiful. And then they had what is called cotillions. I believe thatis the new fashionable dance. It takes eight people, but you can havetwo or three at the same time. They dance in figures. And, oh, it isjust delightful! I _do_ wonder if it is wrong?"

"What would make it wrong?" asked Doris gravely. 

"That's what puzzles me. A great many people think it right and sendtheir children to dancing-school. On all great occasions there seems tobe dancing. It is stepping and floating around gracefully. You think ofswallows flying and flowers swinging and grass waving in the summersun. "

"But if there is so much of it in the world, and if God made the worldgay and glad and rejoicing and full of butterflies and birds and ever somany things that don't do any real work but just have a lovely time----"

Doris' wide-open eyes questioned her companion. 

"They haven't any souls. I don't know. " Betty shook her head. "Let's askfather about it to-night. When you are little you play tag andpuss-in-the-corner and other things, and run about full of fun. Dancingis more orderly and refined. And there's the delicious music! All theyoung men were so nice and polite, --so kind of elegant, --and it makesyou feel of greater consequence. I don't mean vain, only as if it wasworth while to behave prettily. It's like the parlor and the kitchen. You don't take your washing and scrubbing and scouring in the parlor, though that work is all necessary. So there are two sides to life. Andmy side just now is getting supper, while your side is studying tables. Oh, I do wonder if you will ever get to know them!"

Doris sighed. She would so much rather talk about the party. 

"And your frock was--pretty?" she ventured timidly. 

"All the girls thought it lovely. And I told them it was a gift from mylittle cousin, who came from old Boston--and they were so interested inyou. They thought Doris a beautiful name, but Sally said the family nameought to be grander to go with it. But Adams is a fine old name, too--the first name that was ever given. There was only one man then, and when there came to be such hosts of them they tacked the 's' on tomake it a noun of multitude. "

"Did they really? Some of the children are learning about nouns. Oh, dear, how much there is to learn!" said the little girl with a sigh. 

Betty went at her supper. People ate three good stout meals in thosedays. It made a deal of cooking. It made a stout race of people as well, and one heard very little about nerves and indigestion. Betty wasgetting to be quite a practiced cook. 

Mr. Leverett took a good deal of interest hearing about the party. Warren had enjoyed it mightily. And then they besieged him for anopinion on the question of dancing. Warren presented his petition thathe might be allowed to join a class of young men that was being formed. There were only a few vacancies. 

"I do not think I have a very decided opinion about it, " he returnedslowly. "Times have changed a good deal since I was young, andamusements have changed with them. A hundred or so years ago life wasvery strenuous, and prejudices of people very strong. Yet the youngpeople skated and had out-of-door games, and indoor plays that weconsider very rough now. And you remember that our ancestors wereopposed to nearly everything their oppressors did. Their own lives weretoo serious to indulge in much pleasuring. The pioneers of a nationrarely do. But we have come to an era of more leisure as to social life. Whether it will make us as strong as a nation remains to be seen. "

"That doesn't answer my question, " said Warren respectfully. 

"I am going to ask you to wait until you are of age, mostly for yourmother's sake. I think she dreads leaving the old ways. And then Bettywill have no excuse, " with a shrewd little smile. 

Warren looked disappointed. 

"But I danced last night, " said Betty. "And we used to dance last winterat school. Two or three of the girls were good enough to show us the newsteps. And one of the amusing things was a draw cotillion. The girlsdrew out a slip of paper that had a young man's name on it, and then shehad to pass it over to him, and he danced with her. And who do you thinkI had?" triumphantly. 

"I do not know the young men who were there, " said her father. 

"I hope it was the very nicest and best, " exclaimed Doris. 

"It just was! Jane's cousin, Morris Winslow. And he was quite the leaderin everything, almost as if it was his party. And he is one of the realquality, you know. I was almost afraid to dance with him, but he was sonice and told me what to do every time, so I did not make any seriousblunders. But it is a pleasure to feel that you know just how. "

"There will be years for you to learn, " said her father. "Meanwhile theghost of old Miles Standish may come back. "

"What would he do?" asked Doris, big-eyed. 

Warren laughed. "What he did in the flesh was this: The Royalists--yousee, they were not all Puritans that came over--were going to keep anold-time festival at a place called Merry Mount. They erected a May poleand were going to dance around it. "

"That is what they do at home. And they have a merry time. Miss Arabellatook me. And didn't Miles Standish like it?"

"I guess not. He sent a force of men to tear it down, and marched Mortonand his party into Plymouth, where they were severely reprimanded--finedas well, some people say. "

"We do not rule our neighbors quite as strictly now. But one must admirethose stanch old fellows, after all. "

"I am glad the world has grown wider, " said Warren. But he wished itswideness had taken in his mother, who had a great fear of the evilslying in wait for unwary youth. Still he would not go against her wisheswhile he was yet under age. Young people were considered children intheir subjection to their parents until this period. And girls whostayed at home were often in subjection all their lives. There were menwho ruled their families with a sort of iron sway, but Mr. Leverett hadalways been considered rather easy. 

Doris begged to come out and dry the dishes, but they said tablesinstead of talking of the seductive party. Mr. Leverett had to go outfor an hour. Betty sat down and took up her knitting. She felt rathertired and sleepy, for she had gone on with the party the night before, after she was in bed. A modern girl would be just getting ready to go toher party at ten. But then she would not have to get up at half-pastfive the next morning, make a fire, and cook breakfast. Suddenly Bettyfound herself nodding. 

"Put up your book, Doris. I'll mix the cakes and we will go to bed. Youcan dream on the lessons. "

The party had demoralized Doris as well. 

Among the real quality young men came to inquire after the welfare ofthe ladies the next morning, or evening at the latest. But people in themiddle classes were occupied with their employments, which were the mainthings of their lives. 

And though the lines were strongly drawn and the "quality" werearistocratic, there were pleasant gradations, marked by a fine breedingon the one side and a sense of fitness on the other, that met when therewas occasion, and mingled and fused agreeably, then returned each to hisproper sphere. The Morses were well connected and had some quite high-uprelatives. For that matter, so were the Leveretts, but Foster Leverettwas not ambitions for wealth or social distinction, and Mrs. Leverettclung to the safety of the good old ways. 

Jane ran over in the morning with a basket of some of the choicer kindsof cake, and some nuts, raisins, and mottoes for the little girl. Therewere so many nice things she was dying to tell Betty, --compliments, --andsome from Cousin Morris. And didn't she think everything went offnicely?

"It was splendid, all through, " cried Betty enthusiastically. "I wouldlike to go to a party--well, I suppose every week would be too often, but at least twice a month. "

"The Chauncey Winslows are going to have a party Thanksgiving night. They are Morris' cousins and not mine, but I've been there; and Morrissaid last night I should have an invitation. It will be just splendid, I know. "

"But you are seventeen. And mother thinks I am only a little girl, "returned Betty. 

"Oh, yes; I didn't go scarcely anywhere last winter. Being grown up isever so much nicer. But it will come for you. "

"Electa wants me to visit her this winter. The assembly is to meet, youknow, and she has plenty of good times, although she has three children. I _do_ hope I can go! And I have that lovely frock. "

"That would be delightful. I wish I had a sister married and living awaysomewhere--New York, for instance. They have such fine times. Oh, dear!how do you get along alone?"

"It keeps me pretty busy. "

Jane had come out in the kitchen, so Betty could go on with her dinnerpreparations. 

"Mother thinks of keeping Cousin Nabby all winter. She likes Boston so, and it's lonely up in New Hampshire on the farm. That will ease me upwonderfully. "

"If I go away mother will have to get someone. "

"Although they do not think we young people are of much account, "laughed Jane. "Give your little girl a good big chunk of party cake andrun over when you can. "

"But I can't now. "

"Then I will have to do the visiting. "

Dinner was ready on the mark, and Mr. Leverett praised it. Doris camehome in high feather. She had not missed a word, and she had done allher sums. 

"I think I am growing smarter, " she announced with a kind of graveexultation. "Don't you think Aunt Elizabeth will teach me how to knitwhen she comes back?"

Not to have knit a pair of stockings was considered rather disgracefulfor a little girl. 

Aunt Priscilla came over early Saturday afternoon. She found the housein very good order, and she glanced sharply about, too. They had notheard from Mary yet, but the elder lady said no news was good news. Thenshe insisted on looking over the clothes for the Monday's wash andmending up the rents. Tuesday she would come in and darn the stockings. When she was nine years old it was her business to do all the familydarning, looking askance at Doris. 

"Now, if you had been an only child, Aunt Priscilla, and had no parents, what a small amount of darning would have fallen to your share!" saidBetty. 

"Well, I suppose I would have been put out somewhere and trained to makemyself useful. And if I'd had any money that would have been oninterest, so that I could have some security against want in my old age. Anyway, it isn't likely I should have been allowed to fritter away mytime. "

Betty wondered how Aunt Priscilla could content herself with doing sucha very little now! Not but what she had earned a rest. And FosterLeverett, who managed some of her business, said _sub rosa_ that she wasnot spending all her income. 

"You can't come up to your mother making tea, " she said at the suppertable. "Your mother makes the best cup of tea I ever tasted. "

Taking it altogether they did get on passably well without Mrs. Leverettduring the ten days. She brought little James, six years of age, whocouldn't go the long distance to school in cold weather with the twoolder children, and so was treated to a visit at grandmother's. 

Mary was doing well and had a sweet little girl, as good as a kitten. Mr. Manning's Aunt Comfort had come to stay a spell through the winter. And now there was getting ready for Thanksgiving. There was no time tomake mince pies, but then Mrs. Leverett didn't care so much for themearly in the season. Hollis' family would come up, they would ask AuntPriscilla, and maybe Cousin Winthrop would join them. So they were busyas possible. 

Little James took a great liking to his shy cousin Doris, and helped hersay tables and spell. He had been at school all summer and was verybright and quick. 

"But, Uncle Foster, " she declared, "the children in America are muchsmarter than English children. They understand everything so easily. "

Then came the first big snowstorm of the season. There had been two orthree little dashes and squalls. It began at noon and snowed all night. The sky was so white in the early morning you could hardly tell wherethe snow line ended and where it began; but by and by there came abluish, silvery streak that parted it like a band, and presently a palesun ventured forth, hanging on the edge of yellowish clouds and growingstronger, until about noon it flooded everything with gold, and theheavens were one broad sheet of blue magnificence. 

Doris did not go to school in the morning. There were no broken paths, and boys and men were busy shoveling out or tracking down. 

"It is a heavy snow for so early in the season, " declared UncleLeverett. "We are not likely to see bare ground in a long while. "

Doris thought it wonderful. And when Uncle Winthrop came the next dayand took them out in a big sleigh with a span of horses, her heart beatwith unwonted enjoyment. But the familiarity little James evinced withit quite startled her. 

Thanksgiving Day was a great festival even then, and had been for along while. Christmas was held of little account. New Year's Day had agreater social aspect. Commencement, election, and training days were inhigh favor, and every good housewife baked election cake, and everyvoter felt entitled to a half-holiday at least. Then there was an annualfast day, with church-going and solemnity quite different from its modernsuccessor. 

The Hollis Leveretts, two grown people and four children, came up early. Sam, or little Sam as he was often called to distinguish him from histwo uncles, was a nice well-grown and well-looking boy of about ten. Mrs. Hollis had lost her next child, a boy also, and Bessy was justbeyond six. Charles and the baby completed the group. 

Uncle Leverett made a fire in the best room early in the morning. Doriswas a little curious to see it with the shutters open. It was a largeroom, with a "boughten" ingrain carpet, stiff chairs, two great squareottomans, a big sofa, and some curious old paintings, besides a numberof framed silhouettes of different members of the family. 

The most splendid thing of all was the great roaring fire in the widechimney. The high shelf was adorned with two pitchers in curiousglittering bronze, with odd designs in blue and white raised from thesurface. The children brought their stools and sat around the fire. 

Adjoining this was the spare room, the guest chamber _par excellence_. Sometimes the old house had been full, when there were young peoplecoming and going, and relatives from distant places visiting. Electa andMary had both married young, though in the early years of her marriedlife Electa had made long visits home. But her husband had prospered inbusiness and gone into public life, and she entertained a good deal, andthe journey home was long and tedious. Mary was much nearer, but she hada little family and many cares. 

Sam took the leadership of the children. He had seen Doris for a fewminutes on several occasions and had not a very exalted opinion of agirl who could only cipher in addition, while he was over in interestand tare and tret. To be sure he could neither read nor talk French. This year he had gone to the Latin school. He hadn't a very high opinionof Latin, and he did not want to go to college. He was going to be ashipping merchant, and own vessels to go all over the world and bringcargoes back to Boston. He meant to be a rich man and own a fine bighouse like the Hancock House. 

Doris thought it would be very wonderful for a little boy to get rich. 

"And you might be lord mayor of Boston, " she said, thinking of therenowned Whittington. 

"We don't have _lord_ mayors nor lord anything now, except occasionallya French or English nobleman. And we don't care much for them, " said theuncompromising young republican. "I should like to be Governor orperhaps President, but I shouldn't want to waste my time on anythingelse. "

Grandfather Leverett smiled over these boyish ambitions, but he wishedSam's heart was not quite so set on making money. 

There were so few grown people that by bringing in one of the kitchentables and placing it alongside they could make room for all. Betty wasto be at the end, flanked on both sides by the children; Mrs. Hollis atthe other end. There was a savory fragrance of turkey, sauces, andvegetables, and the table seemed literally piled up with good things. 

Just as they were about to sit down Uncle Winthrop came in for a momentto express his regrets again at not being able to make one of thefamily circle. Doris thought he looked very handsome in his bestclothes, his elegant brocaded waistcoat, and fine double-ruffledshirt-front. He wore his hair brushed back and tied in a queue andslightly powdered. 

He was to go to a grand dinner with some of the city officials, agathering that was not exactly to his taste, but one he could not welldecline. And when Doris glanced up with such eager admiration andapproval, his heart warmed tenderly toward her, as it recalled otherappreciative eyes that had long ago closed for the last time. 

What a dinner it was! Sam studied hard and played hard in the briefwhile he could devote to play, and he ate accordingly. Doris was filledwith amazement. No wonder he was round and rosy. 

"Doesn't that child ever eat any more?" asked Mrs. Hollis. "No wondershe is so slim and peaked. I'd give her some gentian, mother, oranything that would start her up a little. "

Doris turned scarlet. 

"She's always well, " answered Mrs. Leverett. "She hasn't had a sick daysince she came here. I think she hasn't much color naturally, and herskin is very fair. "

"I do hope she will stay well. I've had such excellent luck with mychildren, who certainly do give their keeping credit. I think she's beenhoused too much. I'm afraid she won't stand the cold winter very well. "

"You can't always go by looks, " commented Aunt Priscilla. 

After the dinner was cleared away and the dishes washed (all the grownpeople helped and made short work of it), the kitchen was straightened, the chairs being put over in the corner, and the children who werelarge enough allowed a game of blindman's buff, Uncle Leverett watchingto see that no untoward accidents happened, and presently allowinghimself to be caught. And, oh, what a scattering and laughing there wasthen! His arms were so large that it seemed as if he must sweepeverybody into them, but, strange to relate, no one was caught soeasily. They dodged and tiptoed about and gave little half-giggles andthrilled with success. He did catch Sam presently, and the boy did notenjoy it a bit. Not that he minded being blindfolded, but he should haveliked to boast that grandfather could not catch him. 

Sam could see under the blinder just the least bit. Doris had on redmorocco boots, and they were barely up to her slim ankles. They weregetting small, so Aunt Elizabeth thought she might take a little goodout of them, as they were by far too light for school wear. Sam was surehe could tell by them, and he resolved to capture her. But every time hecame near grandfather rushed before her, and he didn't want to catchback right away, neither did he want Bessy, whose half-shriek betrayedher whereabouts. 

Mrs. Leverett opened the door. 

"I think you have made noise enough, " she said. People believed in theold adage then that children should "be seen and not heard, " and thatindoors was no place for a racket. "Aunt Priscilla thinks she must go, but she wants you to sing a little. "

This was for Mr. Leverett, but Sam had a very nice boy's voice and feltproud enough when he lifted it up in church. 

"I'll come, grandmother, " he said with some elation, as if he alone hadbeen asked. And as he tore off the blinder he put his head down close toDoris, and whispered:

"It was mean of you to hide behind grandfather every time, and he didn'tplay fair a bit. "

But having a peep at the red shoes as they went dancing round was fairenough!

Hollis Leverett sang in the choir. They had come to this innovation, though they drew the line at instrumental music. He had a really finetenor voice. Mr. Leverett sang in a sort of natural, untrained tone, very sweet. Mrs. Hollis couldn't sing at all, but she was very proud tohave the children take after their father. There were times when AuntPriscilla sang for herself, but her voice had grown rather quivering anduncertain. So Betty and her mother had to do their best to keep frombeing drowned out. But the old hymns were touching, with here and therea line of rare sweetness. 

Hollis Leverett was going to take Aunt Priscilla home and then returnfor the others. Sam insisted upon going with them, so grandfatherroasted some corn for Bessy and Doris. They had not the high art ofpopping it then and turning it inside out, although now and then a grainachieved such a success all by itself. Bessy thought Doris rather queerand not very smart. 

The two little ones were bundled up and made ready, and the sleigh cameback with a jingle for warning. Mrs. Hollis took her baby in her arms, grandfather carried out little Foster, and they were all packed insnugly and covered up almost head and ears with the great fur robes, while little Sam shouted out the last good-night. 

Mrs. Leverett straightened things in the best room until all thecompany air had gone out of it. Doris felt the difference and was gladto come out to her own chimney corner. Then Betty spread the table andthey had a light supper, for, what with dinner being a little late andvery hearty, no one was hungry. But they sipped their tea and talkedover the children and how finely Sam was getting along in his studies, and Mrs. Leverett brought up the Manning children, for much as she lovedHollis, her daughter Mary's children came in for a share ofgrandmotherly affection. And in her heart she felt that little James wasquite as good as anybody. 

Warren had promised to spend the evening with some young friends. Bettywished she were a year older and could have the privilege of inviting inschoolmates and their brothers, and that she might have fire in theparlor on special occasions. But, to compensate, some of the neighborsdropped in. Doris and James played fox and geese until they were sleepy. James had a little cot in the corner of grandmother's room. 

CHAPTER IX

WHAT WINTER BROUGHT

Oh, what a lovely white world it was! The low, sedgy places were frozenover and covered with snow; the edges of the bay, Charles River, andMystic River were assuming their winter garments as well. And when, justa week after, another snowstorm came, there seemed a multitude of whitepeaks out in the harbor, and the hills were transformed into veritablesnow-capped mountains. Winter had set in with a rigor unknown to-day. But people did not seem to mind it. Even the children had a good timesledding and snowballing and building snow forts and fighting battles. There were mighty struggles between the North Enders and the SouthEnders. Louisburg was retaken, 1775 was re-enacted, and Paul Revereagain swung his lantern and roused his party to arms, and snowballswhitened instead of darkening the air with the smoke of firearms. Deedsof mighty prowess were done on both sides. 

But the boys had the best of it surely. The girls had too much to do. They were soon too large for romping and playing. There were stockingsto knit and to darn. There were long overseams in sheets; there was noend of shirt-making for the men. They put the hems in their own frocksand aprons, they stitched gussets and bands and seams. People were stillspinning and weaving, though the mills that were to lead the revolutionin industries had come in. The Embargo was taxing the ingenuity ofbrains as well as hands, and as more of everything was needed for theincrease of population, new methods were invented to shorten processesthat were to make New England the manufacturing center of the new world. 

When the children had nothing else to do there was always a bag ofcarpet rags handy. There were braided rugs that were quite marvels oftaste, and even the hit-or-miss ones were not bad. 

Still they were allowed out after supper on moonlight nights for an houror so, and then they had grand good times. The father or elder brotherswent along to see that no harm happened. Fort Hill was one of thefavorite coasting places, and parties of a larger growth thronged here. But Beacon Hill had not been shorn of all its glory. 

Uncle Winthrop came over one day and took the children and Betty to seethe battle at Fort Hill. The British had intrenched themselves withforts and breastworks and had their colors flying. It really had beenhard work to enlist men or boys in this army. No one likes to go into afight with the foregone conclusion that he is to be beaten. But theywere to do their best, and they did it. The elders went out to see thefun. The rebels directed all their energies to the capture of one fortinstead of opening fire all along the line, and by dusk they hadsucceeded in demolishing that, when the troops on both sides weresummoned home to supper and to comfortable beds, an innovation not laiddown in the rules of warfare. 

Little James had been fired with military ardor. Cousin Sam was theleader of one detachment of the rebel forces. Catch him anywhere but onthe winning side!

Doris had been much interested as well, and that evening Uncle Leveretttold them stories about Boston thirty years before. He was a young manof three-and-twenty when Paul Revere swung his lantern to give thealarm. He could only touch lightly upon what had been such solemnearnest to the men of that time, the women as well. 

"I'm going to be a soldier, " declared James, with all the fervor of hisyouthful years. "But you can't ever be, Doris. "

"No, " answered Doris softly, squeezing Uncle Leverett's hand in both ofhers. "But there isn't any war. "

"Yes there is--over in France and England, and ever so many places. Myfather was reading about it. And if there wasn't any war here, couldn'twe go and fight for some other country?"

"I hope there will never be war in your time, Jimmie, boy, " said hisgrandmother. "And it is bedtime for little people. "

"Why does it come bedtime so soon?" in a deeply aggrieved tone. "When Iam a big man I am going to sit up clear till morning. And I'll tell mygrandchildren all night long how I fought in the wars. "

"That is looking a long way ahead, " returned grandfather. 

Besides the lessons, Doris was writing a letter to Miss Arabella. Thatlady would have warmly welcomed any little scrawl in Doris' own hand. Uncle Winthrop had acknowledged her safe arrival in good health, andenlarged somewhat on the pleasant home she had found with her relatives. Betty had overlooked the little girl's letter and made numerouscorrections, and she had copied and thought of some new things andcopied it over again. She had added a little French verse also. 

"Dear me!" exclaimed Aunt Elizabeth, "when will the child ever learnanything useful! There doesn't seem any time. The idea of a girl of tenyears old never having knit a stocking! And she will be full that andmore!"

"But everybody doesn't knit, " said Betty. 

"Oh, yes, you can buy those flimsy French things that do not give youany wear. And presently we may not be able to buy either French orEnglish. She is not going to be so rich either. It's nonsense to thinkof that marshy land ever being valuable. Whatever possessed anyone tobuy it, I can't see! And if Doris was to be a queen I think she ought toknow something useful. "

"I do not suppose I shall ever need to spin, " Betty said rather archly. 

Mrs. Leverett had insisted that all her girls should learn to spin bothwool and flax. Betty had rebelled a little two years ago, but she hadlearned nevertheless. 

"And there was a time when a premium was paid to the most skillfulspinner. Your grandmother, Betty, was among those who spun on theCommon. The women used to go out there with their wheels. And there werespinning schools. The better class had to pay, but a certain number ofpoor women were taught on condition that they would teach their childrenat home. And it is not a hundred years ago either. There was no cloth tobe had, and Manufactory House was established. "

Betty had heard the story of spinning on the Commons, for her owngrandmother had told it. But she had an idea that the world would go onrather than retrograde. For now they were turning out cotton cloth andprinting calico and making canvas and duck, and it was the boast of thefamous _Constitution_ that everything besides her armament was made inMassachusetts. 

Uncle Winthrop thought Doris' letter was quite a masterpiece for alittle girl. At least, that was what he said. I think he was a good dealmore interested in that than in the sampler she had begun. And he agreedprivately with Betty that "useless" sometimes was misspelled into"useful. "

Another letter created quite a consternation. This was from Hartford. Mrs. King wrote that a friend, a Mr. Eastman, was going from Springfieldto Boston on some business, and on his return he would bring Betty homewith him. His wife was going on to Hartford a few days later and wouldbe very pleased to have Betty's company. She did not know when anotherchance would offer, for not many people were journeying about in thewinter. 

Betty was to bring her nicest gowns, and she needed a good thick pelisseand heavy woolen frock for outside wear. The new hats were very large, and young girls were wearing white or cream beaver. Some very handsomeones had come from New York recently. There was a big bow on the top, and two feathers if you could afford it, and ribbon of the same widthtied under the chin. She was to bring her slippers and clockedstockings, her newest white frock, and if she had to buy a new one ofany kind it need not be made until she came to Hartford. 

"I never heard of such a thing!" declared Mrs. Leverett, aghast. "Shemust think your father is made of money. And when 'Lecty and Matthiaswere married they went to housekeeping in three rooms in old Mrs. Morton's house, and 'Lecty was happy as a queen, and had to save atevery turn. She wasn't talking then about white hats and wide ribbonsand feathers and gewgaws. The idea!"

"Of course I can't have the hat, " returned Betty resignedly. "But mybrown one will do. And, oh, isn't it lucky my silk is made and trimmedwith that beautiful lace! If I only had my white skirt worked! And thatIndia muslin might do with a little fixing up. If I had a lace ruffle toput around the bottom!"

"I don't know how I can spare you, Betty. I can't put Doris to doinganything. When any of my girls were ten years old they could do quite abit of housekeeping. If she wasn't so behind in her studies!"

Betty had twenty plans in a moment, but she knew her mother would objectto every one. She would be very discreet until she could talk the matterover with her father. 

"Everything about the journey is so nicely arranged, " she began; "and, you see, Electa says it will not cost anything to Springfield. There maynot be a chance again this whole winter. "

"The summer will be a good deal pleasanter. "

"But the Capital won't be nearly so"--"gay, " she was about to say, butchanged it to "interesting. "

"Betty, I do wish you were more serious-minded. To think you're sixteen, almost a woman, and in some things you're just a companion for Doris!"

Betty thought it was rather hard to be between everything. She was notold enough for society, she was not a young lady, but she was too old toindulge in the frolics of girlhood. She couldn't be wise and sedate--atleast, she did not want to be. And were the fun and the good timesreally wicked?

She was on the lookout for her father that evening. Warren was going tothe house of a friend to supper, as the debating society met there, andit saved him a long walk. 

"Father, Electa's letter has come, " in a hurried whisper. "She's plannedout my visit, but mother thinks--oh, do try and persuade her, and makeit possible! I want to go so much. "

But Betty began to think the subject never would be mentioned. Supperwas cleared away, Doris and James studied, and she sat and workeddiligently on her white gown. Then she knew her mother did not mean tosay a word before her and presently she went to bed. 

Mrs. Leverett handed the letter over to her husband. "From 'Lecty, " shesaid briefly. 

He read it and re-read it, while she knit on her stocking. 

"Yes"--slowly. "Well--Betty might as well go. She has been promised thevisit so long. "

"I can't spare her. Even if I sent James home, there's Doris. And I amnot as spry as I was ten years ago. The work is heavy. "

"Oh, you must have someone. John Grant was in from Roxbury to-day. Hehas two girls quite anxious to go out this winter. I think the oldestmeans to marry next spring or summer, and wants to earn a little money. "

"We can't take in everyone who wants to earn a little money. "

"No, " humorously. "It would bankrupt us these hard times. The keep wouldbe the same as for Betty, and a few dollars wages wouldn't signify. "

"But Betty'll want no end of things. It does seem as if 'Lecty hadturned into a fine lady. Whether it would be a good influence on Betty!She's never been serious yet. "

"And Electa joined the church at fourteen. I think you can trust Bettywith her. To be sure, Mat's prospered beyond everything. "

Prosperity and every good gift came from the Lord, Mrs. Leverett fullybelieved. And yet David had seen the "ungodly in great prosperity. " Shehad a mother's pride in Mr. And Mrs. King, but they were rather gay withdinner parties and everything. 

"She will have to take Betty just as she is. Her clothes are goodenough. "

Mr. Leverett re-read the letter. He wasn't much judge of white hats andwide ribbons, and, since the time was short, perhaps Electa could helpher to spend the money to better advantage, and there would be no worry. He would just slip a bill or two in Betty's hand toward the last. 

"Betty's a nice-looking girl, " said her father. 

"I should be sorry to have her niceness all come out in looks, " saidBetty's mother. 

There was no reply to this. 

"I really do not think she ought to go. There will be other winters. "

"Well--we will sleep on the matter. We can't tell about next winter. "

Warren thought she ought to go. Aunt Priscilla came over a day or twoafter in Jonas Field's sleigh. He was out collecting, and would call forher at half-past five, though she still insisted she was prettysure-footed in walking. 

Mr. Perkins in a moment of annoyance had once said to his wife:"Priscilla, you have one virtue, at least. One can always tell justwhere to find you. You are sure to be on the opposition side. "

She had a faculty of always seeing how the other side looked. She had acurious sympathy with it as well. And though she was not an irresolutewoman, she did sometimes have a longing to go over to the enemy when itwas very attractive. 

She listened now--and nodded at Mrs. Leverett's reasoning, adding thepungency of her sniff. Betty's heart dropped like lead. True, she hadnot really counted on Aunt Priscilla's influence. 

"I just do suppose if 'Lecty was ill and alone, and wanted Betty, there'd be no difficulty. It's the question between work and play. Therewan't much time to play when I was young, and now I wish I had some ofthe work, since I'm too old to play. I do believe the thing ought to beevened up. "

This was rather non-committal, but the girl's heart rose a little. 

"Oh, if 'Lecty was ill--but you know, Aunt Priscilla, they keep a manbeside the girl, and it seems to me she is always having a nurse whenthe children are ailing, or a woman in to sew, or some extra help. Shedoesn't _need_ Betty, and it seems as if I did. "

"Now, if that little young one was good for anything!"

"She's at her lessons all the time, and she must learn to sew. I shouldhave been ashamed of my girls if they had not known how to make onesingle garment by the time they were ten year old. "

"But Doris isn't ten, " interposed Betty. "And here is Electa's letter, Aunt Priscilla. "

"No, I don't see how I can spare Betty, " said Mrs. Leverett decisively. 

Aunt Priscilla took out her glasses and polished them and then adjustedthem to her rather high nose. 

"Well, 'Lecty's got to be quite quality, hasn't she? And Matthias, too. I suppose it's proper to give folks their whole name when they'regetting up in the world and going to legislatures. But land! I rememberMat King when he was a patched-up, barefooted little boy. He was alwayshanging after 'Lecty, and your uncle thought she might have done better. 'Lecty was real good-looking. And now they're top of the heap withmenservants and maidservants, and goodness knows what all. "

"Yes, they have prospered remarkably. "

"The Kings were a nice family. My, how Mis' King did keep them children, five of them, when their father died, and not a black sheep among them!Theron's a big sea captain, and Zenas in Washington building up theCapitol, and I dare say Mat is thinking of being sent to Congress. Joeis in the Army, and the young one keeps his mother a lady in New York, I've heard say. Mis' King deserves some reward. "

Betty glanced up in surprise. It was seldom Aunt Priscilla praised inthis wholesale fashion. 

"And this about the hat is just queer, Betty. You should have seen oldMadam Clarissa Bowdoin, who came to call yesterday, with a fine sleighand driver and footman. She just holds on to this world's good things, Itell you, and she's past seventy. My, how she was trigged out in a blacksatin pelisse lined with fur! And she had a black beaver bonnet or hat, whatever you call it, with a big bow on top, and two black feathersflying. I should hate to have my feathers whip all out in such a windyday. "

"Oh, yes, that is the first style, " said Betty. "Hartford can't keep itall. "

"Hartford can't hold a candle to Boston, even if Mat King is there. Stands to reason we can get fashions just as soon here, if theirs docome from New York. Madam was mighty fine. You see, I do have somegrand friends, Betty. Your uncle was a man well thought of. "

"Madam Bowdoin holds her age wonderfully, " said Mrs. Leverett. 

"Yes. But she's never done a day's work in her life, and I don'tremember when I didn't work. Let me see--I've most forgot the thread ofmy discourse. Oh, you never would believe, Betty, that twenty year agothere was just such a fashion. I had a white beaver--what possessed meto get it I don't know. Everything was awful high. I had an idea thatwhite would be rather plain, but when it had that great bow on top, andstrings a full finger wide--well, I didn't even dare show it to youruncle! So I packed it away with white wax and in a linen towel, and whenshe'd gone yesterday I went and looked at it. 'Taint white now, but it'sjust the color of rich cream when it's stood twenty-four hours or so. Fursisee, they were just as much alike as two peas except as to colorand the feathers. I declare I _was_ beat! Now, if you were going to bemarried, Betty, it might do for a wedding hat. "

"But I'm not going to be married, " with a sigh. 

"I should hope not, " said her mother--"at sixteen. "

"My sister Patty was married when she was sixteen, and Submit when shewas seventeen. The oldest girls went off in a hurry, so the others hadto fill their places. Well--it just amazes me reading about this bonnet. And whatever I'll do with mine except to give it away, I don't know. Idid think once of having it dyed. But the bow on top was so handsome, and I've kept paper wadded up inside, and it hasn't flatted down a mite. Now, Elizabeth, she has that silk we all thought so foolish, and herbrown frock and pelisse will be just the thing to travel in. And maybe Icould find something else. The things will be scattered when I am deadand gone, and I might as well have the good of giving them away. Mostof the girls are married off and have husbands to provide for them. Iused to think I'd take some orphan body to train and sort of fillPolly's place, for she grows more unreliable every day. Yet I do supposeit's Christian charity to keep her. And young folks are so trifling. "

"Go make a cup of tea, Betty, " said Mrs. Leverett. 

"Now, Elizabeth, " when Betty had shut the door, "I don't see why youmightn't as well let Betty go as not. 'Tisn't as if it was amongstrangers. And there's really no telling what may happen next year. Wehaven't any promise of that. "

Mrs. Leverett looked up in surprise. 

"Tisn't every day such a chance comes to hand. She couldn't go alone ona journey like that. And 'Lecty seems quite lotting on it. "

"But Betty's just started in at housekeeping, and she would forget somuch. "

"Betty started in full six months ago. And the world swings round sofast I dare say what she learns will be as old-fashioned as the hills ina few years. I didn't do the way my mother taught me--husband used tolaugh me out of it. She'll have time enough to learn. "

The tea, a biscuit, and a piece of pie came in in tempting array. AuntPriscilla was at her second cup when Jonas Field arrived, good tenminutes before the time. 

"You come over to-morrow, Betty, " said Aunt Priscilla. "You and Dorothyjust take a run; it'll do you good. That child will turn into a booknext. She's got some of the Adams streaks in her. And girls don't needso much book learning. Solomon's wise, and he don't even know hisletters. "

That made Doris laugh. She was getting quite used to Aunt Priscilla. She rose and made a pretty courtesy, and said she would like to come. 

Polly had forgotten to light the lamp. She had been nursing Solomon, andthe fire had burned low. Aunt Priscilla scolded, to be sure. Polly wasgetting rather deaf as well. 

"It's warm out in the kitchen, " said Polly. 

"I want it warm here. I aint going to begin to save on firing at my timeof life! I have enough to last me out, and I don't suppose anybody willthank me for the rest. Bring in some logs. "

Aunt Priscilla sat with a shawl around her until the cheerful warmthbegan to diffuse itself and the blaze lightened up the room. Polly outin the kitchen was rehearsing her woes to Solomon. 

"It's my 'pinion if missus lives much longer she'll be queerer'n Dick'shatband. That just wouldn't lay anyhow, I've heerd tell, though I don'tknow who Dick was and what he'd been doing, but he was mighty queer. 'Pears to me he must a-lived before the war when General Washingtonlicked the English. And there's no suitin' missus. First it's too hotand you're 'stravagant, then it's too cold and she wants to burn up allthe wood in creation!"

Aunt Priscilla watched the flame of the dancing scarlet, blue, andleaping white-capped arrows that shot up, and out of the side of one eyeshe saw a picture on the end of the braided rug--a little girl with acloud of light curls sitting there with a great gray cat in her lap. Theroom was so much less lonely then. Perhaps she was getting old, realold, with a weakness for human kind. Was that a sign? She did enjoy theruns over to the Leveretts'. What would happen if she should not be ableto go out!

She gave a little shudder over that. Of all the large family of sistersand brothers there was no one living very near or dear to her. She wasnext to the youngest. They had all married, some had died, one brotherhad gone to the Carolinas and found the climate so agreeable he hadsettled there. One sister had gone back to England. There were somenieces and nephews, but in the early part of her married life Mr. Perkins _had_ objected to any of them making a home at his house. "Wehave no children of our own, " he said, "and I take it as a sign that ifthe Lord had meant us to care for any, he would have sent them direct tous, and not had us taking them in at second-hand. "

They had both grown selfish and only considered their own wants andcomforts. But the years of solitude looked less and less inviting to thewoman, who had been born with a large social side that had met with apinch here, been lopped off there, and crowded in another person'smeasure. If the person had not been upright, scrupulously just in hisdealings, and a good provider, that would have altered her respect forhim. And wives were to obey their husbands, just as children weretrained to obey their parents. 

But children were having ideas of their own now. Well, when she wassixteen she went to Marblehead and spent a summer with her sisterEsther, who was having hard times then with her flock of littlechildren, and who a few years after had given up the struggle. Mr. Greenhad married again and gone out to the lake countries and started asawmill, where there were forests to his hand. 

But this long-ago summer had been an epoch in her life. She had bakedand brewed, swept and scrubbed, cooked and put in her spare timespinning, while poor Esther sewed and took care of a very cross pair oftwins and crawled about a little. There had been some merrymaking thatwould hardly have been allowed at home, and a young man who had sat onthe doorstep and talked, who had taken her driving, and with whom shehad wickedly and frivolously danced one afternoon when a party of youngpeople had a merrymaking after the hay was in. It was the only time inher life she had ever danced, and it was a glimpse of fairy delight toher. But she was frightened half to death when she came home, and beganto have two sides to her life, and she had never gotten rid of the otherside. 

She had a vague idea that next summer she would go again. Meanwhile Mr. Perkins began to come. There was an older sister, and no one surmised itwas Priscilla, until in March, when he spoke to Priscilla's father. 

"I declare I was clear beat, " said the worthy parent. "Seems to meMartha would be more suitable, but his heart's set on Priscilla. He's agood, steady man, forehanded and all that, and will make her a goodhusband, and she'll keep growing older. There is nothing to say againstit. "

The idea that Priscilla would say anything was not entertained for amoment. Mr. Perkins began to walk home from church with her and come totea on Sunday evening, and it was soon noised about that they werekeeping steady company. Martha went to Marblehead that summer and one ofthe twins died. In the fall Priscilla was married and went tohousekeeping in King Street, over her husband's place of business. Shewas engrossed with her life, but she dreamed sometimes of the other sideand the young man who had remarked upon the gowns she wore and put rosesin her hair, and she had ideas of lace and ribbons and the vanities ofthe world in that early married period. Her attire was rich but severelyplain; she was not stinted in anything. She was even allowed to "lay by"on her own account, which meant saving up a little money. She made agood, careful wife. And some months before he died, touched by herattentive care, her husband said:

"Silla, I don't see but you might as well have all I'm worth, as todivide it round in the family. They will be disappointed, I suppose, butthey haven't earned nor saved. You have been a good wife, and you justtake your comfort on it when I'm gone. Then if you should feel minded togive back some of it--why, that's your affair. "

The Perkins family had _not_ liked it very well. They knew AuntPriscilla would marry again, and all that money go to a second husband. But she had not married, though there had been opportunities. Later onshe almost wished she had. She had entertained plans of taking a girl tobring up, and had considered this little orphaned Adams girl, --who shehad imagined in a vague way would be glad of a good home with a prospectof some money, --if she behaved herself rightly. She had pictured astout, red-cheeked girl who needed training, and not a fine little ladylike Doris Adams. 

But she was glad Doris had sat there on the rug with the cat in her lap. And she was glad there had been the summer at Marblehead, and the youngman who had said more with his eyes than with his lips. He had nevermarried, and had been among the earliest to lay down his life for hiscountry. She always felt that in a way he belonged to her. And if inyouth she had had one good time, why shouldn't Betty? Perhaps Bettymight marry in some sensible way that would be for the best, and thisvisit at Hartford would illume all her life. 

There were things about it she had never confessed. When her conscienceupbraided her mightily she called them sins and prayed over them. Therewere other matters--the white bonnet had been one. She had purchased itof a friend who was going in mourning, who had made her try it on, andsaid:

"Just look at yourself in the glass, Priscilla Perkins. You never hadanything half so becoming. You look five years younger!"

She did look in the glass. She could have pirouetted around the room indelight. She was in love with her pretty youthful face. 

So she bought the hat--at a bargain, of course. She put it away when itcame home, and visited it surreptitiously, but somehow never had thecourage to confess, or to propose wearing it, though other women of herage indulged in as much and more gayety. In the spring she bought a newsilk gown, a gray with a kind of lilac tint, and cut off the breadths tomake sure of it. 

Mr. Perkins viewed it critically. 

"I'm not quite certain, Priscilla, that it is appropriate. And a brownwould give you so much more good wear. It looks too--too youthful. "

He never remembered there were fifteen years between himself andPriscilla. 

"I--I think I would change it. "

"Oh, " with the best accent of regret she could assume, "I have cut offthe breadths and begun to sew them up. It's the spring color. And summeris coming. "

"Uu--um----" with a reluctant nod. 

She wore it to a christening and a wedding, but the real delight in ithad to be smothered. And when her husband proposed she should have itdyed she laid it away. 

There were other foolish indulgences. Bows and artificial flowers thatshe had put on bonnets and worn in her own room with locked doors, thenpulled them off and laid them away. She was so fond of pretty things, gay things, the pleasures of life--and she was always relegated to theprose! Other people wore finery with a serene calmness, and went abouttheir daily duties, to church, on missions of mercy, and were wellthought of. Where was the sin? Her clothes cost quite as much. Mr. Perkins was a close manager but not stingy with his wife. 

She used to think she would confess to her mother about the dancing, butshe never had. She ought to bring out these "sins of the eye" and laythem before her husband, but she never found the right moment and thecourage. She had meant to deal them out to the Leverett girls, especially Electa--but Electa seemed to prosper so amazingly! She _must_do something with them, and clear up her life, sweep, and garnish beforethe summons came. She was getting to be old now, and if she went offsuddenly someone would come in and take possession and scatter hertreasures. Likely as not it would be the Perkinses, for she hadn't madeany will. 

Why shouldn't Betty have some of them and go off on her good time. Itwouldn't be housekeeping and spinning and looking after fractiouschildren. But those evenings out on the stoop, and the timid invitationsto take a walk, the pressure of the hand, the smile out of the eyes--oh, why----

All her life she had been asking "Why?"--taking the hard and distastefulbecause she thought there was a virtue in it, not because she had beentrained to believe goodness must have a severe side and that reallypleasant things were wicked. The "Whys" had never been answered, much asshe had prayed about them. 

She would never take the girl to bring up now. As for DorisAdams--Cousin Winthrop would be thinking presently that the groundwasn't good enough for her to walk on. So there was only Betty, unlessshe took up some of the Perkins girls. Abby was rather nice. But, afterall, her father was only a half-brother to Aunt Priscilla's husband. Andshe must make that will. 

"Missus, aint you goin' to come to supper? I told you 'twas ready fullfive minutes ago, " said an aggrieved voice. 

Aunt Priscilla sprang up and gave herself a kind of mental shaking. Shestepped around to avoid the little girl on the rug with the cat in herlap. Polly went on grumbling. The toast was cold, the tea had drawn toolong, and for once the mistress never said a word in dispraise. 

"She's goin' off, " thought Polly. "That's a bad sign, though she doessit over the fire a good deal, and you can't tell by that. Land alive! Ihope she'll live my time out, or I'll sure have to go to the poorhouse!"

Aunt Priscilla went back to her fire and the vision of the little girlwho had made a curious impression on her by a kind of sweetness quitenew in her experience. It had disturbed her greatly. Nothing about thechild had been as she supposed. 

Everybody went down to her, which meant that she had some subtle, indescribable charm, but Aunt Priscilla would have said she had nodictionary words to explain it, though there had been a speller anddefiner in her day. 

The little girl had come to "seven times" in the tables. She had studiedan hour, when Betty said they had better go and get back by dark. Jamieboy gave a little "snicker" as she shut her book. The disdain of heryoung compeer was quite hard to bear, but she meekly accepted the factthat she "wasn't smart. " If she had known how he longed to go with them, she would have felt quite even, but he kept that to himself. 

All Boston was still hooded in snow, for every few days there came anew fall. Oh, how beautiful it was! Everybody walked in the middle ofthe street, --it was so hard and smooth, --though you had to keep turningout for vehicles, but one didn't meet them very often. 

Boots were not made high for girls and women then, but everybody had apair of thick woolen stockings, some of them with a leather sole on theoutside, which was more durable. The children pulled them well up overtheir knees and kept good and warm. Some people had leather leggings, but rubber boots had not been invented. 

Boys were out snowballing--girls, too, for that matter. Someone sent aball that flew all over Doris, but she only laughed. She snowballed withlittle James now and then. 

So they were bright and merry when they reached the sign of "JonasField, " and Doris gave her pretty, rather formal greeting. She was neverquite sure of Aunt Priscilla. 

"I suppose _you_ came to see Solomon!" exclaimed that lady. 

"Not altogether, " replied Doris. 

"Well, he is out in the kitchen. And, Betty, what is the prospectto-day?"

"Oh, Aunt Priscilla, I almost think I'll get off. Father is on my side, and mother did really promise 'Lecty last summer. Mother couldn't getalong alone, you know, and Jimmie boy is doing so well at school thatshe would like to keep him all winter. Father knows of a girl who wouldbe very glad to come in and work for three dollars a month, though hesays everybody gives four or more. But Mr. Eastman will be here so soon. Father said I might get some things in Hartford. "

"We'll see what Boston has first, " returned Aunt Priscilla with a littlesnort. "I've been hunting over _my_ things. "

People in those days thought it a great favor to have clothes left tothem, as you will see by old wills. And occasionally the grandmothersbrought out garments beforehand, and did not wait until they were deadand gone. 

"I have a silk gown that I never wore above half a dozen times. I couldhave it dyed, I suppose, but they're so apt to get stringy afterward. Maybe you wouldn't like it because it's a kind of gray. You're free toleave it alone. I shan't be a mite put out. "

The old spirit of holding on reasserted itself. Of course, if Bettydidn't like it, _her_ duty would be done. 

"Oh, Aunt Priscilla! It looks like moonlight over the harbor. It'sbeautiful. "

The elder woman had shaken it out and made ripples with it, and Bettystood in admiring wonderment. It looked to her like a wedding gown, butshe knew Aunt Priscilla's had been Canton crape, dyed brown first andthen black and then worn out. There was an old adage to the effect thatone never could get rich until one's wedding clothes were worn out. 

"It's spotted some, I find--just a faint kind of yellow, but that maycut out. I never had any good of it, " and she sighed. "It isn't what youmight call gay; but, land alive! I might as well have bought bright red!There's plenty of it to make over. They weren't wearing such skimpingskirts then, and I had an extra breadth put in so that it would all fadealike. Well----" And she gave a half-reluctant sigh. 

"Why, I feel as if it ought to be saved for a wedding gown, " declaredBetty, her eyes alight with pleasure. "It's the most beautiful thing. Oh, Aunt Priscilla!"

A modern girl would have thrown her arms around Aunt Priscilla's neckand kissed her, if one could imagine a modern girl being grateful for agown a quarter of a century old, except for masquerading purposes. People who could remember the great Jonathan Edwards awakening stillclassed all outward demonstrations of regard as carnal affections to besubdued. The poor old life hungered now for a little human love withoutunderstanding what its want really was, just as it had hungered for morethan half a century. 

"Well, child, maybe 'Lecty can plan to make something out of it. Youbetter just take it to her. And here's a box of ribbons, things I've hadno use for this many a year. You see I had a way of saving up--I didn'thave much call for wearing such. "

Aunt Priscilla felt that she was renouncing idols. How many times shehad fingered these things with exquisite love and longing and a desireto wear them! Madam Bowdoin, almost ten years older, wore her fineribbons and laces and her own snowy white hair in little rings about herforehead. No one accused her of aping youth. Aunt Priscilla had worn afalse front under her cap for many a year that was now a rusty, fadedbrown. Her own white hair was cut off close. 

"Oh, Aunt Priscilla, I think my ship has come in from the Indies. Inever can thank you enough. I'm so glad you saved them. You see, times_are_ hard, and if father had to pay a girl for taking my place at home, he wouldn't feel that he could afford me much finery. And the journey, too. But I have only to pay from Springfield to Boston, for Mr. Eastmanhas his own conveyance--a nice big covered sleigh. And now all thesebeautiful things! I feel as rich as a queen. "

Doris had been standing there big-eyed and never once asked for Solomon. 

Aunt Priscilla began to fold the gown. It still had a crackle andrustle delightful to hear. And there was a roll of new pieces. 

"Why, next summer I could have a lovely drawn bonnet--only it _does_cost so much to have one made. I wish I knew how, " said Betty. 

"I suppose--you don't want to see my old thing?" rather contemptuously. 

"The hat, do you mean? Oh, I just should! I've thought so much about it, and how queer it is that old-fashioned articles should come round. "

"Every seven years, people say; but I don't believe it's quite as oftenas that. "

From the careful way it was pinned up, one would never imagine it hadbeen out that very morning. The bows were filled with paper to keep themup, and bits of paper crumpled up around, so they could not be crushed. Its days of whiteness were over, but it was the loveliest, softest creamtint, and looked as if it had just come over from France. The beaver wasalmost like plush, and the puffed satin lining inside was as fresh as ifits reverse plaits had just been laid in place. 

"Oh, do put it on!" cried Doris eagerly. 

Betty held the strings together under her fair round chin. 

"You look like a queen!" said the child admiringly. 

"Why it _is_ just as they are wearing them now, the tip-top style. 'Lecty couldn't have described this hat any better if she had seen it. And if I can have it, Aunt Priscilla, I shall not care a bit aboutfeathers. It's beautiful enough without. "

"Yes, yes, take them all and have a good time with them. Now you see ifyou can pack it up--you'll have to learn. "

Aunt Priscilla dropped into her chair. She had cast out her life'stemptations, and it had been a great struggle. 

"Not that way--make the bow stand up. The bandbox is large enough. Andgive the strings a loose fold, so. Now put that white paper over. It'slike making a gambrel roof. Then bring up the ends of the towel and pinthem. Polly shall go along and carry it home for you. "

"I'm a thousand times obliged. I wish I knew what to do in return. "

"Have a good time, but don't forget that a good time is not all to life. Child--why do you look at me so?" for Doris had come close to AuntPriscilla and seemed studying her. 

"Were you ever a little girl, and what was your good time like?"

Doris' wondering eyes were soft and seemed more pitying than curious. 

"No, I never was a little girl. There were no little girls in my time. "She jerked the words out in a spasmodic way, and put her hand to herheart as if there was a pain or pressure. "When I was three year old Ihad to take care of my little brother. I stood up on a bench to washdishes when I was four, and scoured milk-pans and the pewter plates weused then. And at six I was spinning on the little wheel and knittingstockings. I went to school part of every year, and at thirteen I wasdoing a woman's work. No, I never was a little girl. "

Doris put her soft hand over the one that had been strained and madecoarse and large in the joints, and roughened as to skin while yet itwas in its tender youth. And all the pay there had been from herfather's estate had been three hundred dollars to each girl, theremainder being divided evenly among the boys. She felt suddenlygrateful to Hatfield Perkins for the easier times of her married life. 

"Now, both of you go out in the kitchen and get a piece of Polly's freshgingerbread. She hasn't lost her art in that yet. Then you must run offhome, for it will soon be dark, and Betty will be needed about thesupper. "

The gingerbread was splendid. Doris broke off little crumbs and fed themto Solomon, and told him sometime she would come and spend the afternoonwith him. She should be so lonesome when Betty went away. 

Polly carried the bandbox and bundle for them, and Betty took the box ofribbons. Aunt Priscilla brought out the light-stand and set her candleon it and turned over the leaves of her old Bible to read about thedaughters of Zion with their tinkling feet and their cauls and theirround tires like the moon, the chains and the bracelets and the bonnets, the earrings, the mantles, the wimples and the crisping pins, the finelinen and the hoods and the veils--and all these were to be done awaywith! To be sure she did not really know what they all were, but her fewhad been snares and a source of secret idolatry for years and years. Shehad nothing to do now but to consider the end of all things and preparefor it. But there was the dreaded will yet to make. If only there wassomeone who really cared about her!

CHAPTER X

CONCERNING MANY THINGS

When Providence overruled, in the early part of the century, peoplegenerally gave in. The stronger tide was called Providence. Perhapsthere was a small degree of fatalism in it. So Mrs. Leverett acquiesced, and recalled the fact that she had promised Electa that Betty shouldcome. 

Aunt Priscilla's generosity was astonishing. The silken gown would notbe made over until Betty reached Hartford. She worked industriously onher white one, but her mother found so many things for her to do. ThenMartha Grant came--a stout, hearty, pink-cheeked country girl who knewhow to "take hold, " and was glad of an opportunity to earn somethingtoward a wedding gown. Doris was so interested that she hardlyremembered how much she should miss Betty, though Warren promised tohelp her with her lessons. 

So the trunk was packed. Luckily the bandbox could go in it, for it wasquite small. Most of the bandboxes were immense affairs in which youcould stow a good many things besides the bonnet. Then they had a calicocover with a stout cord run through the hem. 

Mr. Eastman looked rather askance at the trunk--he had so many budgetsof his own, and for his wife. However, they strapped it on the backsecurely, and the good-bys were uttered for a whole month. 

Doris had said hers in the morning. She could not divest herself of avague presentiment that something would happen to keep Betty untilto-morrow. But Martha was to sit in her place at the table. 

Now that the reign of slavery was over, the farmers' girls from thecountry often came in for a while. They were generally taken in as oneof the family--indeed, few of them would have come to be put down to thelevel of a common servant. Many had their old slaves still living withthem, and numbers of the quality preferred colored servants. 

Jamie boy went out to snowball after dinner. Doris worked a line acrossher sampler. She was going to begin the alphabet next. There were threekinds of letters. Ordinary capitals like printing, small letters, andwriting capitals. These were very difficult, little girls thought. 

She put up her work presently, studied her spelling, and went over "ninetimes. " She could say the ten and eleven perfectly, but that very dayshe had missed on "nine times, " and Mrs. Webb told her she had betterstudy it a little more. 

"I do wonder if you will ever get through with the multiplicationtables!" said Aunt Elizabeth. 

Doris sighed. It was hard to be so slow at learning. 

"'Nine times' floored me pretty well, I remember, " confessed MarthaGrant. "There's great difference in children. Some have heads forfigures and some don't. My sister Catharine could go all round me. Butshe's that dumb about sewing--I don't believe you ever saw the beat! Shejust hates it. She'd like to teach school!"

Doris was very glad to hear that someone else had been slow. 

Betty had been out to tea occasionally, and Doris tried to make believeit was so now. They would have missed her more but Martha was a greattalker. There were seven children at the Grants', and one son married. They had a big farm and a good deal of stock. Martha's lover had boughta farm also, with a small old house of two rooms. _He_ had to build anew barn, so they would wait for their house. She had a nice cow she hadraised, a flock of twelve geese, and her father had promised her the oldmare and another cow. She wanted to be married by planting time. She hada nice feather bed and two pairs of pillows and five quilts, beside twowool blankets. 

Mrs. Leverett was a good deal interested in all this. It took her backto her own early life. City girls _did_ come to have different ideas. There was something refreshing in this very homeliness. 

Martha knit and sewed as fast as she talked. Mrs. Leverett said "shedidn't let the grass grow under her feet, " and Doris wondered if shewould tread it out in the summer. Of course, it couldn't grow in thewinter. 

"Aunt Elizabeth, " she said presently, in a sad little voice, "am I tosleep all alone?"

"Oh dear, no. You would freeze to an icicle. Martha will take Betty'splace. "

They wrapped up a piece of brick heated pretty well when Doris went tobed. For it was desperately cold. But the soft feathers came up allaround one, and in a little while she was as warm as toast. She did noteven wake when Martha came to bed. Sometimes Betty cuddled the dearlittle human ball, and only half awake Doris would return the hug andfind a place to kiss, whether it was cheek or chin. 

"Aunt Elizabeth, " when she came in from school one day, "do you knowthat Christmas will be here soon--next Tuesday?"

"Well, yes, " deliberately, "it is supposed to be Christmas. "

"But it really is, " with child-like eagerness. "The day on which Christwas born. "

"The day that is kept in commemoration of the birth of Christ. But somepeople try to remember every day that Christ cams to redeem the world. So that one day is not any better than another. "

Doris looked puzzled. "At home we always kept it, " she said slowly. "Miss Arabella made a Christmas cake and ever so many little ones. Theboys came around to sing Noël, and they were given a cake and a penny, and we went to church. "

"Yes; it is quite an English fashion. When you are a larger girl andmore used to our ways you will understand why we do not keep it. "

"Don't you really keep it?" in surprise. 

"No, my dear. "

The tone was kind, but not encouraging to further enlightenment. Dorisexperienced a great sense of disappointment. For a little while she wasvery homesick for Betty. To have her away a whole month! And a curiousthing was that no one seemed really to miss her and wish her back. Mrs. Leverett scanned the weather and the almanac and hoped they would getsafely to Springfield without a storm. Mr. Leverett counted up the time. It had not stormed yet. 

No Christmas and no Betty. Not even a wise old cat like Solomon, or aplayful, amusing little kitten. The school children stared when shetalked about Christmas. 

Two big tears fell on her book. She was frightened, for she had notmeant to cry. And now a sense of desolation rushed over her. Oh, whatcould she do without Betty!

Then a sleigh stopped at the door. She ran to the window, and when shesaw that it was Uncle Winthrop she was out of the door like a flash. 

"Well, little one?" he said in pleasant inquiry, which seemed tocomprehend a great deal. "How do you get along without Betty? Come inout of the cold. I've just been wondering if you would like to come overand keep Christmas with me. I believe they do not have any Christmashere. "

"No, they do not. Oh, Uncle Win, I should be so glad to come, if Iwouldn't trouble you!"

The eyes were full of entreating light. 

"I have been thinking about it a day or two. And Recompense is quitewilling. The trouble really would be hers, you know. "

"I would try and not make any trouble. "

"Oh, it was where we should put you to sleep this cold weather. Youwould be lost in the great guest chamber. But Recompense arranged itall. She has put up a little cot in the corner of her room. I insistedlast winter that she should keep a fire; she is a little troubled withrheumatism. And now she enjoys the warmth very much. "

"Oh, how good you are!"

She was smiling now and dancing around on one foot. He smiled too. 

"Where's Aunt Elizabeth?" said Uncle Winthrop. 

Doris ran to the kitchen and, not seeing her, made the same inquiry. 

"She's gone up to the storeroom to find a lot of woolen patches for me, and I'm going to start another quilt. She said she'd never use them inthe days of creation, and they wan't but six. She'll be down in aminute, " said Martha. 

"Uncle Winthrop, " going back to him beside the fire, and wrinkling upher brow a little, "is not Christmas truly Christmas? Has anyone made amistake about it?"

"My child, everybody does not keep it in the same manner. Sometime youwill learn about the brave heroes who came over and settled in a strangeland, fought Indians and wild beasts, and then fought again for liberty, and why they differed from their brethren. But I always keep it; and Ithought now that Betty was gone you might like to come and go to churchwith me. "

"Oh, I shall be glad to!" with a joyful smile. 

Aunt Elizabeth entered. Cousin Winthrop presented his petition that heshould take Doris over this afternoon and bring her back on Wednesday, unless there was to be no school all the week. 

"I'm afraid she will bother Recompense. You're so little used tochildren. I keep my hand in with grandchildren, " smilingly. 

"No word from Betty yet? About Doris now--oh, you need not be afraid; Ithink Recompense is quite in the notion. "

"Well, if you think best. Doris isn't a mite of trouble, I will saythat. No, we can't hear from Betty before to-morrow. Mr. Eastman thoughtlikely he'd find someone coming right back from Springfield, and Icharged Betty to send if she could. I'm glad there has been no snow sofar. "

"Very fair winter weather. How is Foster and business?"

"Desperately dull, both of them, " and Mrs. Leverett gave a piquant nodthat would have done Betty credit. 

"Go get your other clothes, Doris, and Martha will see to you. And twowhite aprons. Recompense keeps her house as clean as a pink, and youcouldn't get soiled if you rolled round the floor. But dirt doesn'tstick to Doris. There, run along, child. "

Martha scrubbed her rigorously, and then helped her dress. She came backbright as a new pin, with her two high-necked aprons in her hand, andher nightgown, which Aunt Elizabeth put in her big black camlet bag. 

"I wish you'd see that she studies a little, Winthrop. She is so behindin some things. "

He nodded. Then Doris put on her hood and cloak and said good-by toMartha, while she kissed Aunt Elizabeth and left a message for the rest. 

"It's early, so we will take a little ride around, " he said, wrappingher up snug and warm. 

The plan had been in his mind for several days. The evening before hehad broached it to Recompense. Not but what he was master in his ownhouse, but he hardly knew how to plan for a child. 

"If Doris was a boy I could put him on the big sofa in my room. Still, Cato can look after a fire in the guest chamber. It would be too cruelto put a child alone in that great cold barn. "

There was a very obstinate impression that it was healthy to sleep incold rooms, so people shut themselves up pretty close, and sometimesdrew the bedclothes over their heads. But Winthrop Adams had a ratherluxurious side to his nature; he called it a premonition of old age. Hekept a fire in his dressing room, where he often sat and read a while atnight. His sleeping room adjoined it. 

"Why, we might bring a cot in my room, " she said. "I remember how thechild delights in a fire. She's such a delicate-looking little thing. "

"She is standing our winter very well and goes to school every day. I'mafraid she might disturb you?"

"Not if she has a bed by herself. And there is the corner jog; the cotwill just fit into it. "

When they put it there in the morning it looked as if it must have takenroot long ago. Then Recompense arranged a nice dressing table with awhite cover and a pretty bowl and ewer, and a low chair beside itcovered with chintz cushions. Her own high-post bedstead had curtainsall around it of English damask, and the curiously carved high-backchairs had cushions tied in of the same material. There was no carpet onthe painted floor, but a rug beside the bed and one at the stand, and agreat braided square before the fire. It was a well-furnished room forthe times, though that of Mr. Adams was rather more luxurious. 

He was very glad that Recompense had assented so readily, for he wasbeginning to feel that he ought to take a deeper interest in his littleward. 

There were numberless sleighs out on some of the favoritethoroughfares. For even now, in spite of the complaints of hard times, there was a good deal of real wealth in Boston, fine equipages withcolored coachmen and footmen. There were handsome houses with lawns andgardens, some of them having orchards besides. There were richfurnishings as well, from France and England and from the East. Therewere china and plate and glass proud of their age, having come throughseveral generations. 

And though there were shades and degrees of social position, there was afine breeding among the richer people and a kind of pride among thepoorer ones. There were occasions when they mingled with an agreeablecourtesy, yet each side kept its proper and distinctive relations; realworth was respected and dignified living held in esteem. From aprinter's boy, Benjamin Franklin had stood before kings and added lusterto his country. From a farm at Braintree had come one of the famousAdamses and his not less notable wife, who had admirably filled theposition of the first lady of the land. 

Yet the odd, narrow, crooked streets of a hundred years before wererunning everywhere, occasionally broadened and straightened. There werestill wide spaces and pasture fields, declivities where the barberrybush and locust and May flower grew undisturbed. There were quaint nookswith legends, made famous since by eloquent pens; there were curious oldshops designated by queer sign and symbols. 

But even the pleasures were taken in a leisurely, dignified way. Therewas no wild rush to stand at the head or to outdo a neighbor, orastonish those who might be looking on and could not participate. 

Doris enjoyed it wonderfully. She had a sudden accession of subtle pridewhen some fine old gentleman bowed to Uncle Win, or a sleigh full ofelegantly attired ladies smiled and nodded. There were large hatsframing in pretty faces, and bows and nodding plumes on the top such asMrs. King had written about. Oh, how lovely Betty would look in hers!What was Hartford like; and New Haven, with its college; then, fartheron, New York; and Washington, where the Presidents lived while they heldoffice? She was learning so many things about this new home. 

Over here on the Common the boys were drawn up in two lines andsnowballing as if it was all in dead earnest. And this was the ramblingold house with its big porch and stepping block, and its delightfulwelcome. 

"Are you not most frozen?" asked Miss Recompense. "Here is the fire youlike so much. Take off your cloak and hood. We are very glad to have youcome and make us a visit. "

"Oh, are you?" Doris' face was a gleam of delight. "And I am glad tocome. I was beginning to feel dreadfully lonesome without Betty. I oughtnot when there were so many left, " and a bright color suffused her face. "Then there is little James. "

"And we have no small people. "

"I never had any over home, you know. And so many people here have suchnumbers of brothers and sisters. It must be delightful. "

"But they are not all little at once. "

"No, " laughed Doris. "I should like to be somewhere in the middle. Babies are so cunning, when they don't cry. "

Miss Recompense smiled at that. 

There was a comfortable low chair for Doris, and Uncle Win found herseated there, the ruddy firelight throwing up her face like a painting. Miss Recompense went out to see about the supper. There was agood-natured black woman in the kitchen to do the cooking, and Cato, whodid the outside work and waited on Dinah and Miss Recompense--a tall, sedate, rather pompous colored man. 

Some indefinable charm about the house appealed to Doris. The table wasarranged in such an attractive manner. Nothing could be more delightfulthan Aunt Elizabeth's cooking, but she stopped short at an invisiblesomething. The china was saved for company, though there was one prettycup they always gave to Aunt Priscilla. The everyday dishes wereearthen, such as ordinary people used, and being of rather poor glazethey soon checked. Doris knew these pretty plates and the tall cream jugand sugar dish had not been brought out especially for her, though shehad supposed they were when they all came over to a company tea. 

She started so when Uncle Winthrop addressed her in French, and glancedat him in amaze; then turned to a pink glow and laughed as she collectedher scattered wits to answer. 

What a soft, exquisite accent the child had! Miss Recompense paused inher pouring tea to listen. 

Uncle Win smiled and continued. They were around the pretty tea table ina sort of triangle. Uncle Win passed the thin, dainty slices of bread. Miss Recompense, when she was done with the tea, passed the coldchicken. Then there were cheese and two kinds of preserves, plain cakeand fruit cake. 

Children rarely drank tea, so Doris had some milk in a glass which wascut with just a sparkle here and there that the light caught and madebrilliant. 

"How you _can_ understand any such talk as that beats me, " said MissRecompense in a sort of helpless fashion as she glanced from one to theother. 

"And if we were abroad talking English the forsigners would say the samething, " replied Mr. Adams. 

"But there is some sense in English. "

He laughed a little. "And if we lived in China we would think there wasa good deal of sense in Chinese, which is said to be one of the queerestlanguages in the world. "

We did not know very much about China in those days, and our knowledgewas chiefly gleaned from rather rude maps and some old histories, andthe wonderful tales of sea captains. 

"It would be a pity for you to fall back when you are such a goodscholar, " Uncle Win said, looking over to Doris. "One forgets quiteeasily. I find I am a little lame. But you like your school, and it isnear by this cold weather. Perhaps you and I can keep up enough interestto exercise our memories. You have some French books?"

"Two or three. I tried to read 'Paul and Virginia' to Betty, but it tookso long to tell the story over that she didn't get interested. Therewere so many lessons, too. "

She did not say that Aunt Elizabeth had discountenanced it. People werehorrified by French novels in those days. Rousseau and Voltaire had beenheld in some degree responsible for the terrible French Revolution. Andpeople shuddered at the name of Tom Paine. 

At first the Colonies, as they were still largely called, had been verymuch interested in the new French Republic. Lafayette had been soimpressed with the idea of a government of the people when he had lenthis assistance to America, that he had joined heartily in a plan for theregeneration of France. But after the king was executed, Sundayabolished, and the government passed into the hands of tyrants whoshouted "liberty" and yet brought about the slavery of terror, he andmany others had stood aside--indeed, left their beloved city to the mob. Then had come the first strong and promising theories of Napoleon. Hehad been first Consul, then Consul for life, then Emperor, and was nowthe scourge of Europe. 

To Mrs. Leverett all French books were as actors and plays, to beshunned. That any little girl should have read a French story or be ableto repeat French verses was quite horrifying. She had a feeling that itreally belittled the Bible to appear in the French language. 

"Yes, " returned Uncle Winthrop assentingly. He could understand thesituation, for he knew Mrs. Leverett's prejudices were very strong, andcontinuous. That she was a thoroughly good and upright woman he readilyadmitted. 

The supper being finished they went to the cozy hall fire again. You hadto sit near it to keep comfortable, for the rooms were large in thosedays and the outer edges chilly. Some people were putting up greatstoves in their halls and the high pipes warmed the stairs and allaround. 

Miss Recompense brought out some knitting. She was making a spread insmall squares, --red, white, and blue, --and it would be very fine when itwas done. Doris was very much interested when she laid down the squaresto display the pattern. 

"I suppose you knit?" remarked Miss Recompense. 

"No. I don't know how. Betty showed me a little. And Aunt Elizabeth isgoing to teach me to make a stocking. It seems very easy when you seeother people do it, " and Doris sighed. "But I am afraid I am not verysmart about a good many things besides tables. "

That honest admission rather annoyed Uncle Win. Elizabeth had said it aswell. For his part he did not see that reading the Bible through by thetime you were eight years old and knitting a pile of stockings was proofof extraordinary ability. 

"What kind of fancy work can you do?" asked Miss Recompense. 

"I've begun a sampler. That isn't hard. And Miss Arabella taught me tohem and to darn and to make lace. "

"Make lace! What kind of lace?"

"Like the beautiful lace Madam Sheafe makes. Only I never did any sowide. But Miss Arabella used to. Betty took me there one afternoon. Madam Sheafe has such a lovely little house. And, oh, Uncle Win, she cantalk French a little. "

He smiled and nodded. 

"You see, " began Doris with sweet seriousness, "there was no one to makeshirts for, and I suppose Miss Arabella thought it wasn't worth while. But I hemmed some on Uncle Leverett's, and Aunt Elizabeth said it wasvery nicely done. "

"I dare say. " She looked as if anything she undertook would be nicelydone, Miss Recompense thought. 

"Betty was learning housekeeping when she went to Hartford. I think thatis very nice. To make pies and bread and cake, and roast chickens andturkeys and everything. But little girls have to go to school first. Sixyears is a long time, isn't it?"

A half-smile crossed the grave face of Miss Recompense. 

"It seems a long time to a little girl, no doubt, but when you are olderit passes very rapidly. There are years that prove all too short for thework crowded in them, and then they begin to lengthen again, though Isuppose that is because we no longer hurry to get a certain amount ofwork done. "

"I wish the afternoons could be longer. "

"They will be in May. I like the long afternoons too, though the winterevenings by a cheerful fire are very enjoyable. "

"The world is so beautiful, " said Doris, "that you can hardly tell whichyou do like best. Only the summer, with its flowers and the sweet, greenout-of-doors, fills one with a kind of thanksgiving. Why did they nothave Thanksgiving in the summer?"

"Because we give thanks for a bountiful harvest. "

"Oh, " Doris responded. 

Uncle Winthrop watched her as she chattered on, her voice like a soft, purling rill. Presently Dinah called Miss Recompense out in the kitchento consult her about the breakfast, for she went to bed as soon as shehad the kitchen set to rights. Then Doris glanced over to him in a shy, asking fashion, and brought her chair to his side. He inquired aboutFather Langhorne, and found he had been educated in Paris, and wasreally a Roman priest. 

Perhaps it was the province of childhood to see good in everybody. Orwas it due to the simple life, the absence of that introspection, whichhad already done so much to make the New England consciencesupersensitive and strenuous. 

When Miss Recompense returned she found them deep in French again. Dorislaughed softly when Uncle Winthrop blundered a little, and perhaps hedid it now and then purposely. 

The big old clock that said "Forever, never!" long before Longfellow'stime, measured off nine hours. 

"It's funny, " said Doris, "but I'm not a bit sleepy, and at UncleLeverett's I almost nod, sometimes. Maybe it's the French. "

"I should not wonder, " and Uncle Win smiled. 

"We will both go--it is about my time, " remarked Miss Recompense. "Youruncle sits up all hours of the night. "

"And would like to sleep all hours of the morning, " he returnedhumorously, "but Miss Recompense won't let me. If she raises her littlefinger the whole house moves. "

"Then she doesn't raise it very often, " said that lady. "But it doesseem a sin to sleep away good wholesome daylight. "

There were some candlesticks on a kind of secretary with a shelf-liketop, and she lighted one, stepping out in the kitchen to see that allwas safe and to bid Cato lock up. When she returned the candle wassending out its cheerful beam, so she nodded to Doris, who saidgood-night to Uncle Winthrop and followed her. 

Doris had an odd, company-like feeling. Her little bed was pretty, andthe room had a fragrance of summer time, of roses and lavender. MissRecompense stirred the fire and put on a big log. Then she sat down bythe stand and read her nightly chapter, turning a little to give Doris akind of privacy. 

"I hope you will sleep well. Your uncle thought you would be lonesome inthe guest chamber. "

"I would ever so much rather be here. And the bed is so small andcunning, just the bed for a little girl. Thank you ever so many times. "

She said her prayers and breathed a soft good-night to the fire. Andthough she did not feel strange nor sleepy, and wondered about Betty anda dozen other things, one of the last remembrances was the glimmer ofthe candle on the wall, and the soft rustling of the blaze, that said"Snow, snow, snow. "

CHAPTER XI

A LITTLE CHRISTMAS

Sure enough, it snowed the next morning--one of the soft, clingingstorms that loaded every branch with a furry aspect, made mounds of theshrubs, and wrapped the south sides of the houses with a mantle ofdazzling whiteness. Now and then a patch fell off, and a long pendantwould swing from the trees, and finally drop. It was a delight to seethem. 

The breakfast was laid on the same small table in use last night, butCato brought in everything hot, and "waited" as Barby used at home. Uncle Winthrop said she looked bright as a rose, and her cheeks had adelicate pink. 

Afterward he invited her in his study and told her she might look aboutand perhaps find a book to entertain herself with while he wrote someletters. 

"Thank you. I hope I shall not disturb you. "

"Oh, no. " He felt somehow he could answer for her. She was so gentle inher movements, and he really wanted to see how he liked having a littlegirl about. There was a vague idea in his mind that he might decide tohave her here some day, since Miss Recompense had taken a sort of fancyto her. 

Oh, what a luxury it was to wander softly about and read titles and lookat bindings and speculate on what she would like! They had very fewbooks at Uncle Leverett's. Some volume of sermons, a few biographiesthat she had found rather dreary, a history of the French-Canadian War, and some of Poor Richard's Almanacs, which she thought the most amusingof all. 

There was a circulating library that Warren patronized occasionally. There was also the nucleus of a free library, but so far people had beentoo busy to think much about reading, except the scholarly minds. Bookswere expensive, too, and very few persons accumulated any stock of them. Of Mr. Adams' collection some had come to him from his father, andCousin Charles, who had been called a "queer stick, " had some English, Latin, and Italian poets that he had bequeathed to the book lover. 

Winthrop Adams was a collector of several things beside books. Now andthen at an auction sale on someone's death he picked up odd articlesthat were of value. And so his study was a kind of conglomerate. He hada cabinet of coins from different parts of the world and curios fromIndia and Egypt. Napoleon's campaign in Egypt had awakened a good dealof interest in the country of the Pharaohs. 

Doris was so still he glanced around presently. She was curled up in thecorner of the chimney, a book on her knees and her head bent over untilthe curls fell about her in a cloud. When Elizabeth had spoken of thebenefit it might be to a growing child to have them cut he had protestedat once. They were rarely beautiful, he decided now, gleaming gold inthe firelight. 

She had a feeling presently that someone was looking at her, so sheraised her head, shook away the curls, and smiled. 

"Did you find something?"

"'The Vicar of Wakefield, ' Uncle Winthrop. Oh, it is delightful! Yousaid I might read anything!" with a touch of hesitation. 

"That was quite a wide permission, " and he smiled. He couldn't see howthat would hurt anyone, but he was not sure of a girl's reading. 

"I opened it at a picture--'Preparing Moses for the Fair. ' It made methink of Betty going to Hartford. It was so interesting to wonder whatyou would do, and then to have things happen just right. Aunt Priscillawas so nice. I thought I couldn't like her at first, but I do now. Youcan't find out all about anyone in a minute, can you?"

"I think not, " rather humorously. 

"So then I turned to the first of the book. And the Vicar's wife musthave known a good deal to read without much spelling. There are someawful hard words in the back of Betty's spelling book. Do you supposeshe learned tables and all that?"

"I don't believe she did. "

"And she could keep house. "

"They were a notable couple. "

He took up his pen again and she turned to her book. 

Suddenly a flood of golden sunshine poured across the floor, fairlydimming the fire. 

"Oh, Uncle Winthrop!" With her book pressed tightly against her body, she flew over to the window like a bird, disturbing nothing, and makingonly a soft flutter. 

"Isn't it glorious!"

The edges of the snow everywhere were illumined with the prismatic raysin proper order. The tree branches caught them, the corners of thehouses, the window hoods, the straggling bushes, the fences. Everywherethe sublime beauty was repeated until everything quivered with theexcess. 

"It is like the New Jerusalem, " she said. 

The air had softened a great deal. The sun on the window panes spoke oflatent warmth. A slight breeze stirred the air, and down came theclinging snow in showers, leaving the trees bare and brown, except thefew evergreens. 

"It is warmer, " Mr. Adams said. "Though it is nearing noon, the warmestpart of the day. And so far you have stood the cold weather very well, little Doris, " smiling down in the eager face. 

"I've snowballed too, and it is real fun. I can slide ever so far, andI've ridden on Jimmie boy's sled. Betty thinks I would soon learn toskate. I would like to very much. "

"Then you must have some skates. "

"But I am afraid Betty may not come home in time to teach me. "

"Someone else might. "

"Do you skate?" in soft inquiry. 

"Not now; I used to. But I am not a young man, and not very energetic. Ilike warm firesides and a nice book. I am afraid I shall make anease-loving old man. "

"But isn't it right to be"--what word would express it?--"happy, comfortable? For why should you try to make anyone happy if it waswrong?"

"It is not wrong. "

The sky was very blue now, and the snow began to have an ethereal look. Cato came out to shovel and clear away some paths. He struck the younghemlocks and firs with a stick and beat the snow out of them. 

"The snow settles in the branches and sometimes freezes and that kills alittle place, " said Uncle Winthrop in answer to the questioning eyes. 

They walked back to the table, with his arm over her shoulder. 

"I am done my writing for to-day, " he began. "I wonder if you would mindanswering a few questions?"

"Oh, no--if I knew the answers, " smilingly. 

"Then tell me first of all how far you went in Latin. This is agrammar. "

She turned some leaves. "I didn't know it very well, " skimming over thepages. "It was not like this book, and"--hanging her head a little--"Idid not like it--that and the sums. "

"Who put you to studying it?"

"Oh, the father did. He said Latin was the key to all other languages. Iwonder how many I shall have to learn? Miss Arabella said it wasfoolishness, except the French. "

"Let me hear you read a little. This is not difficult. "

He was not sure there was any call for a girl to know Latin. Frenchseemed quite necessary. 

She began in a hesitating manner and blundered somewhat at first, but asshe went on gained courage, her voice growing firmer and clearer. 

"Why, that is very well. You ought to be at a higher school than Mrs. Webb's. And now let us consider these dreadful sums. The paper and apencil will do. "

He put down quite a sum in addition. There were several nines and sevensin it. 

She drew a long breath. 

"It is a big sum. I haven't done any as large as that. "

"Well, begin. Add as I call them off. "

Alas! After three figures, in puzzling over an eight, the amount wentout of her mind and she had to begin again. Uncle Winthrop made a markat one figure and put down the amount beside it. After a while shereached the top of the column. Clearly heaven had not meant her for amathematician. There was no rapport between her figures. 

Her eyes were limpid, almost as if there were tears in them. 

"Maybe that was pretty difficult for a little girl. I know most aboutbig boys and young men. "

"Betty just guesses, this way--eight and nine, and it comes quite aseasy as if I had said two and three are five. "

Uncle Win gave his gentle smile and it comforted her greatly. 

"This quickness comes by practice. When you have had six years' studyyou may know as much as Betty in arithmetic, and you will know more insome other branches. "

"If I can just know as much, " she said wistfully. 

Cato gave a gentle rap on the open door. 

"Juno's ready, " he announced. "Will master take little missy out, orshall I go for Master Cary?"

"I had not thought. Would you like to go, Doris?"

Her eyes answered him before she could speak. 

"You may put in the other seat, Cato, and drive. "

Cato bowed in a dignified manner. 

"Now run and bundle up well, " said Uncle Win. 

Miss Recompense seemed to know a good deal about little girls, if shehad none of her own. She tied a soft silk kerchief over Doris' earsbefore she put on her hood. Then she told Dinah to slip the soapstone inthe foot-stove, and drew the long stockings up over her knees. 

"Now you could go up to Vermont and not get cold, " she said pleasantly. 

But after all it was not so very cold. The sun shone in goldenmagnificence and almost dazzled your eyes out. Uncle Win had on hissmoked glasses, and he looked very queer, but she saw other people withthis protection. Some of the glasses were green. 

The streets were really merry. Children were out with sleds, andsnowballing parties were in the field. They went over to State Streetfor the mail. Cato sprang out and returned with quite a budget. Therewas one English letter with a big black seal, but Mr. Adams covered itquickly with the papers and drew the package under the buffalo robe. 

There was a quaint old bookstore in Cornhill with the sign of Heart andCrown, that was quite a meeting place for students and bookish people, and they drove thither. A young lad came running out, making a bow andgreeting his father politely. To have said "Hillo!" in those days wouldhave been horrifying. And to have called one's father the "governor" orthe "old gentleman" would have been little short of a crime. 

"This is the little English cousin, Doris Adams, " said Uncle Win, "andthis is my son Cary. "

Cary made a bow to her and said he was glad to meet her, then inquiredafter his father's health and stepped into the sleigh, picking up thereins and motioning Cato to the other side. 

Oh, how they spun along! Cary said one or two things, but the words werecarried away by the wind. There were sleighs full of ladies andchildren, great family affairs with three seats; there were cutters withsome portly man and a black driver; there were well-known people andunknown people who were to come to the fore in a few years and befamous. 

For Boston was throbbing even then with the mighty changes transformingher into a great city. Although she had suffered severely at the firstof the war and held many priceless memories of it, the early evacuationof the town had left her free for domestic matters, which had prospereddespite poverty and hard times and the great loss of population. Many ofthe old Tory families had returned to England, and the remnants of theprovincial aristocracy were being lessened by death and absorbed bymarriage. The squires and gentry of the small towns, most of themintense patriots, had filled their places and given tone to social life, that was still formal, if some of the old stateliness had slipped away. 

The French Revolution had brought about some other changes. The Statepossessed fine advantages for maritime commerce, and all the seaportswere veritable hives of industry in the early part of the century. Thislaid a foundation of respect for fortunes acquired by energy rather thaninheritance. The United States, being the only neutral nation in thefierce conflicts raging round the world, had been reaping a rich harvestfor several years. Sea captains and merchants had been thrivingsplendidly until the last year or two, when seizures began to be made bythe British Government that roused a ferment of warlike spirit again. 

But while men talked politics the women and those who thought it wiserto take neither side, still amused themselves with card parties, teaparties and dances, with now and then an evening at the theater, anddriving. There were so many fine long roads not yet cut up into blocksthat were great favorites on a day like this. Doris felt theexhilaration and her eyes shone like stars. 

Presently Cary turned, and here they were at Common Street. 

"That has been fine!" he began as he drew up to the door. "It sets yourblood all a-sparkle. Have I taken your breath away, little cousin?"

He came around and offered his hand to his father. Then he lifted Dorisas if she had been a feather, and stood her on the broad porch. Thatrecalled Warren Leverett to her mind. 

"It was splendid, " answered Doris. 

They all walked in together, and Cary shook hands cordially with MissRecompense. 

He was almost as tall as his father, with a fair, boyish face and thicklight hair that did not curl, but tumbled about and was always fallingover his forehead. 

Warren was stouter and had more color, and there was a kind of laughingexpression to his face. Cary's had a certain resolution and thatloftiness we are given to calling aristocratic. 

When Doris had carried the foot-stove to Dinah, and her own wrapsupstairs, she stood for a moment uncertain. Cary and his father weretalking eagerly in the study, so she sat down by the hall fire and beganto think about the Vicar and Mrs. Primrose, and wanted to know whatMoses did at the Fair. She had been at one town fair, but she could notrecall much besides the rather quaintly and gayly dressed crowd. Thenthere was a summons to supper. 

"Oh, " cried Cary, "sit still a moment. You look like a page of MotherGoose. You can't be Miss Muffet, for you have no curds and whey, and youare not Jack Horner----"

She sprang up then and caught Uncle Winthrop's hand. "Nor Mother Goose, "she rejoined laughingly. 

The plates were moved just a little. Cary sat between her and hisfather. 

"I have heard quite a good deal about you, " he began. "Are you French orEnglish?"

She caught a tiny gleam in Uncle Win's eye, and gravely answered inFrench. 

"How do you get along there in Sudbury Street? Who does the talking?" heasked in surprise. 

"We all talk, " she answered. 

He flushed a little and then gave an amused nod. 

"Upon my word, you are not slow, if the weather is cold. And you_parlez-vous_ like a native. Now, if you and father want to say anythingbad about me, you may hope to keep it a secret, but I warn you that Ican understand French to some extent. "

"I shall not say anything bad, " she returned naïvely. Adding, "Why, Idon't know anything bad. "

"Oh, Miss Recompense, isn't it nice to be perfect in someone's eyes?" helaughed. 

"Wait until she has known you several years. "

"But you have known me several years, " appealingly. 

"It is best to begin with an unbiased opinion. "

"I shall get Betty to speak a good word for me. You have confidence inBetty?"

"I love Betty, " Doris said simply. 

"And Boston. That begins with a B too. You must love Boston, and theState of Massachusetts, and the whole United States. And if there comesanother war you must be true to the flag and the country. No skippingoff to England, mind. "

"I couldn't skip across the whole Atlantic. "

"Then you would have to stay. Which is the nicest, Sudbury Street orthis?"

"Cary, you have teased enough, " said his father. 

"I think the out-of-doors of this will be the prettiest in the summer, "replied Doris gravely, "and when I came off the ship I thought theindoors in Sudbury Street just delightful. There was such a splendidfire, and everybody was so kind. "

Cary glanced up at his father, who gave his soft half-smile. 

"You were a brave little girl not to be homesick. "

"I did want to see Miss Arabella, and the pony. I had such a darlingpony. "

"Why, you can have a pony next summer, " said Uncle Win. "I am very fondof riding. "

Doris' face was filled with speechless delight. 

After supper they sat round the fire and Cary asked her about the OldBoston. She had very good descriptive powers. Her life had been socircumscribed there that it had deepened impressions, and the youngfellow listened quite surprised. Like his father he had known verylittle about girls in their childhood. She was so quaintly pretty, too, with the bow of dark ribbon high up on her head, amid the waving lighthair. 

Some time after Uncle Winthrop said:

"Doris, I have a letter from Miss Arabella. Would you not like to comein the study and read it?"

"Oh, yes, " and she sprang up with the lightness of a bird. 

He had cut around the great black seal. Sometime Doris might be glad tohave the letter intact. There were no envelopes then besides those usedfor state purposes. 

"Dear and Respected Sir, " it began in the formal, old-fashioned manner. She had been rejoiced to hear of Doris' safe arrival and continued goodhealth, and every day she saw the wisdom of the change, though she hadmissed the child sorely. Her sister had passed peacefully away soonafter the departure of Doris, a loss to be accepted with resignation, since her life on earth had long ceased to have any satisfaction toherself. Her own health was very much broken, and she knew it would notbe long before she should join those who had preceded her in a betterland. When this occurred there would be some articles forwarded to himfor Doris, and again she commended the little girl to his affectionateinterest and care, and hoped she would grow into a sweet and usefulwomanhood and be all her parents could wish if they had lived. 

"Dear Miss Arabella!" Doris wiped the tears from her eyes. How strangethe little room must look without Miss Henrietta sitting at the windowbabbling of childish things! "And she is all alone with Barby. How sadit must be. I should not like to live alone. "

Unconsciously she drew nearer Uncle Winthrop. He put his arm over hershoulder in a caressing manner, and his heart was moved with sympathyfor the solitary lady across the ocean. 

Doris thought of Aunt Priscilla and wondered whether she ever waslonesome. 

Sunday was still bright, and somehow felt warm when contrasted with thebiting weather of the last ten days. The three went to old TrinityChurch, that stood then on a corner of Summer Street--a plain woodenbuilding with a gambrel roof, quite as old-fashioned inside as out, andeven now three-quarters of a century old. Up to the Revolution the kingand the queen, when there was one, had been prayed for most fervently. The Church conceded this point reluctantly, since there were many whodoubted the success of the struggle. But the clergy had resigned fromKing's Chapel and Christ Church. For a long while afterward Dr. MatherByles had kept himself before the people by his wit and readiness forcontroversy, and the two old ladies, his sisters, were well known fortheir adherence to Royalist costumes and the unction with which theyprayed for the king in their own house--with open windows, in summer. 

In fact, even now Episcopalianism was considered rather foreign than ofa home growth. But there had been such a divergence from the old-timefaiths that people's prejudices were much softened. 

It seemed quite natural again to Doris, and she had no difficulty infinding her places, though Cary offered her his prayer book every time. And it sounded so hearty to say "Amen" to the prayers, to respond to thecommandments, and sing some of the old chants. 

There was a short service in the afternoon, and in the evening she andCary sang hymns. They were getting to be very good friends. Then onChristmas morning they all went again. There was a little "box and fir, "and a branch of hemlock in the corner, but the people of that day wouldhave been horrified at the greenery and the flowers met to hail thebirth of Christ to-day. 

They paused in the vestibule to give each other a cordial greeting, forthe congregation was not very large. 

A fine-looking elderly lady shook hands with Mr. Adams and his son. 

"This is my little niece from abroad, " announced the elder, "another ofthe Adams family. Her father was own nephew to Cousin Charles. Doris, this is Madam Royall. "

"Poor Charles. Yes, I remember him well. Our children spied out thelittle girl in the sleigh with you on Saturday, and made no end ofguesses. Is it the child who attends Mrs. Webb's school? Dorcas Paynegoes there this winter, and she has been teasing to have her namechanged to Doris, which she admires beyond measure. "

"Yes, " answered Doris timidly, as Madam Royall seemed addressing her. "Iknow Dorcas Payne. "

"Oh, Mr. Adams, I have just thought--our children are going to have alittle time to-night--not anything as pretentious as a party, a sort ofChristmas frolic. Will you not come around and bring Cary and the littlegirl? You shall have some Christmas cake and wine with us, Cary can taketea with Isabel and Alice, and the little girl can have a good romp. Please do not refuse. "

Cary flushed. Mr. Adams looked undecided. 

"No, you shall not hunt about for an excuse. Dorcas has talked so muchabout the little girl that we are all curious to see her. Shouldn't youlike a frolic with other little girls, my dear?"

Doris smiled with assenting eagerness. 

"We shall surely look for you. I shall tell them all that you arecoming, and that I have captured little Doris Adams. "

"Very well, " returned Mr. Adams. 

"At four, exactly. The children's supper is at five. "

Doris had tight hold of Uncle Winthrop's hand, and if she had not justcome out of church she must have skipped for very gladness. For DorcasPayne had talked about her cousins, the Royalls, and their charminggrandmother, and the good times they had in their fine large house. 

Uncle Win looked her all over as she sat at the dinner table. She was apretty child, with her hair gathered up high and falling in a goldenshower. Her frock was some gray woolen stuff, and he wondered vaguely ifblue or red would have been better. He had seen little girls in redfrocks; they looked so warm and comfortable in winter. ElizabethLeverett would be shocked at the color, he knew. What made so many womenafraid of it, and why did they cling to dismal grays and browns? Hewished he knew a little more about girls. 

They had a splendid young goose for the Christmas dinner, vegetables andpickles and jellies. Cider was used largely then; no hearty dinner wouldhave been the thing without it. Even the Leveretts used that, while theyfrowned on all other beverages. And then the thick mince pie with acrust that fairly melted before you could chew it! One needed somethingto sustain him through the long cold winter, and the large rooms whereyou shivered if you went out of the chimney corner. 

Doris stole a little while for her enchanting Primrose people, thoughCary kept teasing by saying: "Has Moses gone to the Fair? Just waituntil you see the sort of bargains he makes!"

Uncle Winthrop went out to Miss Recompense. 

"She looks very plain for a little--well, I suppose it _is_ a party, andI dare say there is another frock at the Leveretts'. I think the firsttime I saw her she had on something very pretty--silk, I believe it was. But there is no time to get it. Recompense, if you could find a ribbonor any suitable adornment to brighten her up. In that big bureauupstairs--I wish you would look. "

Years ago the pretty things had been laid away. Recompense went overthem every spring during house-cleaning time, to see that moths had notdisturbed them. Thieves were never thought of. She always touched themwith a delicate regard for the young wife she had never known. 

She put a shawl about her now and went upstairs, unlocked the drawer of"trinkets, " and peered into some of the boxes. Oh, here was a pretty bitof lace, simple enough for a child. White ribbons turned to cream, pale-blue grown paler with age, stiff brocaded ones, and down at thevery bottom a rose color with just a simple silvery band crossing it atintervals. There was enough for a sash and a bow for the hair, and withthe lace tucker it would be all right. 

"Doris, " she called over the baluster. 

"Yes, ma'am, " and Doris came tripping up, book in hand. 

"Your uncle wants you fixed up a bit, " she said, "and as you havenothing here I have looked up a few things. Let me fasten the tucker inyour frock. There, that does look better. Madam Royall is quite dressy, like all fashionable people who go out and have company. I'm not much ofa hand to fix up children, seeing that for years I have had none of itto do. But I guess I can manage to tie the sash. There, I think thatwill do. "

"Oh, how lovely! How good of you, Miss Recompense. "

Recompense Gardiner hated to take the credit for anything she had notdone, but she had to let it go now. 

"How to get this ribbon in your hair! I think it is too wide. "

"Oh, can I have that too? Well, you see, you take up the curls this wayand put the ribbon under. Can it be folded? Then you tie it on the top. "

Miss Recompense did not make a very artistic bow, but Doris looked inthe glass of the dressing table, and pulled and patted it a little, andsaid it was right and that she was a thousand times grateful. 

The sober-minded woman admitted within herself that the child wasgreatly improved. Perhaps gay attire _did_ foster vanity, yet it waspleasant for others to look upon. 

"Run down and ask your uncle if you will do, " exclaimed Miss Recompense, feeling that by his approval she would discharge her conscience from thesin, if sin it were. 

She looked so dainty as she came and stood by him, and asked herquestion with such a bewitching flush, that he kissed her on theforehead for approval. But she put her soft young arms about his neckand kissed him back, and he held her there with a strange new warmthstirring his heart. 

The old Royall house in Summer Street went its way three-quarters of acentury ago. No one dreams now of the beautiful garden that surroundedit, and the blossoming shrubbery and beds of flowers from which nosegayswere sent to friends, and the fruit distributed later on. It was an oldhouse then, a great square, two-story building with a cupola railedaround a flat place at the point of the roof, or what would have beenthe point if carried up. There were some rooms built out at the back, and an arbor--a covered sort of _allée_ where the ladies sat and sewedat times and the children played. Thirty years before there had beenmany a meeting of friends to discuss the state of affairs. There hadbeen disagreements, ruptures, quarrels made and healed. George Royallhad gone back to England. Dwight Royall had fought on the side of the"Rebels. " One daughter had married an English officer who hadsurrendered with Cornwallis and then returned to his native land. Ayounger son had married and died, and left two daughters to his mother'scare, their own mother being dead. A widowed daughter had come home tolive with her four children, the two youngest being girls. Dorcas Paynewas a cousin to them on their father's side. 

There were often guests staying with them, and the old house was stillthe scene of good times, as they were then: friends dropping in andfinding ready hospitality. For though Madam Royall had passed the threescore and ten, she was still intelligent and had been in her earlieryears accomplished. She could play on her old-fashioned spinet for thechildren to dance, and sometimes she sang the songs of her youth, thoughher voice had grown a trifle unsteady in singing. 

The sun was setting the west in a glow of magnificence as they walked upto the Royall house. Madam Royall and her daughter Mrs. Chapman werewaiting to welcome them. 

In this hall was the tall stove that was beginning to do duty for thecheerful hearthfire, and it diffused a delightful atmosphere of warmth. But you could see the blaze in the parlor and the dining room, wheresome friends were already assembled and having a game of cards. Thesideboard, as was the custom then, was set out with a decanter ofMadeira and one of sherry and the glasses, besides a great silver basinfilled with nuts and dried fruit and another dish of crullers. 

On the opposite side of the hall there was a hubbub of children'svoices. Madam Royall ushered Mr. Adams into the dining room, left Caryto the attention of the two girls and their aunt, and took possessionof Doris herself, removing her wraps and handing them to the maid. Thentaking her hand she drew her into the room, kept mostly for dancing andparty purposes. 

CHAPTER XII

A CHILDREN'S PARTY

"This is Doris Adams, a little girl who came from England not long ago. You must make her welcome and show her what delightful children thereare in Boston. These two girls are Helen and Eudora Chapman, mygrandchildren, and the others are grandnieces and friends. Helen, youmust do the honors. "

Dorcas Payne came forward. "She goes to the same school that I do. " Shehad been entertaining the girls with nearly all she knew about Doris. That Mr. Winthrop Adams was her uncle and guardian raised her a gooddeal in the estimation of Dorcas, for even then a man was thoughtunusually well off to be able to live without doing any real business. 

"Would you like to play graces?" asked Eudora. 

"I don't know, " admitted Doris. 

"We were playing. Grace and Molly, you go down that end of the room. Now, this is the way. When Betty tosses it you catch it on the sticks, so. "

It seemed very easy when Eudora caught it and tossed it back, and Bettythrew it again. 

"Now you try, " and she put the sticks in Doris' hands. "Oh, what tinylittle hands you have, and as white as snow!"

Doris blushed. She threw the hoop and it "wabbled, " but Betty, a bright, black-eyed girl, made a lunge or two, and caught it on the tip of onestick, and back it came. Doris was looking at her and never moved herhand. 

"Pick it up and try again, " said Eudora. "That isn't the right way, butwe will excuse you this time. "

Alas! this time Doris ran and brandished her stick in the air to nopurpose. 

"I would rather see you play, " she said. "You are all doing it sobeautifully. "

"Then you stand here and watch. "

It was very fascinating. There were three sets playing. Doris found thatwhen a girl missed she gave up to some other companion. Her eyes couldhardly move quickly enough to watch all the hoops. Now and then a girlwas crowned, --that meant the hoops encircled her head, --and they allshouted. 

Then Helen said they had played that long enough, and now they would try"Hunt the slipper. " The slipper was a pretty one, made of pink plushwith a dainty heel and a shining buckle set in a small pink bow. Dorissaid "it looked like a Cinderella slipper. "

"Oh, do you know about Cinderella? Do you know many stories?"

"Not a great many. Little Red Riding Hood and Beauty and the Beast, anda few in verses. "

"I wish you knew something quite new. Oh!"

Eudora had forgotten to keep the slipper going. The girls were sittingin a ring, so she jumped up cheerfully and began to hunt. There were agreat many little giggles and exclamations, and then someone said: "Oh, let's stop playing and tell riddles!"

That was a never-failing amusement. There were some very bright ones, some very puzzling ones. One girl asked how many baskets of dirt therewere in Copp's Hill. 

"Why, there can't anybody tell, " said Helen. "You couldn't measure itthat way. "

Everybody looked at everybody else, and the glances finally grewindignant. 

"There isn't any answer. "

"Give it up?"

"Yes, " cried the voices in unison. 

"Why, one--if the basket is big enough. "

"There couldn't be a basket made as large as that. You might as well askhow many drops of water there are in the sea, and then say only onebecause they all run together. "

The girls applauded that, and, before anyone had thought of another, Miranda, --tall, black, imposing, with a gay turban wound round herhead, --announced:

"De little misses were all disquested to walk out to de Christmassupper. "

Grandmamma did not know how to leave her guests, and she was in themiddle of a game of loo, but she had promised to sit at the head of thetable, so Mrs. Chapman took her place. No one felt troubled becausethere were no boys at the party: the only boy of the house had gone outskating with some other boys. 

It was quite a royal feast. There were thin bread and butter, daintybiscuits not much larger than the penny of that day, cold turkey andcold ham, and cake of every kind, it would seem, ranged around the icedChristmas cake that was surmounted by a wreath of some odd goldenflowers that people dried and kept all winter for ornamental purposes. 

They puzzled grandmamma with the two riddles, but she thought that aboutthe sea the better one. And she said no one would ever have anopportunity to measure Copp's Hill, but for all that they did, if theyhad cared to. 

The grown-up people had some tea and chocolate in the dining room, andseemed to be having as merry a time as the children. There was somethinginfectious in the air or the house. Doris thought it very delightful. Her cheeks began to bloom in a wild-rose tint, and her eyes had aluminous look, as if happiness was shining through them. 

Afterward grandmamma played on the spinet and they danced several prettysimple figures, ending with the minuet. When the clock struck sevensomeone came in a sleigh for four of the girls who lived quite neartogether. Pompey, the Royalls' servant, was to escort the others, andBetty March lived just across in Winter Street. When children went outthe hours were kept pretty strictly. Seven o'clock meant seven truly, and not eight or nine. 

Each child had a pretty paper box of candy, tied with a bright ribbon. Bonbons we should call them now. And they all expressed their thanks andmade a courtesy as they reached the hall door. 

"Have you had a good time?" asked Madam Royall, taking Doris by thehand. 

"It's been just delightful, every moment, " the child answered. 

"And she's only looked on, grandmamma, " exclaimed Eudora. "Now, let's usget real acquainted. We will go in the parlor and have a good talk. "

"Very well, " returned grandmamma. "I'll go and see what the _old_ peopleare about. "

"I am glad you don't have to go home so soon, " began Helen. "Why don'tyou live with your Uncle Adams instead of in Sudbury Street? Are thereany girls there?"

"One real big one who is sixteen. She has gone to Hartford now. That'sBetty Leverett. And I went there first, because--well, Uncle Leverettcame for me when the vessel reached Boston. "

"Oh, he is your uncle, too! Did you come from another Boston, trulynow?"

"Yes, it was Boston. "

"And like this?"

"Oh, no. "

"Did you know ever so many girls?"

"No. We lived quite out of the town. "

"And, oh, were you not afraid to cross the ocean? Suppose there had beena pirate or something?"

"I didn't know anything about pirates, " said Doris. "But I was afraid atfirst, when you could not see any land for days and days. There were twolittle girls and they had a doll. We played together and grew used tothe water. But it was worse when it stormed. "

"I should have been frightened out of my life. Grandmamma has been toEngland. We have some cousins there, but they are grown-up people andmarried. Which place do you like best?"

"I had no real relatives there after papa died. Oh, I like this Bostonbest. "

Then they branched off into school matters. Eudora and her sister wentto a Miss Parker, and to a writing school an hour in the afternoon. Eudora wished she was grown-up like Isabel and Alice, and could go outto real parties and have a silk frock. Grandmamma was going to give herone when she was fifteen. 

A feeling of delicacy kept Doris from confessing that she owned thecoveted article. Some of the girls had worn very pretty frocks. Eudora'swas a beautiful soft blue, and had bands of black velvet and shortsleeves with lace around them. But Doris had forgotten about her ownattire, though she recalled the fact that there was only one littlegirl in a gray frock, and it didn't seem very pretty. 

So they chattered on, and Eudora said they would have splendid times ifshe came in the summer. They had a big swing, and they went over on theCommon and had no end of fun playing tag. The warm weather was thenicest, though there was great fun sledding and snowballing when theboys were not too rough. Oh, had she seen the forts and the great lightout at Fort Hill? Wasn't it just grand?

"But, you know, Walter said if the redoubts had been stone instead ofsnow, the Rebels never could have taken them. You know, they called _us_Rebels then. And now we are a nation. "

Doris wondered what a redoubt was, but she saved it to ask Uncle Win. She gave a sigh to think what an ignorant little girl she was. 

"I think it is a great deal finer to be a country all by yourself andgovern your own people. The King of England is half crazy, you know. Youdon't mind, do you, when we talk about the English? We don't really meanevery person, and our friends and--and all"--getting rather confusedwith distinctions. 

"We mean the government, " interposed Helen. "It stands to reason peoplethousands of miles away wouldn't know what is best for us. Wouldn't itbe ridiculous if someone in Virginia should pretend to instructgrandmamma what to do? Grandmamma knows so much. And she is one of thehandsomest old ladies in Boston. Oh, listen!"

A mysterious sound came from the kitchen. A fiddle was surely tuning upsomewhere. 

"The big folks are going to dance, and that is black Joe, Mr. Winslow'sman. "

Mr. Winslow and a young lady had arrived also. They tendered manyapologies about their lateness. 

The people in the dining room left the table and came out in the hall. Cary Adams had been having a very nice time, for a young fellow. Isabelpoured the chocolate, and on her right sat a Harvard senior. Alicepoured the tea, and beside her sat Cary, who made himself useful handingit about. He liked Alice very much. A young married couple were over onthe other side, and now this addition and the fiddle looked suspicious. 

"My dear Doris, " exclaimed her uncle. He had been discussing Greek poetswith the Harvard professor, and had really forgotten about her. "Are youtired? It's about time a young person like you, and an old person likeme, went home. "

He didn't look a bit old. There was a tint of pink in his cheeks--he hadbeen so roused and warmed with his argument and his tea. 

"Oh, do let Doris stay and see them dance, just one dance, " pleadedEudora. "We have been sitting here talking, and haven't tired ourselvesout a bit. "

The fiddler and the dancers went to the room where the children hadtheir frolic. That was Jane Morse's cousin Winslow. How odd she shouldsee him and hear black Joe, who fiddled like the blind piper. Thechildren kept time with their feet. 

The minuet was elegant. Then they had a cotillion in which there was agreat deal of bowing. After that Mr. Adams said they must go home, andMadam Royall came and talked to Doris in a charming fashion, and thentold Susan, the slim colored maid, to wrap her up head and ears, and inspite of Mr. Adams' protest Pompey came round with the sleigh. 

"I hope you had a nice time, " said Madam Royall, as she put a Christmasbox in the little girl's hand. 

"I'm just full of joy, " she answered with shining eyes. "I couldn't holdany more unless I grew, " laughingly. 

They made her promise to come again, and the children kissed hergood-by. Then they were whisked off and set down at their own door in notime. 

"Now you must run to bed. Aunt Elizabeth would be horrified at yourstaying up so late. "

Miss Recompense was--almost. She had been nodding over the fire. 

They went upstairs together. She took a look at Doris, and suddenly thechild clasped her round the waist. 

"Oh, dear Miss Recompense, I was so glad about the beautiful sash. Mostof the frocks were prettier than mine. Some had tiny ruffles round thebottom and the sleeves. But the party was so nice I forgot all aboutthat. Oh, Miss Recompense, were you ever brimful of happiness, and youwanted to sing for pure gladness? I think that is the way the birds mustfeel. "

No, Miss Recompense had never been that happy. A great joy, the delightof childhood, had been lost out of her life. She had been trained tobelieve that for every miserable day you spent bewailing your sins, aday in heaven would be intensified, and that happiness on earth was asnare of the Evil One to lead astray. She had gone out in the fields andbemoaned herself, and wondered how the birds _could_ sing when they hadto die so soon, and how anyone could laugh when he had to answer foreverything at the Day of Judgment. 

"Everybody was so delightful, though at first I felt strange. And I didnot make out at all playing graces. That's just beautiful, and I'd liketo know how. And now if you will untie the sash and put it away, and Iam a hundred times obliged to you. "

Some of the children she had known would have begged for the sash. Doris' frank return touched her. Mr. Adams no doubt meant her to keepit--she would ask him. 

And then the happy little girl went to bed, while even in the dark theroom seemed full of exquisite visions and voices that charmed her. 

Cary had to go away the next morning. Uncle Win said he couldn't spareher, and sent Cato over to tell Mrs. Leverett. A young man came in forsome instruction, and Doris followed the fate of the Vicar's household awhile, until she felt she ought to study, since there were so manythings she did not know. 

Uncle Win found her in the chimney corner with a pile of books. 

"What is it now?" he asked. 

"I think I know _all_ my spelling. But I can't get some of the additiontables right when I ask myself questions. I wish there had not been anynine. "

"The world couldn't get along without the nine. It is very necessary. "

"Most of the good things _are_ hard, " she said with a philosophic sigh. 

He laughed. 

"Eudora does not like tables either. "

"I will tell you a famous thing about nine that you can't do with anyother figure. How much is ten and ten?"

"Why, twenty, and ten more are thirty, and so on. It is easy as turningover your hand. "

"Ten and nine. "

Doris looked nonplused and began to draw her brow in perplexed lines. 

"Nine is only one less than ten. Now, if you can remember that----"

"Nineteen! Why, that is splendid. "

"Now sixteen and nine?"

"Twenty-five, " rather hesitatingly. 

He nodded. "And nine more. "

"Thirty-four. Oh, we made a rhyme. Uncle Winthrop, is it very hard towrite verses? They are so beautiful. "

"I think it is--rather, " with his half-smile. 

People had not had the leisure to be very poetical as yet. But throughthese years some children were being born into the world whose verseswere to find a place by every fireside before the little girl said herlast good-night to it. So far there had been some bright witticisms andsarcasms in rhyme, and the clergy had penned verses for wedding andfuneral occasions. The Rev. John Cotton had indulged in flowingversification, and even Governor Bradford had interspersed his severercares with visions of softer strains. Anne Dudley, the wife of GovernorBradstreet, with her eight children, had found time for study andwriting, and about 1650 had a volume of verse published in Londonentitled "The Tenth Muse. Several poems compiled with a great variety ofwit and learning. By an American Gentlewoman. " And she makes thisprotest even then:

 I am obnoxious to each carping tongue, Who says my hand a needle better fits; A poet's pen all scorn I thus should wrong, For such despite they cast on female wits: If what I do prove well it won't advance, They'll say it's stolen, or else it was by chance. 

There was also a Mrs. Murray and a Mercy Otis Warren, who evinced veryfine intellectual ability; and Mrs. Adams had written letters that theworld a hundred years later was to admire and esteem. 

On the parlor table in some houses you found a thin volume of poemswith a romantic history. A Mrs. Wheatley bought a little girl at theslave market one day, mostly out of pity. She learned to read veryrapidly, and was so modest and thoughtful that as a young woman she washeld in high esteem by Dr. Sewall's flock at the Old South Church. Shewent abroad with her master's son before the breaking out of the war, and interested Londoners so much that her poems were published and shewas the recipient of a good many attentions. Afterward they werereissued in Boston and met with warm commendations for the nobility ofsentiment and smooth versification. So to Phillis Wheately belongs thehonor of having been one of the first female poets in Boston. 

And young men even now celebrated their sweethearts' charms in rhyme. Gay gallants wrote their own valentines. Young collegians struggled withLatin verse, and sometimes scaled the heights of Thessaly from whenceinspiration sprang. But, for the most part, the temperaments thatinclined to the worship of the Muses sought solace in Chaucer, Shakspere, and Milton while the later ones were winning their way. 

Doris sighed over the doubtfulness in her uncle's tone. But it was musicrather than poetry that floated through her brain. 

"You might come and read a little Latin, and then we will have a talk inFrench. We will leave the prosaic part. What you will do in square rootand cube root----"

"I am afraid I shall not grow at all. I'll just wither up. Isn't theresome round root?"

"Yes, among vegetables. "

They both laughed at that. 

She did quite well in the Latin. Then she spelled some rather difficultwords, and being in the high tide of French when dinner was announced, they kept on talking, to the great amusement of Miss Recompense, whocould hardly convince herself that it really did mean anythingreasonable. 

Uncle Winthrop said then they certainly deserved some indulgence, and ifshe was not afraid of blowing away they would go out riding again. Theytook the small sleigh and he drove, and they turned down toward the stemend of the pear, and if Boston had not held on good and strong in thoseearly years it might in some high wind have been twisted off and left anisland. 

It does not look, to-day, much as it did when Doris first saw it. Charles River has shrunken, Back Bay has been filled up. It hasstretched out everywhere and made itself a marvelous city. The Commonhas changed as well, and is more beautiful than one could have imaginedthen, but a thousand old recollections cling to it. 

They left the streets behind. Sleigh riding was the great winteramusement then, but you had to take it in cold weather, for the salt airall about softened the snow the first mild day. There was no factorysmoke or dust to mar it, and it lay in great unbroken sheets. There werepeople skating on Back Bay, and chairs on runners with ladies wellwrapped up in furs, and sleds of every description. 

They came up around the other side and saw the wharves and the idleshipping and the white-capped islands in the harbor. Now the wind _did_nearly blow you away. 

The next day was very lowering and chilly. Uncle Winthrop had to go to adinner among some notables. Miss Recompense always brushed his hair andtied the queue. Young men did not wear them, but some of the olderpeople thought leaving them off was aping youthfulness. He put on hisblack velvet smallclothes, his silk stockings and low shoes with silverbuckles, his flowered waistcoat, his high stock and fine Frenchbroadcloth coat. His shirt front had two full ruffles beautifullycrimped. Miss Recompense did it with a penknife. 

"You look just like a picture, Uncle Winthrop, " Doris exclaimedadmiringly. "Party clothes _do_ make one handsomer. I suppose it isn'tgood for one to be handsome all the time. "

"We should grow too vain, " he answered smilingly, yet he did enjoy thehonest praise. 

"Perhaps if we were used to it all the time it would not seem sobeautiful. It would get to be everyday-like, and you would not thinkabout it. "

True enough. He had a fancy Madam Royall did not think half so muchabout her apparel as some of the more strenuous people who referredcontinually to conscience. 

"Good-by. Maybe you will be in bed when I come back. "

"Oh, will you be gone that late?" She stood upon a stool and reachedover to give him a parting kiss, if she could not see him untilto-morrow, and she did not even touch his immaculate ruffles. 

It was growing dusky, and Miss Recompense was in and out, and was in nohurry for candlelight herself. Doris sat in a kind of chaotic thinking. Someone came up the steps, stamped his feet quite too noisily forCato, --even if he had returned so soon, --knocked at the door, and thenopened it. 

"Oh, Uncle Leverett!" and she sprang up. 

"Well, well, little runaway! I was quite struck when mother told me youwere going to stay all the week. I wanted to see my little girl. It'slonesome without you and Betty, I can tell you--lonesome as the woods inwinter; and as I couldn't get to see her, I thought I would run aroundthis way and see you. The longest way round is the surest way home, Ihave heard"--with a twinkle in his eye. "Where's Uncle Win? What are youdoing in the dark alone?"

"Uncle Win has gone to a grand dinner at the Exchange something. And hedressed all up. He looked splendid. "

"I dare say. He isn't bad-looking in his everyday gear. And you arehaving a good time?"

"A most beautiful time, Uncle Leverett. I went to church Christmasmorning. And a lady asked us both to a party--yes, it was a party. Thegrown people were by themselves, and the children--there were ten littlegirls--they had a grand supper and played games and told riddles, and wetalked--"

"Where was this fine affair?"

"At Madam Royall's. And she was so kind and sweet and handsome. "

"Well, I declare! Right in amongst the quality! I don't know what motherwould say to a party. What a pity you didn't have that pretty frock!"

"I did wish for it at first, but we had such a nice time it made nodifference. And then some more people came and Mr. Winslow and BlackJoe, who was at Betty's party, and they danced. Cary went, too. Hestayed after Uncle Win and I came home. "

"Great doings. I am glad you are happy. But I shall be doubly glad toget you back. And now I must run off home. "

Miss Recompense came in and lighted the candles. They were going to havesupper in five minutes and he must take off his coat and stay. 

"I've sort of run away, and no one would know where I am. Wife wouldkeep supper waiting. No, I must hustle back, thanking you for theasking. I wanted to see Doris. Somehow we have grown so used to heralready that the house seems kind of lost without her, Betty being away. We haven't had any letter from Hartford, but I dare say she is there allsafe. "

"Post teams do get delayed. Doris is well and satisfied. She and heruncle have great times studying. "

"That is good. Wife worried a little about school. Now I must go. Good-night. You will surely be home on Saturday. "

"Good-night, " returned the soft voice. 

Somehow the supper was very quiet. Doris had begun to read aloud to MissRecompense "The Story of Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia. " She did notlike it as well as her dear Vicar, but Uncle Win said it was good. Hewas not quite sure of the Vicar for such a child. So she read along verywell for a while, and then she yawned. 

"You were up late last night and you must go to bed, " said the elderlady. 

Doris was ready. She _was_ sleepy, but somehow she did not drop asleepall in a minute. There was a grave subject to consider. All day she wasthinking how splendid it would be if Uncle Win should ask her to comehere and live. She liked him. She liked the books and the curiositiesand the talks and the teaching. Uncle Win was so much more interestingthan Mrs. Webb, who flung questions at you in a way that made you jumpif you were not paying strict attention. There were other delights thatshe could not explain to herself. And the books, the leisure to sit andthink. For careful Aunt Elizabeth said--"Have you hung up your cloak, Doris? Are you sure you know your spelling? I do wonder if you will everget those tables perfect! The idea of such a big girl not knowing how toknit a stocking! Don't sit there looking into the fire and dreaming, Doris; attend to your book. Jimmie boy is away ahead of you in somethings. "

And here she could sit and dream. Of course she was not going to school. Miss Recompense did not think of something all the time. She had learneda sort of graciousness since she had lived with Mr. Winthrop Adams. True, she had nothing to worry about--no children to advance in life, nohusband whose business she must be anxiously considering. She had a snuglittle sum of money, and was adding to it all the time, and she wasstill a long way from old age. Doris could not have understood thedifference in both position and demands, but she enjoyed the atmosphereof ease. And there was a certain aspect of luxury, a freedom from thegrinding exactions of conscience that had been trained to keepcontinually on the alert lest one "fall into temptation. "

"He had wanted to see his little girl. He was lonesome without her. "

She could see the longing in Uncle Leverett's face and hear his wistfulvoice there in the dark. He had come to the ship and given her the firstgreeting and brought her home. Yes, she supposed she _was_ his littlegirl. Guardians were to take care of one's money; you did not have tolive with them, of course. Uncle Leverett was something in a businessway, too; and he loved her. She knew that without any explanation. Shewas quite sure Uncle Win loved her also, but her real place was inSudbury Street. 

Friday afternoon she was curled up by the fire reading, looking like abig kitten, if you had seen only her gray frock. Uncle Win had glancedat her every now and then. He did not mind having her around--not asmuch, in fact, as Cary, who tumbled books about and moved chairs noisilyand kept one's nerves astir all the time, as a big healthy fellow whosebody has grown so fast that he hardly knows what to do with his longarms and legs is apt to do. 

Doris was like a little mouse. She never rattled the leaves when sheturned them over, she never put books in the cases upside down, she didnot finger papers or anything that lay on the table when she stood byit. He had a fancy that all children were meddlesome and curious andgiven to asking queer questions: these were the things he rememberedabout Cary in those first years of sorrow when he could hardly bear himout of his sight. 

Instead, Doris was restful with her quaint ways. She did not run againstchairs nor move a stool so that the legs emitted a "screak" of agony, and she could sit still for an hour at a time if she had a book. Ofcourse, being a girl she ought to sew instead. 

It was getting quite dusky. Uncle Winthrop came and stirred the fire andput on a pine log, then drew up his chair. 

"Put away your book, Doris. You will try your eyes. "

She shut it up and came and stood by him. He passed his arm around her. 

"Uncle Win, there was a time when people had to read and sew by theblaze of logs and torches. There were no candles. "

"They did it not so many years ago here. I dare say they are still doingit out in country places. They go to bed early. "

"What seems queer to me is that people are continually finding outthings. They must at one time have been very ignorant. No, they couldnot have been either, " reflectively. "For just think how Adam named theanimals. And Miss Arabella said that Job knew all about the stars andcalled them by their names. But perhaps it was the little things likecandles and such. Yet they had lamps ever and ever so long ago. "

"People seem to advance and then fall back. They emigrate and cannottake all their appliances with them, and they make simpler things to useuntil they have leisure and begin to accumulate wealth. You see, theycould not bring a great deal from England or Holland in the vessels theyhad in early sixteen hundred. So they had to begin at the foundation inmany things. "

"It is all so wonderful when you really come to learn about it, " shesaid with a gentle sigh. 

The blaze was shining on her now, and bringing out the puzzles on thefair child's face. She was very intelligent, if she was slow at figures. 

"Doris, "--after a long pause, --"how would you like to live here?"

"Oh, Uncle Win, it would be the most splendid thing----"

"I fancied you might like to change. And there are some mattersconnected with your education--why, what is it, Doris?"

She raised her eyes an instant, then they drooped and he saw the darkfringe beaded with tears. She took a long quivering inspiration. 

"Uncle Win--I don't believe I can. " The words came very slowly. "You seeBetty is away, and Uncle Leverett missed me very much. He said the othernight I was his little girl, and he was lonesome----"

"I shall be lonesome when you are gone. "

"But you have so many books and things, and people coming, and--I shouldlike to stay. Oh, I do like you so. " She put her slim arm around hisneck and laid her cheek against his. "Sometimes it seems as if you werelike what I remember of papa. I only saw such a little of him, you know, after I went to England. But Aunt Elizabeth says it is the hard thingsthat are right always. She would have Jimmie boy, you know, if I stayed, but Uncle Leverett wants me. I can just feel how it is, but I don't knowhow to explain it. He has always been so good to me. And that day on theship he said, 'Is this my little girl?' and I was so glad to reallybelong to someone again----"

She was crying softly. He felt the tears on his cheek. Her simpleheroism touched him. 

"Yes, dear, " he said with a comforting sound in his voice. "Perhaps itwould be best to wait a little, until Betty returns, or in the summer. You can come over Friday night and spend Sunday, and brush up on Latin, and brush me up on French, and we will have a nice visit. "

"Oh, thank you, thank you. Uncle Win--if I could be two littlegirls----"

"I want you all, complete. We will keep it to think about. "

Then Miss Recompense said supper was ready, and Doris wiped the tearsout of her eyes and smiled. But the pressure of her hand as they walkedout confessed that she belonged to him. 

CHAPTER XIII

VARIOUS OPINIONS OF LITTLE GIRLS

"You have kept up wonderfully for being absent a whole week. You haven'tfallen back a bit, " said Mrs. Webb. 

Doris flushed with delight. The little training Uncle Winthrop had givenher had borne fruit. 

But she was shocked that Jimmie boy was so bad he had to be punishedwith the ruler. He had been punished twice in the week before. 

"Don't you darst to tell grandmother, " he said as they were turning intoSudbury Street. "If you do I'll--I'll"--she was a girl, and he couldn'tpunch her--"I won't take you on my sled. "

"No. I won't tell. "

"Honest and true? Hope to die?"

"I'll say honest and true. "

"A little thing like that aint much, just two or three slaps. You oughtto see the teacher at Salem? My brother Foster gets licked sometimes, and he makes us promise not to tell father. "

James had stood a little in awe of Doris on the point of good behavior. But Sam had been up, and James had gone down to Aunt Martha's, and hefelt a great deal bigger now. 

Uncle Leverett was very glad to get his little girl back. They had heardfrom Betty, who had spent two delightful days with Mrs. Eastman, andthen they had gone to Hartford together. Electa and the children werewell, and she had a beautiful house with a Brussels carpet in the parlorand velvet furniture and vases and a table with a marble top. Betty sentlove to everybody, and they were to tell Aunt Priscilla that the beaverbonnet was just the thing, and she was going to have the silk frock madeover right away. Electa thought the India silk lovely, and she was soglad she had brought the extra piece along, for she was going to havethe little cape with long tabs to tie behind, and she should use upevery scrap putting a frill on it. 

Aunt Priscilla had not waited until March, but taken another cold andwas confined to the house, so Aunt Elizabeth went over quite often. Martha Grant proved very efficient, and she was industry itself. She, too, was amazed that Doris wasn't "put to something useful. "

Doris had brought home a Latin book, but Aunt Elizabeth could notcordially indorse such a boyish study. Women were never meant to go tocolleges. But she did not feel free to thwart Cousin Adams' plans forher. 

He came over on Saturday and took her out, and they had a nice laughingFrench talk, though he admitted he and Miss Recompense had missed hervery much. She told him about Betty, and what Mrs. Webb had said, andseemed quite happy. 

Just at the last of the month they were all very much interested in agrand affair to which Uncle Winthrop was an invited guest. It was at thegreat Exchange Coffee House, and really in honor of the gallant struggleSpain had been making against the man who bid fair then to be thedictator of all Europe. On one throne after another he had placed thedifferent members of his family. Joseph Bonaparte, who had been King ofNaples, was summarily transferred to the throne of Spain, with smallregard for the desires of her people. He found himself quite unable tocope with the insurgents rising on every hand. And America sent Spainher warmest sympathy. 

Uncle Leverett read the account aloud from his weekly paper. Now andthen there appeared a daily paper for a brief while, and a tolerablysuccessful semi-weekly, but the real substantial paper was the weekly. How they would have found time then to read a morning and an eveningpaper--two or three, perhaps--is beyond comprehension. And to have heardnews from every quarter of the globe before it was more than a few hoursold would have seemed witchcraft. 

Napoleon was now at the zenith of his fame. But the feeling of thecountry at his divorcing Josephine, who loved him deeply, was a thrillof indignation, for the tie of marriage was now considered irrevocablesave for the gravest cause. That he should marry an Austrian princessfor the sake of allying himself to a royal house and having an heir tothe throne, which was nearly half of Europe now, was causing people eventhen to draw a parallel between him and our own hero, Washington. Bothhad started with an endeavor to free their respective countries from anintolerable yoke, and when this was achieved Washington had grandly andcalmly laid down the burdens of state and retired to private life, whileNapoleon was still bent upon conquest. The sympathies of America wentout to all struggling nations. 

There had been an ode read, and toasts and songs; indeed, it had calledtogether the notable men of the city, who had partaken of a grand feast. It was much talked of for weeks; and Doris questioned Uncle Winthrop andbegan to be interested in matters pertaining to her new country. 

She was learning a good deal about the city. Warren took her to AuntPriscilla's one noon, and came for her when they had "shut up shop. "Aunt Priscilla did not mend rapidly. She called it being "pudgicky, " asif there was no name of a real disease to give it. A little fresh cold, a good deal of weakness--and she had always been so strong; some feverthat would persist in coming back even when she had succeeded inbreaking it up for a few days. The time hung heavily on her hands. Shedid miss Betty's freshness and bright, argumentative ways. So she wasglad to see Doris, for Polly sat out in the kitchen half asleep most ofthe time. 

Solomon as well always seemed very glad to see Doris. He came and sat inher lap, and Aunt Priscilla told about the days when she was a littlegirl, more than fifty years ago. Doris thought life must have been veryhard, and she was glad not to have lived then. 

She did like Miss Recompense the best, but she felt very sorry for AuntPriscilla's loneliness. 

"She and Polly have grown old together, and they need some youngerperson to take care of them both, " said Uncle Leverett. "She ought totake her comfort; she has money enough. "

"It is so difficult to find anyone to suit, " and Aunt Elizabeth sighed. 

"I shall crawl out in the spring, " declared Mrs. Perkins; but her tonewas rather despondent. 

Doris wondered when the spring would come. The snow and ice had neverbeen entirely off the ground. 

Besides going to Uncle Winthrop's, --and she went every otherSaturday, --she had been asked to Madam Royall's to tea with thechildren. The elder lady had not forgotten her. Indeed, this was one ofthe houses that Mr. Adams thoroughly enjoyed, though he was not much ofa hand to visit. But people felt then that they really owed theirneighbors some social duty. There were not so many public amusements. 

The Chapman children had real dolls, not simply rag babies; and theclothes were made so you could take them off. Doris was quite charmedwith them. Helen's had blue eyes and Eudora's brown, but both werered-cheeked and had black hair, which was not really hair at all, butshaped of the composition and curled and painted over. 

They had a grand long slide in their garden at the back. The servantwould flood it over now and then and make it smooth as glass. Dorisfound it quite an art to stand up. Helen could go the whole lengthbeautifully, and balance herself better than Eudora. But if you fell yougenerally tumbled over in the bank of snow and did not get hurt. 

Playing graces was a great delight to her and after several trials shebecame quite expert. Then on one occasion Madam Royall found that shehad a very sweet voice. 

"You are old enough to learn some pretty songs, my child, " she said. "Imust speak to your uncle. When the weather gets pleasanter he must placeyou in a singing class. "

Singing was quite a great accomplishment then. Very few people hadpianos. But young ladies and young men would sometimes spend a wholeevening in singing beautiful old songs. 

In March there was a new President, Mr. Madison. Everybody was hopingfor a new policy and better times, yet now and then there were quitesharp talks of war. 

One day Mrs. Manning and the baby came in and made quite a visit. Thebaby was very sweet and good, with pretty dark eyes, and Mrs. Manninglooked very much like Aunt Elizabeth. Mrs. Hollis Leverett came andspent the day, and young married women who had been Mary Leverett'sfriends came to tea. Warren went over in the old chaise and brought AuntPriscilla. Everybody seemed personally aggrieved that Betty should stayaway so long. 

But Betty was having a grand time. Her letters to her mother were verystaid and respectful, but there were accounts of dinners and eveningparties and two or three weddings. Her brother King had given her apretty pink silk, and that was made pompadour waist and had a fulldouble plait at the back that hung down to the floor in a train. He hadtaken her and Electa to a grand affair where there were crowds ofbeautifully attired ladies. Betty did not call it a ball, for she knewthey would all be shocked. And though her mother had written for her tocome home, Mrs. King had begged for a little longer visit, as thereseemed to be something special all the time. 

"What extravagance for a young girl!" exclaimed Mrs. Manning. "Pink silkindeed, and a train! Betty will be so flighty when she comes back therewill be no getting along with her. 'Lecty has grown very worldly, Ithink. I have never found any occasion for a pink silk. "

Mrs. Leverett sighed. And Betty was not yet seventeen!

Mrs. Manning took James home with her, for she said grandmother wasspoiling him. She kept the children with a pretty strict hand at home, and they soon jumped over the traces when you gave them a littleliberty. She was very glad to have him go to school all winter and hopedhe had made some improvement. 

She was very brisk and energetic and was surprised to think they wereletting Doris grow up into such a helpless, know-nothing sort of girl. And her daughter of nine was like a steady little woman. 

"Still it isn't wise to put too much on her, " said Mrs. Leverett in mildprotest. "Where one cannot help it, why, you must; but I think life isgetting a little easier, and children ought to have their share of it. "

"I'm not asking anything of her that I did not do, " returned Mrs. Manning. "And I am proud of my training and my housekeeping. "

"But it was so different then. Your father and I began life with only afew hundred dollars. Then there was his three years in the war, andpeople were doing everything for themselves--spinning and weaving anddyeing, and making clothes of every kind. To be sure I make soap andcandles, " laughing a little; "but we have only one cow now and give halfthe milk for her care. I really felt as if I ought not have Martha, butfather insisted. "

"I don't see why Doris couldn't have done a good deal instead of poringover books so much. "

"Well--you see she isn't really our own. Cousin Winthrop has some ideasabout her education. She will have a little money, too, if everythingturns out right. "

"It's just the way to spoil girls. And you will find, mother, that Bettywill be none the better for her visit to 'Lecty. Dear me! I don't seehow 'Lecty can answer to her conscience, spending money that way. Wecouldn't. It's wrong and sinful. And it's wrong to bring up any child ina helpless, do-little fashion. "

They were sitting by the south window sewing, and Doris was at the otherside of the chimney studying. Now and then she could not help catching asentence. She wondered what little Elizabeth Manning was like, who couldcook a meal, work butter, tend babies, and sew and knit stockings. Sheonly went to school in the winter; there was too much work to do in thesummer. She was not left alone now; one of the Manning aunts had beenstaying some time. This aunt was a tailoress and had been fitting outMr. Manning, and now James must go home to have some clothes made. 

Jimmie boy privately admitted to Doris that he would rather stay atgrandmother's. She was a good deal easier on him than his mother, and hedidn't mind Mrs. Webb a bit. "But you just ought to see Mr. Green. Hedoes lick the boys like fury! And there's such lots of errands to dohome. Mother never gives you a chunk of cake either. I don't see whythey couldn't all have been grandmothers instead of mothers. "

James was not the first boy who had wished such a thing. But he knew hehad to go home, and that was all there was about it. 

Martha wanted to go also. She had bought a good stout Englishcambric--lively colored, as she called it--and a nice woolen or stufffrock, as goods of that kind was often called. She was going to do upher last summer's white frock to be married in. They would have awedding supper at her father's and then go home, and begin housekeepingthe next morning. Mrs. Leverett added a tablecloth to her store. 

Betty must be sent for imperatively. Her mother was afraid she would bequite spoiled. And she could not help wishing that Mrs. King would be alittle more careful and not branch out so, and Mary take life a littleeasier, for Mr. Manning was putting by money and had his large farmclear. 

Then Aunt Priscilla was suddenly at sea. Jonas Field had bought a placeof his own where he could live over the store. In spite of a changedname, King Street had dropped down and down, and was now largely givento taverns. The better class had kept moving out and a poorer classcoming in, with colored people among them. No one had applied for thestore, but a man who wanted to keep a tavern combined with a kind ofsailor lodging house had made her a very good offer to buy the property. 

"I'm going to live my time out in this very house, " declared AuntPriscilla with some of her olden energy. "I came here when I was marriedand I'll stay to be buried. By the looks of things, it won't be a greatmany years. And I haven't made a sign of a will yet! Not that thePerkinses would get anything if I died in this state--that aint theword, but it means the same thing, not having your will made, and I aintquite sure after all that would be right. I worked and saved, and I hadsome when we were married, but husband had farsight, and knew how toturn it over. Some of his money ought to go back to his folks. "

This had been one of the decisions haunting Aunt Priscilla's conscience. Down at the bottom she had a strict sense of justice. 

"It is hardly nice to go there any more, " said Aunt Elizabeth. "And Ishall not enjoy a young girl like Betty running over there, if AuntPriscilla shouldn't be very well, and she is breaking. Polly gets worseand really is not to be trusted. "

It was Polly after all who settled the matter, or the summons that cameto Polly one night. For in the morning, quite late, after a good deal ofcalling and scolding, Aunt Priscilla found she had taken the lastjourney. It was a great shock. Jonas Field's errand boy was dispatchedto the Leveretts'. 

The woman who came soon gave notice that she "couldn't stay in no suchneighborhood for steady company. "

Mr. Leverett and Cousin Adams urged her to sell. If there should be warshe might not have a chance in a long while again. 

"But I don't know the first thing in the world to do, " she moaned. "Ihaven't a chick nor a child to care about me. "

"Come over and stop with us a bit until you can make some plans. There'stwo rooms upstairs in which you could housekeep if you wanted to. Ourfamily gets smaller all the time. But if you liked to live with us aspell----" said Mr. Leverett. 

"I don't know how 'Lizabeth could stand an old woman and a youngone"--hesitatingly. 

"If you mean Doris, she is going over to Winthrop's, " he replied. 

"Ready to jump at the chance, I'll warrant. You can't count onchildren. "

"No, Aunt Priscilla, she didn't jump. She's a wise, fond little thing. Win asked her about Christmas, and she wouldn't consent until Betty cameback, for fear we would be lonesome. It quite touched me when I heard ofit. Win has some ideas about her education, and I guess he's nearerright. So that needn't trouble you. It would be so much better for youto sell. "

"I'll think it over, " she said almost gruffly, for she was movedherself. "I never could get along with this Rachel Day. She doesn'tallow that anyone in the world knows anything but herself, and I kepthouse before she was born. I don't like quite such smart people. "

Miss Hetty Perkins came in to offer her services as housekeeper. Everynow and then she had "edged round, " as Aunt Priscilla expressed it. Everybody said Hetty was closer than the skin, but then she had no oneexcept herself to depend upon. And Amos Perkins called to see if AuntPriscilla had anyone she could trust to do her business. He heard shewas going to sell. 

"I haven't made up my mind, " she answered tartly. She was not fond ofAmos either. 

Then the would-be purchaser found he could have a place two doors below. He did not like it as well, but it would answer. 

"It seems as if I was bound to have a rum shop and a sailor'sboarding-house under my nose. There'll be a crowd of men hanging roundand fiddling and carousing half the night. I don't see what's gettinginto Boston! Places that were good enough twenty year ago are only fitfor tramps, and decent people have to get out of the way, whether theywill or no. "

Betty came home the last of March. She looked taller--perhaps it wasbecause she wore her dresses so long and her hair so high. She had apretty new frock--a rich warm brown ground, with little flowers in greenand yellow and a kind of dull red sprinkled all over it. It had comefrom New York, and was called delaine. She had discarded her homespunwoolen. And, oh, how stylishly pretty she was, quite like the youngladies at Madam Royall's!

She held Doris to her heart and almost smothered her, kissing herfondly. 

"You have grown lovely by the minute!" she cried. "I was so afraidsomeone would cut your hair. 'Lecty said at first that I had only oneidea, and that was Doris Adams, I talked about you so much. And she'swild to see you. She's quite grand and full of fun, altogether differentfrom Mary. Mary holds onto every penny until I should think she'd pinchit thin. And I've had the most magnificent time, though Hartford isnothing compared to Boston. It is like a country place where you knoweverybody that is at all worth knowing. I have such lots of things totell you. "

It came rather hard to take up the old routine of work, and get up earlyin the morning. She was dismayed by the news that Aunt Priscilla wascoming and Doris going. 

"Though I don't know, " she declared after reflecting a day or two on thesubject. "I'll have such a good excuse to go to Uncle Win's, and we canhave delightful talks. But Aunt Priscilla is certainly a dispensation ofProvidence equal to St. Paul's thorn in the flesh. "

"I've made her some visits this winter, and she has been real nice, "said Doris. "I shouldn't mind her at all now. And I told Uncle Win thatI would like to be two little girls, so one _could_ stay here. I loveUncle Win very much. I love your father too. "

"Is there anybody in the whole wide world you do not love?"

Doris flushed. She had not been able to feel very tenderly toward Mrs. Manning, and Mrs. Hollis Leverett talked about her being so backward, and such a "meachin" little thing. 

"I dare say if the truth was known, her mother died of consumption. Andthat great mop of hair is enough to take the strength out of any child. I wouldn't have it on Bessy's head for an hour, " declared Mrs. Hollis. 

But Bessy told her in a confidential whisper that she thought her curlsthe sweetest thing in the world, and when she was a grown-up young ladyshe meant to curl her hair all over her head. 

Doris was glad Uncle Winthrop did not find any fault with them. 

Of course she should be sorry to go. It was curious how one could beglad and sorry in a breath. 

Mrs. Leverett went over to Aunt Priscilla's to help pack. Oh, the boxesand bundles and bags! They were tied up and labeled; some of them hadnot been opened for years. Gowns that she had outgrown, stockings shehad knit, petticoats she had quilted--quite a fashion then. 

"It's lucky we have a big garret, " said Mrs. Leverett. "And whateverwill you do with them?"

"There's that flax wheel--it was grandmother's. She was like BenjaminFranklin, who gave his sister Jane a spinning wheel on her wedding day:she gave me that. And Jane's gone, though I did hear someone bought thewheel for a sort of keepsake. Oh, Elizabeth, I don't know what _you_will do with all this old trumpery!"

Elizabeth hardly knew either. It was good to have children andgrandchildren to take some of these things just to keep one fromhoarding up. Elizabeth, sweet soul, remembered the poor at her gates aswell. But most people were fond of holding onto everything until theirlatest breath. There was some virtue in it, for the later generationshad many priceless heirlooms. 

One of the south rooms was emptied, and after a great deal of argumentAunt Priscilla was prevailed upon to use her best chamber furniture forthe rest of her life. She had not cared much for the housekeepingproject, and decided she would rather board a while until she could getback some of her strength. 

"What are you going to do with Solomon?" asked Doris. 

"Well--I don't know. Aunt Elizabeth doesn't like cats very much. He'ssuch a nice fellow, I should hate to leave him behind and have himneglected. But it's bad luck to move cats. "

"I should like to have him. "

"Would you, now? He's almost like a human. I've said that many a time;and he went round asking after Polly just as plain as anyone could. Ideclare, it made my heart ache. Polly had been a capable woman, and Mr. Perkins bought her, so I didn't feel free to turn her away when he wasgone. And I'd grown used to a servant, too. I don't know what I shouldhave done without her the two years he was ailing. Though when she cameto be forgetful and lose her judgment it did use to try me. But I'm gladnow I kept her to the end. I'd borrowed a sight of trouble thinking whatI'd do if she fell sick, and I might just as well have trusted the Lordright straight along. When I come to have this other creetur orderingeverything, and making tea her way, --she will boil it and you might aswell give me senna, --then I knew Polly had some sense and memory, afterall. You can't think how I miss her! I'm sorry for every bit of faultI've found these last two years. "

Aunt Priscilla stopped to take breath and wipe her eyes. Polly's deathhad opened her mind to many things. 

Doris sat and stroked Solomon and rubbed him under the throat. Now andthen he looked up with an intent, asking gaze, and a solemn flick of oneear, as if he said, "Can't you tell me where Polly is gone?"

"You'd have to ask Uncle Winthrop. And I don't know what Miss Recompensewould say. "

"She likes cats. "

"Oh. Well, I'm afraid Uncle Winthrop doesn't. "

"If he _should_, " tentatively. 

"I think I'd miss Solomon a good deal. But he'd be a bother to keep atthe Leveretts'. I would like him to have a good home. And he is veryfond of you. "

Uncle Win was over the very next day, and Doris laid the case beforehim. 

"I like the picture of comfort a nice cat makes before the fire. Ihaven't any objection to cats in themselves. But I dislike cat hairs. "

"Uncle Win, I could brush you off. And Solomon has been so well trained. He has a box with a cushion, so he never jumps up in chairs. And he hasa piece of blanket on the rug where he lies. He loves me so, and AuntElizabeth can't bear cats. Oh, I wish I might have him. "

"I'll talk to Miss Recompense. She's having a little room fixed up foryou just off of hers. It opens on the hall, and it has a window whereyou can see the sun rise. I think through the summer you need not go toschool, but study at home as you did Christmas week. "

"That will be delightful! And I shall be so glad when it is trulyspring. "

It had been a long cold winter, but now there were signs everywhere of acurious awakening among the maples. Some were already out in red bloom. The grass had begun to spring up in its soft green, though there werepatches of ice in shady places and a broad skim along the edge of theCharles River marsh. But the bay and the harbor were clear andbeautiful. 

Betty and Doris had confidential chats after they were in bed--in verylow tones, lest they should be heard. 

"Everybody would be shocked to see how really gay Electa is. There arevery religious people in Hartford, too, who begin on Saturday night. Butthe men insist upon parties and dinners, and they bring their fashionsup from New York. Boston is just as gay in some places, and Jane Morsehas had a splendid time this winter going to dances. The gentlemen whocome to Mr. King's are so polite, some of them elegant. I envy 'Lecty. It's just the kind of world to live in. "

"And I want to hear about your pink silk. "

"I left it at 'Lecty's. It was too gay to bring home. It would havefrightened everybody. And 'Lecty thinks of going to New York nextwinter, and if she does she will send for me. I should have had torumple it all up bringing it home, and I don't believe I'd had a chanceto wear it. I have the other two, and Mat thought the blue and white onevery pretty. Mat laughs at what he calls Puritanism, and says the worldis growing broader and more generous. He is a splendid man too, andthough he is making a good deal of money he doesn't think all the timeof saving, as Mary and her husband do. He is good to the poor, andgenerous and kind, and wants everyone to be happy. Of course they go tochurch, but there is a curious difference. I sometimes wonder who isright and if it _is_ a sin to be happy. "

Doris' mind had no especial theological bent, and her conscience had notbeen trained to keep on the alert. 

"It was very nice in him to give it to you. And you must have lookedlovely in it. "

"Oh, the frock, " Betty laughed. "Yes, I did. And when you know you looknice you stop feeling anxious about it. It was just so at Jane's party. But I should have been mortified in my gray woolen gown. Well--themortification may be good, but it isn't pleasant. I wore the pink silkto the weddings and to some dinners. Dinners are quite grand thingsthere, but they last so long I should call them suppers. And sometimesthere is a grand march afterward, which is a kind of stately dancing. Ithas been just delightful. I don't know how I will settle down and washand iron and scrub. But I would a great deal rather be in 'Lecty's placethan in Mary's, and saving up money to buy farms isn't everything tolife. I think the Mannings worship their farms and stock a good dealmore than 'Lecty and Mat do their fine house and their money and all. "

Her admirers and her conquests she confided to Janie Morse. There wasone very charming young man that she liked a great deal, but her sistersaid she was too young to keep company, and there might be next winterin New York. 

It spoke volumes for the wholesome, sensible nature of Betty Leverettthat she could take her olden place in the household, assist her mother, and entertain her father with the many interesting events of her gay andhappy winter. 

CHAPTER XIV

IN THE SPRING

The matter had settled itself so easily that Doris could not find muchopportunity for sorrow, nor misgivings for her joy. She could not seethe struggle there had been in Uncle Leverett's mind, and the sturdycommon sense that had come to his assistance. He could recall habits ofsecond-cousin Charles that were like a woman's for daintiness, andWinthrop Adams had the same touch of refinement and delicacy. It was inthe Adams blood, doubtless. Aunt Priscilla had not a large share, but hehad noted some of it in Elizabeth. It pervaded every atom of Doris'slender body and every cell of her brain. She never would take to therougher, coarser things of life; indeed, why should she when there wasno need? He had wandered so far from the orthodox faith that he began toquestion useless discipline. 

Winthrop could understand and care for her better. She would grow up inhis house to the kind of girl nature had meant her to be. Here theuseful, that might never come in use, would be mingled and confused withwhat was necessary. He had watched her trying to achieve the stockingthat all little girls could knit at her age. It was as bad as Penelope'sweb. Aunt Elizabeth pulled it out after she had gone to bed, and knittwo or three "rounds, " so as not to utterly discourage her inapt pupil. But Doris had set up some lace on a "cushion, " after Madam Sheafe'sdirection, and it grew a web of beauty under her dainty fingers. 

It was not as if Doris would be quite lost to them. They would see herevery day or two. And when it was decided that Aunt Priscilla wouldcome he was really glad. Aunt Priscilla's captious talk did not alwaysproceed from an unkindly heart. 

Betty made a violent protest at first. 

"After all, it will not be quite so bad as I thought, " she admittedpresently. "I shall go to Uncle Win's twice as often, and I have alwaysbeen so fond of him. And things _are_ prettier there, somehow. There isa great difference in the way people live, and I mean to change somethings. It isn't because one is ashamed to be old-fashioned; some of theold ways are lovely. It is only when you tack hardness and commonness onthem and think ugliness has a real virtue in it. We will have both sidesto talk about. But if you were going back to England, it would break myheart, Doris. "

Doris winked some tears out of her eyes. 

She thought her room at Uncle Win's was like a picture. The wall waswhitewashed: people thought then it was much healthier for sleepingchambers. The floor was painted a rather palish yellow. There was onlyone window, but the door was opposite, and a door that opened into theroom of Miss Recompense. The window had white curtains with rufflededges, made of rather coarse muslin, but it was clear, and looked verytidy. Miss Recompense had found a small bedstead among the stored-awayarticles. It had high posts and curtains and valance of pale-blueflowered chintz. There was a big bureau, a dressing table covered withwhite, and a looking glass prettily draped. At the top of this, surmounted by a gilt eagle, was a marvelous picture of a man with a bluecoat and yellow smallclothes handing into a boat a lady who wore a skirtof purple and an overdress of scarlet, very much betrimmed, holding agreen parasol over her head with one hand and placing a slippered footon the edge of the boat. After a long while Doris thought she should bemuch relieved to have them sail off somewhere. 

There were two quaint rush-bottomed chairs and a yellow stool, such aswe tie with ribbons and call a milking stool. A nice warm rug lay at theside of the bed, and a smaller one at the washing stand. These werewoven like rag carpet, but made of woolen rags with plenty of endsstanding up all over, like the surface of a Moquette carpet. They wereconsidered quite handsome then, as they were more trouble than braidedrugs, and so soft to the foot. Some strenuous housekeepers declared themterrible dust catchers. 

Doris' delight in the room amply repaid Miss Recompense. She had learnedher way about, and could come down alone, now that the weather had grownpleasanter, and she was full of joy over everything. Occasionally UncleWinthrop would be out, then she and Miss Recompense would have what theycalled a "nice talk. "

Miss Recompense Gardiner was quite sure she had never seen just such achild. Indeed at five-and-forty she was rather set in her ways, dislikednoise and bustle, and could not bear to have a house "torn up, " as shephrased it. Twelve years before she had come here to "housekeep, " as theold phrase went. She had not lacked admirers, but she had been veryparticular. Her sisters said she was a born old maid. There was in hersoul a great love of refinement and order. 

Mr. Winthrop Adams just suited her. He was quiet, neat, made no trouble, and did not smoke. That was a wretched habit in her estimation. CousinCharles used to come over, and different branches of the family wereinvited in now and then to tea. Cary was a rather proper, well-orderedboy, trained by his mother's sister, who had married and gone away justbefore the advent of Miss Gardiner. There had been some talk that Mr. Winthrop might espouse Miss Harriet Cary in the course of time, but asthere were no signs, and Miss Cary had an excellent offer of marriage, she accepted it. 

Cary went to the Latin School and then to Harvard. He was a fair averageboy, a good student, and ready for his share of fun at any time. Hisfather had marked out his course, which was to be law, and Cary wasindifferent as to what he took up. 

So they had gone on year after year. It promised a pleasant break tohave the little girl. 

The greatest trouble, Miss Recompense thought, would be making Solomonfeel at home. Doris brought his cushion, and the box he slept in atnight was sent. Warren brought him over in a bag and they put him in thecloset for the night. He uttered some pathetic wails, and Doris talkedto him until he quieted down. He was a good deal frightened the nextmorning, but he clung to Doris, who carried him about in her arms andintroduced him to every place. He was afraid of Mr. Adams and Cato, hisacquaintance with men having been rather limited. After several days hebegan to feel quite at home, and took cordially to his cushion in thecorner. 

"He doesn't offer to run away, " announced Doris to Aunt Priscilla. "Helikes Miss Recompense. Uncle Winthrop thinks him the handsomest cat hehas ever seen. "

"Poor old Polly! She set a great deal of store by Solomon. I never didcare much for a cat, but I do think Solomon was most as wise as folks. Idon't know what I should have done last winter when I was so miserableif it had not been for him. He seemed to take such comfort that it wasalmost as good as a sermon. And sometimes when he purred it was like thesound of a hymn with the up and down and the long notes. I don't believehe would have stayed with anyone else though. Child, what is thereabout you that just goes to the heart of even a dumb beast?"

Doris looked amazed, then thoughtful. "I suppose it is because I lovethem, " she said simply. 

There was a great stir everywhere, it seemed. The slow spring had reallycome at last. The streets were being cleared up, the gardens put inorder, some of the houses had a fresh coat of paint; the stores put outtheir best array, the trees were misty-looking with tiny green shoots, and the maples Doris thought wonderful. There were four in the row onCommon Street; one was full of soft dull-red blooms, one had littlepale-green hoods on the end of every twig, another looked as if it helda tiny scarlet parasol over each baby bud, and the fourth droppedclusters of brownish-green fringe. 

"Oh, how beautiful they are!" cried Doris, her eyes alight withenthusiasm. 

And then all the great Common began to put on spring attire. The marshgrass over beyond sent up stiff green spikes and tussocks that lookedlike little islands, and there were water plants with large leaves thatseemed continually nodding to their neighbors. The frog concerts at thepond were simply bewildering with the variety of voices, each oneproclaiming that the reign of ice and snow was at an end and they weregiving thanks. 

"They are so glad, " declared Doris. "I shouldn't like to be frozen upall winter in a little hole. "

Miss Recompense smiled. Perhaps they _were_ grateful. She had neverthought of it before. 

Doris did not go back to Mrs. Webb's school, though that lady said shewas sorry to give her up. Uncle Win gave her some lessons, and she wentto writing school for an hour every day. Miss Recompense instructed herhow to keep her room tidy, but Uncle Win said there would be time enoughfor her to learn housekeeping. 

Then there were hunts for flowers. Betty came over; she knew some nookswhere the trailing arbutus grew and bloomed. The swamp pinks and theviolets of every shade and almost every size--from the wee little fellowwho sheltered his head under his mother's leaf-green umbrella to thetall, sentinel-like fellow who seemed to fling out defiance. Doris usedto come home with her hands full of blooms. 

The rides too were delightful. They went over the bridges to West Bostonand South Boston and to Cambridge, going through the collegebuildings--small, indeed, compared with the magnificent pile of to-day. But Boston did seem almost like a collection of islands. The bays andrivers, the winding creeks that crept through the green marsh grass, thelong low shores held no presentiment of the great city that was to be. 

Although people groaned over hard times and talked of war, still thetown kept a thriving aspect. Men were at work leveling Beacon Hill. Boylston Street was being made something better than a lane, and CommonStreet was improved. Uncle Winthrop said next thing he supposed theywould begin to improve him and order him to take up his house and walk. For houses were moved even then, when they stood in the way of a street. 

The earth from the hill, or rather hills, went to fill in the Mill Pond. Lord Lyndhurst had once owned a large part, but he had gone to Englandto live. Charles Street was partly laid out--as far as the flats werefilled in. It was quite entertaining to watch the great patient oxen, which, when they were standing still, chewed their cud in solemn contentand gazed around as though they could predict unutterable things. 

From the house down to Common Street was a kind of garden where Catoraised vegetables and Miss Recompense had her beds of sweet andmedicinal herbs. For then the housekeeper concocted various householdremedies, and made extracts by the use of a little still for flavoringand perfumery. She gathered all the rose leaves and lavender blossomsand sewed them up in thin muslin bags and laid them in the drawers andclosets. 

And, oh, what roses she had then! Great sweet damask roses, pink and theloveliest deep red, twice as large as the Jack roses of to-day. Andtrailing pink and white roses climbing over everything. Aunt Elizabethsaid Miss Recompense could make a dry stick grow and bloom. 

Uncle Winthrop found a new and charming interest in the little girl. Shewas so fond of taking walks and hearing the legends about the oldplaces. She could see where the old beacon had stood when the place wascalled Sentry Hill, and she knew it had been blown down in a gale, andthat on the spot had been erected a beautiful Doric column surmounted byan eagle, to commemorate "the train of events that led to the AmericanRevolution and finally secured liberty and Independence. "

But the State House had made one great excavation, and the Mill PondCorporation was making others, and they were planning to remove themonument. 

"We ought to have more regard for these old places, " Uncle Win used tosay with a sigh. 

Cary had not been a companionable child. He was a regular boy, and thegreat point of interest in Sentry Hill for him was batting a ball up thehill. It was a proud day for him when he carried it farther than anyother boy. He was fond of games of all kinds, and was one of thefleetest runners and a fine oarsman, and could sail a boat equal to anyold salt, he thought. He was a boy, of course, and Uncle Win did notwant him to be a "Molly coddle, " so he gave in, for he did not quiteknow what to do with a lad who could tumble more books around in fiveminutes than he could put in order in half an hour, and knew more aboutevery corner in Old Boston than anyone else, and was much more confidentof his knowledge. 

But this little girl, who soon learned the peculiarity of every tree, the song of the different birds, and the season of bloom for wildflowers, and could listen for hours to the incidents of the past, thatseem of more vital importance to middle-aged people than the matters ofevery day, was a veritable treasure to Mr. Winthrop Adams. He did notmind if she could not knit a stocking, and he sometimes excused herdeficiencies in arithmetic because she was so fond of hearing him readpoetry. For Doris thought, of all the things in the world, being able towrite verses was the most delightful, and that was her aim when she wasa grown-up young lady. She did pick up a good deal of general knowledgethat she would not have acquired at school, but Uncle Win wasn't quitesure how much a girl ought to be educated. 

She began to see considerable of the Chapman girls, and Madam Royallgrew very fond of her. But she did not forget her dear friends inSudbury Street. Sometimes when Uncle Win was going out to a supper or tostay away all the evening she would go up and spend the night withBetty, and sit in the old corner, for it was Uncle Leverett's favoriteplace whether there was fire or not. He was as fond as ever of listeningto her chatter. 

She always brought a message to Aunt Priscilla about Solomon. UncleWinthrop thought him the handsomest cat he had ever seen, and nowSolomon was not even afraid of Cato, but would walk about the gardenwith him, and Miss Recompense said he was so much company when she, Doris, was out of the house. 

Indeed, he would look at her with inquiring eyes and a soft, questioningsound in his voice that was not quite a mew. 

"Yes, " Miss Recompense would say, "Doris has gone up to Sudbury Street. We miss her, don't we, Solomon? It's a different house without her. "

Solomon would assent in a wise fashion. 

"I never did think to take comfort in talking to a cat, " Miss Recompensewould say to herself with a touch of sarcasm. 

About the middle of June, when roses and spice pinks and ten-weeks'stocks, and sweet-williams were at their best, Mr. Adams always gave afamily gathering at which cousins to the third and fourth generationwere invited. Everything was at its loveliest, and the Mall just acrossthe street was resplendent in beauty. Even then it had magnificent treesand great stretches of grass, green and velvety. Already it was afavorite strolling place. 

Miss Recompense had sent a special request for Betty on that particularafternoon and evening. There was to be a high tea at five o'clock. 

"I shall have my new white frock all done, " said Betty delightedly. "There is just a little needlework around the neck and the skirt to sewon. "

"But I wouldn't wear it, " rejoined her mother. "You may get a fruitstain on it, or meet with some accident. Miss Recompense will expect youto work a little. "

"Have you anything new, Doris?"

"Oh, yes, " replied Doris. "A white India muslin, and a cambric with atiny rosebud in it. Madam Royall chose them and ordered them made. AndBetty, I have almost outgrown the silk already. Madam Royall is goingto see about getting it altered. And in the autumn Helen Chapman willhave a birthday company, and I am invited already, or my frock is, " andDoris laughed. "She has made me promise to wear it then. "

"You go to the Royalls' a good deal, " exclaimed Aunt Priscillajealously. She was sitting in a high-backed chair, very straight andprim. She was not quite at home yet, and kept wondering if she wouldn'trather have her own house if she could get a reasonable sort of servant. Still, she did enjoy the sociable side of life, and it was pleasant hereat Cousin Leverett's. They all tried to make her feel at home, andthough Betty tormented her sometimes by a certain argumentativeness, shewas very ready to wait on her. Aunt Priscilla did like to hear of thedelightful entertainments her silk gown had gone to after being hiddenaway so many years. As for the hat, a young Englishman had said "Shelooked like a princess in it. "

"You are just eaten up with vanity, Betty Leverett, " Aunt Priscillatried to rejoin in her severest tone. 

Doris glanced over to her now. 

"Yes, " she answered. "Uncle Winthrop thinks I ought to know somethingabout little girls. Eudora is six months older than I am. They have sucha magnificent swing, four girls can sit in it. Helen is studying Frenchand the young ladies can talk a little. They do not see how I can talkso fast. "

Doris laughed gleefully. Aunt Priscilla sniffed. Winthrop Adams wouldmake a flighty, useless girl out of her. And companying so much withrich people would fill her mind with vanity. Yes, the child would beruined!

"And we tell each other stories about _our_ Boston. This Boston, " makinga pretty gesture with her hand, "has the most splendid ones about thewar and all, and the ships coming over here almost two hundred yearsago. It is a long while to live one hundred years, even. But I knewabout Mr. Cotton and the lady Arabella Johnston. They had not heardabout the saint and how his body was carried around to make it rain. "

"To make it rain! Whose body was it, pray?" asked Aunt Priscillasharply, scenting heresy. She was not quite sure but so much Frenchwould shut one out from final salvation. "Did you have saints in OldBoston?"

"Oh, it was the old Saint of the Church--St. Botolph. " Doris hesitatedand glanced up at Uncle Leverett, who nodded. "He was a very, very goodman, " she resumed seriously. "And one summer there was a very longdrought. The grass all dried up, the fruit began to fall off, and theywere afraid there would be nothing for the cattle to feed upon. So theytook up St. Botolph in his coffin and carried him all around the town, praying as they went. And it began to rain. "

"Stuff and nonsense! The idea of reasonable human beings believingthat!"

"But you know the prophet prayed for rain in the Bible. "

"But to take up his body! Are they doing it now in a dry time?" AuntPriscilla asked sarcastically. 

"They don't now, but it was said they did it several times, and italways rained. "

"They wan't good orthodox Christians. No one ever heard of such athing. "

"But our orthodox Christians believed in witches--even the descendantsof this very John Cotton who came over to escape the Lords Bishops, "said Warren. 

"And, unlike Mr. Blacksone, stayed and had a hard time with the LordsBrethren, " said Mr. Leverett. "I hardly know which was theworst"--smiling with a glint of humor. "And you more than half believein witches yourself, Aunt Priscilla. "

"I am sure I have reason to. Grandmother Parker was a good woman if everthere was one, and she _was_ bewitched. And would it have said in theBible--'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live, ' if there had not beenany?"

"They were telling stories at Madam Royall's one day. And sometime UncleWinthrop is going to take us all to Marblehead, where Mammy Redd lived. Eudora said this:

 "'Old Mammy Redd Of Marblehead Sweet milk could turn To mold in churn. '

And Uncle Winthrop has a big book about them. "

"He had better take you to Salem. That was the very hot-bed of it all, "said Warren. 

Doris came around to Aunt Priscilla. "Did your grandmother really see awitch?" she asked in a serious tone. 

"Well, perhaps she didn't exactly _see_ it. But she was living at Salemand had a queer neighbor. One day they had some words, and whengrandmother went to churn her milk turned all moldy and spoiled thebutter. Grandmother didn't even dare feed it to the pigs. So it went onseveral times. Then another neighbor said to her, 'The next time ithappens you just throw a dipper-full over the back log. ' And sograndmother did. It made an awful smell and smoke. Then she washed outher churn and put it away. She was barely through when someone camerunning in, and said, 'Have you any sweet oil, Mrs. Parker? Hetty Laneset herself afire cleaning the cinders out of her oven, and she'sdreadfully burned. Come right over. ' Grandmother was a little afraid, but she went, and, sure enough, it had happened just the moment shethrew the milk in the fire. One side of her was burned, and one hand. And although the neighbors suspected her, they were all very kind to herwhile she was ill. But grandmother had no more trouble after that, andit was said Hetty Lane never bewitched anybody again. "

"It's something like the kelpies and brownies Barby used to tell aboutthat were in England long time ago, " said Doris, big-eyed. "They hidtools and ate up the food and spoiled the milk and the bread, turning itto stone. They went away--perhaps someone burned them up. "

Aunt Priscilla gave her sniff. To be compared with such childish stuff!

"It was very curious, " said Mrs. Leverett. "I have always been glad Iwas not alive at that time. Sometimes unaccountable things happen. "

"Did you ever see a truly witch yourself, Aunt Priscilla?" asked thechild. 

"No, I never did, " she answered honestly. 

"Then I guess they did go with the fairies and kelpies. Could I tellyour story over sometime?" she inquired eagerly. 

Telling ghost stories and witch stories was quite an amusement at thatperiod. 

"Why, yes--if you want to. " She was rather pleased to have it go to theRoyalls'. 

"The last stitch, " and Betty folded up her work. "Come, Doris, saygood-night, and let us go to bed. "

Doris put a little kiss on Aunt Priscilla's wrinkled hand. 

CHAPTER XV

A FREEDOM SUIT

Aunt Priscilla had a dozen changes of mind as to whether to go to CousinAdams' or not. But Betty insisted. She trimmed her cap and altered thesleeves of her best black silk gown. The elderly people were wearing"leg-o'-mutton" sleeves now, while the young people had great puffs. Long straight Puritan sleeves were hardly considered stylish. And thenCousin Win sent the chaise up for her. 

Mrs. March, Cary's aunt, had come up to Boston to make a little visit. Mr. March was a ship builder at Plymouth. She was quite anxious to seethis cousin that Cary had talked about so much, and she was almostjealous lest he should be crowded out of his rightful place. She had nochildren of her own, but her husband had four when they were married. Soa kind of motherly sympathy still went out to Cary. 

Betty came over in the morning. She and Miss Recompense were always veryfriendly. They talked of jells and jams and preserves; it was too earlyfor any fresh fruit except strawberries, and Cato always took a gooddeal of pains to have these of the very nicest. 

The wide fireplace was filled in with green boughs and the shiningleaves of "bread and butter. " The rugs were taken up and the floor had acoat of polish. The parlor was wide open, arrayed in the statelyfurnishings of a century ago. There were two Louis XIV. Chairs that hadreally come from France. There were some square, heavy pieces offurniture that we should call Eastlake now. And the extravagant thingwas a Brussels carpet with a scroll centerpiece and a border inarabesque. 

The guests began to come at two. Miss Recompense and Betty had beenarranging the long table with its thick basket-work cloth that wasfragrant with sweet scents. Betty wore her blue and white silk, as thathad met with some mishaps at Hartford. Miss Recompense had on a brownsilk with a choice bit of thread lace, and a thread lace cap. Many ofthe elderly society ladies wore immense headgears like turbans, withsometimes one or two marabou feathers, which were considered extremelyelegant. But Miss Recompense kept to her small rather plain cap, andlooked very ladylike, quite fit to do the honors of the house. 

Some of the cousins had driven in from Cambridge and South Boston. MissCragie, who admired her second-cousin Adams very much, and it was saidwould not have been averse to a marriage with him, came over from theold house that had once been Washington's headquarters and was to bemore famous still as the home of one of America's finest poets. She tooka great interest in Cary and made him a welcome guest. 

We should call it a kind of lawn party now. The guests flitted aroundthe garden and lawn, inspected the promising fruit trees, and wereenthusiastic over the roses. Then they wandered over to the Mall anddiscussed the impending changes in Boston, and said, as people nearlyalways do, that it would be ruined by improvements. It was sacrilegiousto take away Beacon Hill. It was absurd to think of filling in theflats! Who would want to live on made ground? And where were all thepeople to come from to build houses on these wonderful streets? Why, itwas simply ridiculous!

There were some young men who felt rather awkward and kept in a littleknot with Cary. There were a few young girls who envied Betty Leveretther at-homeness, and the fact that she had spent a winter in Hartford. Croquet would have been a boon then, to make a breach in the walls ofdeadly reserve. 

Elderly men smoked, walked about, and talked of the prospect of war. Most of them had high hopes of President Madison just now. 

Doris was a point of interest for everybody. Her charming simplicitywent to all hearts. Betty had dressed her hair a dozen different ways, but found none so pretty as tying part of the curls on top with aribbon. She had grown quite a little taller, but was still slim andfair. 

Miss Cragie took a great fancy to her and said she must come and spendthe day with her and visit the notable points of Cambridge. And nextyear Cary would graduate, and she supposed they would have a grand time. 

The supper was quite imposing. Cato's nephew, a tidy young colored lad, came from one of the inns, and acquitted himself with superior elegance. It was indeed a feast, enlivened with bright conversation. Peopleexpected to talk then, not look bored and indifferent. Each one broughtsomething besides appetite to the feast. 

Afterward they went out on the porch and sang, the ice being brokenbetween the younger part of the company. There were some amusingpatriotic songs with choruses that inspired even the older people. "Hail, Columbia!" was greeted with applause. 

There were sentimental songs as well, Scotch and old English ballads. Two of Cary's friends sang "Queen Mary's Escape" with a great deal ofspirit. Then Uncle Win asked Doris if she could not sing a little Frenchsong that she sang for him quite often, and that was set to a verytouching melody. 

She hung back and colored up, but she did want to please Uncle Win. Shewas standing beside him, so she straightened up and took a step out, andholding his hand sang with a grace that went to each heart. But she hidherself behind Uncle Win's shoulder when the compliments began. Carycame around, and said "She need not be afraid; it was just beautiful!"

After that the company began to disperse. Everybody said "It always wasdelightful to come over here, " and the women wondered how it happenedthat such an attractive man as Mr. Winthrop Adams had not married againand had someone to entertain regularly. 

There was a magnificent full moon, and the air was delicious withfragrance. One after another drove away, or taking the arm of acompanion uttered a cordial good-night. Mr. Adams had sent some elderlyfriends home in a carriage, and begged the Leveretts to wait until itcame back. 

Warren had not been very intimate with the young collegian; their walksin life lay quite far apart. But Cary came and joined them as they wereall out on the porch. 

"I hope you had a pleasant time, " he began. "If it had not been a familyparty I should have asked the club to come over and sing some of thecollege songs. Arthur Sprague has a fine voice. And you sing very well, Warren. "

"I have been in a singing class this winter, I like music so much. "

"You ought to hear half a dozen of our fellows together! But this littlebird warbled melodiously, " and he put his arm over the shoulder ofDoris. "I did not know she could move an audience so deeply. "

"I was so frightened at first, " began Doris with a long breath. "I don'tmind singing for Uncle Win, and one day when there were some guestsMadam Royall asked me to sing a little French song she had known in heryouth. Isn't it queer a song should last so long?"

"The fine songs ought to last forever. I hope we will have some nationalsongs presently besides the ridiculous 'Yankee Doodle. ' It doesn't seemquite so bad when it is played by the band and men are marching to it. "

Cary straightened himself up. Being slender he often allowed hisshoulders to droop. 

"Now you look like a soldier, " exclaimed Warren. 

"I'd like to be one, first-rate. I'd leave college now and go in theNavy if there was another boy to follow out father's plans. But I can'tbear to disappoint him. It's hard to go against your father when you areall he has. So I suppose I will go on and study law, and some day youwill hear of my being judge. But we are going to have a big war, and Iwould like to take a hand in it. I wish I was twenty-one. "

"I shall be next month. I am going to have a little company. I'd likeyou to come, Cary. "

"I just will, thank you. What are you going to do?"

"I shall stay with father, of course. I have been learning the business. I think I shouldn't like to go to war unless the enemy really came tous. I should fight for my home. "

"There are larger questions even than homes, " replied Cary. 

Betty came around the corner of the porch with Uncle Win, to whom shewas talking in her bright, energetic fashion. Aunt Elizabeth said it wasvery pleasant to see so many of the relatives again. 

"The older generation is dropping out, and we shall soon be among theold people ourselves, " Mr. Leverett said. "I was thinking to-night howmany youngish people were here who have grown up in the last ten years. "

"We each have a young staff to lean upon, " rejoined Mr. Adams proudly, glancing at the two boys. 

The carriage came round. Aunt Priscilla shook hands with CousinWinthrop, and said, much moved:

"I've had a pleasant time, and I had a good mind not to come. I'mgetting old and queer and not fit for anything but to sit in the cornerand grumble, instead of frolicking round. "

"Oh, don't grumble. Why, I believe I am going backward. I feel ten yearsyounger, and you are not old enough to die of old age. Betty, you mustkeep prodding her up. "

He handed her in the carriage himself, and when they were all in Dorissaid:

"It seems as if I ought to go, too. "

Uncle Win caught her hand, as if she might run away. 

"I do think Cousin Winthrop has improved of late, " said Mrs. Leverett. "He has gained a little flesh and looks so bright and interested, and hetalked to all the folks in such a cordial way, as if he was really gladto see them. And those strawberries did beat all for size. Betty, thetable looked like a feast for a king, if they deserve anything betterthan common folks. "

"Any other child would be clear out of bonds and past redemption, "declared Aunt Priscilla. "Everybody made so much of her, as if it washer party. And how the little creetur does sing! I'd like to hear herpraising the Lord with that voice instead of wasting it on French thingsthat may be so bad you couldn't say them in good English. "

"That isn't, " replied Betty. "It is a little good-night that her motherused to sing to her and taught her. "

Aunt Priscilla winked hard and subsided. A little orphan girl--well, Cousin Winthrop would be a good father to her. Perhaps no one would everbe quite tender enough for her mother. 

Everybody went home pleased. Yet nowadays such a family party would havebeen dull and formal, with no new books and theaters and plays andtennis and golf to talk about, and the last ball game, perhaps. Therehad been a kind of gracious courtesy in inquiries about each other'sfamilies--a true sympathy for the deaths and misfortunes, a kindlypleasure in the successes, a congratulation for the younger members ofthe family growing up, a little circling about religion and the recentrather broad doctrines the clergy were entertaining. For it was a timeof ferment when the five strong points of Calvinism were being severelyshaken, and the doctrine of election assaulted by the doctrine that, since Christ died for all, all might in some mysterious manner share thebenefit without being ruled out by their neighbors. 

Winthrop Adams would hardly have dreamed that the presence of a littlegirl in the house was stirring every pulse in an unwonted fashion. Hehad brooded over books so long; now he took to nature and saw manythings through the child's fresh, joyous sight. He brushed up hisstories of half-forgotten knowledge for her; he recalled his boyhood'slore of birds and squirrels, bees and butterflies, and began to feastanew on the beauty of the world and all things in their season. 

It is true, in those days knowledge and literature were not widelydiffused. A book or two of sermons, the "Pilgrim's Progress, " perhaps"Fox's Book of Martyrs, " and the Farmer's Almanac were the extent ofliterature in most families. Women had too much to do to spend theirtime reading except on Saturday evening and after second service on theSabbath--then it must be religious reading. 

But Boston was beginning to stir in the education of its women. Mrs. Abigail Adams had said, "If we mean to have heroes, statesmen, andphilosophers, we should have learned women. " They started a circle ofsociality that was to be above the newest pattern for a gown and thelatest recipe for cake or preserves. A Mrs. Grant had written a volumecalled "Letters from the Mountains, " which they interested themselves inhaving republished. Hannah Adams had written some valuable works, andwas now braiding straw for a living; and Mrs. Josiah Quincy exertedherself to have so talented a woman placed above indigence. She alsoendeavored to have Miss Edgeworth's "Moral Tales" republished for youngpeople. Scott was beginning to infuse new life with his wonderful tales, which could safely be put in the hands of younger readers. The firstdecade of the century was laying a foundation for the grand work to bedone later on. And with nearly every vessel, or with the travelers fromabroad, would come some new books from England. Though they were dear, yet there were a few "foolish" people who liked a book better thanseveral dollars added to their savings. 

Warren's freedom suit and his freedom party interested Doris a greatdeal. Since Betty's return there had been several evening companies, with the parlor opened and the cake and lemonade set out on the tableinstead of being passed around. Betty and Jane Morse were fast friends. They went "uptown" of an afternoon and had a promenade, with now andthen a nod from some of the quality. Betty was very much elated whenCary Adams walked home with her one afternoon and planned about theparty. He would ask three of the young fellows, and with himself theywould give some college songs. He knew Miss Morse's cousin, MorrisWinslow, very well--he met him quite frequently at the Royalls'. Indeed, Cary knew he was a warm admirer of Isabel Royall. 

After all, the much-talked-of suit was only a best Sunday suit of blackbroadcloth. Doris looked disappointed. 

"Did you expect I would have red and white stripes down the sides andblue stars all over the coat?" Warren asked teasingly. "And an eagle onthe buttons? I am afraid then I should be impressed and taken out tosea. "

"Betty, " she said afterward, "will you have a freedom suit when you aretwenty-one. And must it be a black gown?"

"I think they never give girls that, " answered Betty laughingly. "Theirsis a wedding gown. Though after you are twenty-one, if you go anywhereand earn money, you can keep it for yourself. Your parents cannot claimit. "

Warren had a holiday. His father said he did not want to see him nearthe store all day long. He went over to Uncle Win's, who was just havingsome late cherries picked to grace the feast, and he was asked into thelibrary, where Uncle Win made him a very pleasant little birthday speechand gave him a silver watch to remember the occasion by. Warren was sosurprised he hardly knew how to thank him. 

Betty was sorry there could be no dancing at the party, especially asMr. Winslow had offered black Joe. But mother would be so opposed theydid not even suggest it. 

The young people began to gather about seven. They congratulated thehero of the occasion, and one young fellow recited some amusing verses. They played games and forfeits and had a merry time. The Cambridge boyssang several beautiful songs, and others of the gay, rollicking order. The supper table looked very inviting, Betty thought. Altogether it wasa great pleasure to the young people, who kept it up quite late, butthen it was such a delightful summer night! Doris thought the singingthe most beautiful part of all. 

Warren's great surprise occurred the next morning. There was a new signup over the door in the place of the old weather-beaten one that hisfather had admitted was disgraceful. And on it in nice fresh letteringwas:

 F. LEVERETT & SON. 

"Oh, father!" was all he could say for a moment. 

"Hollis was a good, steady boy--I've been blest in my boys, and I thankGod for it, so when Hollis was through with his trade, and had that goodopportunity to go in business, I advanced him some money. He has beenprospered and would have paid it back, but I told him to keep it for hispart. This will be your offset to it. Cousin Winthrop is coming downpresently, and Giles Thatcher, and we will have all the papers signed, so that if anything happens to me there will be no trouble. You've beena good son, Warren, and I hope you will make a good, honorable man. "

The tears sprang to Warren's eyes. He was very glad he had yielded somepoints to his father and accepted obedience as his due to be renderedcheerfully. For Mr. Leverett had never been an unreasonable man. 

Uncle Win congratulated him again. Betty and her mother went down in theafternoon to see the new sign. Aunt Priscilla thought it rather riskybusiness, for being twenty-one didn't always bring good sense with it, and too much liberty was apt to spoil anyone with no more experiencethan Warren. 

Betty said Aunt Priscilla must have something to worry about, which wastrue enough. She had come to the Leveretts' to see how she could stand"being without a home, " as she phrased it. But she found herself quitefeeble, and with a cough, and she admitted she never had quite gottenover the winter's cold which she took going to church that bitterSunday. As just the right person to keep her house had not come to hand, and as it really was cheaper to live this way, and gave one a securefeeling in case of illness, she thought it best to go on. ElizabethLeverett made her feel very much at home. She could go down in thekitchen and do a bit of work when she wanted to, she could weed a littleout in the garden, she could mend and knit and pass away the time, andit was a pleasure to have someone to converse with, to argue with. 

She had been in great trouble at first about black Polly. That she hadreally entertained the thought of getting rid of her in a helpless oldage seemed a great sin now. 

"And the poor old thing had been so faithful until she began to lose hermemory. How could I have resolved to do such a thing!" she wouldexclaim. 

"You never did resolve to do it, Aunt Priscilla, " Mr. Leverett said oneday. "I am quite sure you could not have done it when it came to thepinch. It was one of the temptations only. "

"But I never struggled against it. That is what troubles me. "

"God knew just how it would end. He did not mean the poor creature tobecome a trouble to anyone. If he had wanted to try you further, nodoubt he would have done it. Now, why can't you accept the release ashe sent it? It seems almost as if you couldn't resign yourself to hiswisdom. "

"You make religion so comfortable, Foster Leverett, that I hardly knowwhether to take it that way. It isn't the old-fashioned way in which Iwas brought up. "

"There was just one Doubting Thomas among the Twelve, " he repliedsmilingly. 

There was little need of people going away for a summering then, thoughthey did try to visit their relatives in the country places about. People came up from the more southern States for the cool breezes andthe pleasant excursions everywhere. There were delightful parties goingout almost every day, to the islands lying off the city, to the littletowns farther away, to some places where it was necessary to remain allnight. Madam Royall insisted upon taking Doris with the girls for aweek's excursion, and she had a happy time. Cary went to Plymouth to hisaunt's, and was fascinated with sea-going matters and the naval wars inprogress. Josiah March was a stanch patriot, and said the thing wouldnever be settled until we had taught England to let our men and ourvessels alone. 

Only a few years before our commerce had extended over the world. Boston--with her eighty wharves and quays, her merchants of shrewd andsound judgment, ability of a high order and comprehensive as well asauthentic information--at that time stood at the head of the maritimeworld. The West Indies, China, --though Canton was the only port to whichforeigners were admitted, --and all the ports of Europe had been open toher. The coastwise trade was also enormous. From seventy to eighty sailof vessels had cleared in one day. Long Wharf, at the foot of StateStreet, was one of the most interesting and busy places. 

The treaty between France and America had agreed that "free bottomsmade free ships, " but during the wars of Napoleon this had been soabridged that trade was now practically destroyed. Then England hadinsisted upon the right of search, which left every ship at her mercy, and hundreds of our sailors were being taken prisoners. There was agreat deal of war talk already. Trade was seriously disturbed. 

There was a very strong party opposed to war. What could so young acountry, unprepared in every way, do? The government temporized--triedvarious methods in the hope of averting the storm. 

People began to economize; still there was a good deal of money inBoston. Pleasures took on a rather more economical aspect and grewsimpler. But business was at a standstill. The Leveretts were among thefirst to suffer, but Mr. Leverett's equable temperament and serenephilosophy kept his family from undue anxiety. 

"It's rather a hard beginning for you, my boy, " he said, "but you willhave years enough to recover. Only I sometimes wish it could come to acrisis and be over, so that we could begin again. It can never be quiteas bad as the old war. "

Doris commenced school with the Chapman girls at Miss Parker's. UncleWin had a great fancy for sending her to Mrs. Rowson. 

"Wait a year or so, " counseled Madam Royall. "Children grow up fastenough without pushing them ahead. Little girlhood is the sweetest timeof life for the elderly people, whatever it may be for the girls. Ishould like Helen and Eudora to stand still for a few years, and Dorisis too perfect a little bud to be lured into blossoming. There issomething unusual about the child. "

When anyone praised Doris, Uncle Win experienced a thrill of delight. 

Miss Parker's school was much more aristocratic than Mrs. Webb's. Therewere no boys and no very small children. Some of the accomplishmentswere taught. French, drawing and painting, and what was called the "useof the globe, " which meant a large globe with all the countries of theworld upon it, arranged to turn around on an axis. This was a new thing. Doris was quite fascinated by it, and when she found the North Sea andthe Devonshire coast and the "Wash" the girls looked on eagerly andstraightway she became a heroine. 

But one unlucky recess when she had won in the game of graces a girlsaid:

"I don't care! That isn't anything! We beat your old English in theRevolutionary War, and if there's another war we'll beat you again. Myfather says so. I wouldn't be English for all the gold on the Guineacoast!"

"I am not English, " Doris protested. "My father was born in this veryBoston. And I was born in France. "

"Well, the French are just as bad. They are not to be depended upon. Youare a mean little foreign girl, and I shall not speak to you again, there now!"

Doris looked very sober. Helen Chapman comforted her and said FaithDunscomb was not worth minding. 

She told it over to Uncle Win that evening. 

"I suppose I can never be a real Boston girl, " she said sorrowfully. 

"I think you are a pretty good one now, and of good old Boston stock, "he replied smilingly. "Sometime you will be proud that you came from theother Boston. Oddly enough most of us came from England in thebeginning. And the Faneuils came from France, and they are proud enoughof their old Huguenot blood. "

She had been to Faneuil Hall and the Market with Uncle Winthrop. Theyraised all their vegetables and fruit, unless it was something quiterare, and Cato did the family marketing. 

Only a few years before the Market had been enlarged and improved. Fiftyyears earlier the building had burned down and been replaced, but eventhe old building had been identified with liberty of thought, and had awell-known portrait painter of that day, John Smibert, for itsarchitect. In the later improvements it had been much enlarged, and thebeautiful open arches of the ground floor were closed by doors andwindows, which rendered it less picturesque. It was the marketplace _parexcellence_ then, as Quincy Market came in with the enterprise of thereal city. But even then it rejoiced in the appellation of "The Cradleof Liberty, " and the hall over the market-space was used for politicalgatherings. 

Huckster and market wagons from the country farms congregated in DockSquare. The mornings were the most interesting time for a visit. The"quality" came in their carriages with their servant man to run to andfro; or some young lady on horseback rode up through the busy throng toleave an order, and then the women whose servant carried a basket, orthose having no servant carried their own baskets, and who went aboutcheapening everything. 

So Doris was quite comforted to know that Peter Faneuil, who was held insuch esteem, had not even been born in Boston, and was of Frenchextraction. 

But girls soon get over their tiffs and disputes. Play is the greatleveler. Then Doris was so obliging about the French exercises that thegirls could not stay away very long at a time. 

Miss Parker's typified the conventional idea of a girl's educationprevalent at that time: that it should be largely accomplishment. SoDoris was allowed considerable latitude in the commoner branches. Mrs. Webb had been exacting in the few things she taught, especiallyarithmetic. And Uncle Win admitted to himself that Doris had a poor headfor figures. When she came to fractions it was heartrending. Commonmultiples and least and greatest common divisors had such a way ofgetting mixed up in her brain, that he felt very sorry for her. 

She brought over Betty's book in which all her sums in the moredifficult rules had been worked out and copied beautifully. There werebanking and equation of payments and all the "roots" and progression andalligation and mensuration. 

"I don't know what good they will really be to Betty, " said Uncle Wingravely. Then, as his face relaxed into a half-smile, he added: "PerhapsMary Manning's fifty pairs of stockings she had when she was married maybe more useful. Betty has a good head and "twinkling feet. " Did you knowa poet said that? And another one wrote:

 "'Her feet beneath her petticoat, Like little mice stole in and out As if they feared the light; But, oh, she dances such a way! No sun upon an Easter day Is half so fair a sight. '"

"Oh, Uncle Win, that's just delightful! Did your poet write any moresuch dainty things, and can I read them? Betty would just go wild overthat. "

"Yes, I will find it for you. And we won't worry now about the hardknots over in the back of the arithmetic. "

"Nor about the stockings. Miss Isabel is knitting some beautiful silkones, blossom color. "

Ladies and girls danced in slippers then and wore them for eveningcompany, and stockings were quite a feature in attire. 

Uncle Win was too indulgent, of course. Miss Recompense said she hadnever known a girl to be brought up just that way, and shook her headdoubtfully. 

Early in the new year an event happened, or rather the tidings came tothem that seemed to have a bearing on both of these points. An old seacaptain one day brought a curious oaken chest, brass bound, and withthree brass initials on the top. The key, which was tied up in a smallleathern bag, and a letter stowed away in an enormous well-worn wallet, he delivered to "Mr. Winthrop Adams, Esq. "

It contained an unfinished letter from Miss Arabella, beginning "Dearand Honored Sir, " and another from the borough justice. Miss Arabellawas dead. The care of her sister had worn her so much that she haddropped into a gentle decline, and knowing herself near the end hadpacked the chest with some table linen that belonged to the mother ofDoris, some clothing, two dresses of her own, several petticoats, twopairs of satin slippers she had worn in her youth and outgrown, and sixpairs of silk stockings. Doris would grow into them all presently. 

Then inclosed was a bank note for one hundred pounds sterling, and muchlove and fond remembrances. 

The other note announced the death of Miss Arabella Sophia Roulstone, aged eighty-one years and three months, and the time of her burial. Herwill had been read and the bequests were being paid. Mr. Millingtonrequested a release before a notary, and an acknowledgment of the safearrival of the goods and the legacy, to be returned by the captain. 

Mr. Adams went out with the captain and attended to the business. 

Doris had a little cry over Miss Arabella. It did not seem as if shecould be eighty years old. She could recall the sweet, placid face underthe snowy cap, and almost hear the soft voice. 

"That is quite a legacy, " said Uncle Win. "Doris, can you compute it indollars?"

We had come to have a currency of our own--"decimal" it was called, because computed by tens. 

We still reckoned a good deal in pounds, shillings, and pence, but ourswere not pounds sterling. 

Doris considered and knit her delicate brows. Then a soft lightillumined her face. 

"Why, Uncle Win, it is five hundred dollars! Isn't that a great deal ofmoney for a little girl like me? And must it not be saved up some way?"

"Yes, I think for your wedding day. "

"And then suppose I should not get married?"

CHAPTER XVI

A SUMMER IN BOSTON

The Leveretts rejoiced heartily over Doris' good fortune. Aunt Priscillabegan to trouble herself again about her will. She had taken the usualautumnal cold, but recovered from it with good nursing. CertainlyElizabeth Leverett was very kind. Aunt Priscilla had eased up Bettywhile her mother spent a fortnight at Salem, helping with the fallsewing and making comfortables. And this time she brought home littleRuth, who was thin and peevish, and who had not gotten well over themeasles, that had affected her eyes badly. Ruth was past four. 

"I wish Mary did not take life so hard, " said Mrs. Leverett with asigh. "They have been buying a new twenty-acre pasture lot and two newcows, and it is just drive all the time. That poor little Elizabeth willbe all worn out before she is grown up. And Ruth wouldn't have lived thewinter through there. "

Ruth was extremely troublesome at first. But grandmothers have asoothing art, and after a few weeks she began to improve. The visits ofDoris fairly transported her, and she amused grandpa by asking everymorning "if Doris would come to-day, " having implicit faith in hisknowledge of everything. 

Aunt Priscilla counted on the visits as well. She kept her room a gooddeal. Ruth's chatter disturbed her. Pattern children brought up on thestrictest rules did not seem quite so agreeable to her as the littleflower growing up in its own sweetness. 

Betty used to walk a short distance home with her, as she declared itwas the only chance she had for a bit of Doris. She was very fond ofhearing about the Royalls, and now Miss Isabel's engagement to Mr. Morris Winslow was announced. 

Warren declared Jane was quite "top-loftical" about it. She had beenintroduced to Miss Isabel at an evening company, and then they had metat Thayer's dry goods store, where she and Mrs. Chapman had beenshopping, and had quite a little chat. They bowed in the street, andJane was much pleased at the prospect of being indirectly related. 

But Betty had taken tea at Uncle Winthrop's with Miss Alice Royall, whohad come over with the two little girls to return some of the visitsDoris had made. The girls fell in love with bright, versatile Betty, andAlice was much interested in her visit to Hartford, and thought herquite charming. 

Then it was quite fascinating to compare notes about Mr. Adams with oneof his own kin. Alice made no secret of her admiration for him; thewhole family joined in, for that matter. Young girls could be a littlefree and friendly with elderly gentlemen without exciting comment orhaving to be so precise. 

When Jane said "Cousin Morris told me such or such a thing, " Betty wasdelighted to reply, "Yes, Doris was speaking of it. " The girls were thebest of friends, but this half-unconscious rivalry was natural. 

Mrs. Leverett had no objections to the intimacy now. Betty was older andmore sensible, and now she was really a young lady receivinginvitations, and going out to walk or to shop with the girls. For hardas the times were, a little finery had to be bought, or a gown now andthen. 

Mrs. King had not gone to New York, though her husband had been there onbusiness. She would have been very glad of Betty's company; but withlittle Ruth and Aunt Priscilla, Betty felt she ought not leave hermother. And, then, she was having a young girl's good time at home. 

Mrs. Leverett half wished Jane might "fancy Warren. " She was a smart, attractive, and withal sensible girl. But Warren was not thinking ofgirls just now, or of marrying. The debating society was a source ofgreat interest and nearly every "talk" turned on some aspect of thepossible war. His singing class occupied him one evening, and oneevening was devoted to dancing. He liked Jane very much in a friendlyfashion, and they went on calling each other by their first names, butif he happened to drop in there was almost sure to be other company. 

The "Son" on the business sign over the doorway gave him a great senseof responsibility, especially now when everything was so dull, andmoney, as people said, "came like drawing teeth, " a painful enoughprocess in those days. 

Finally Miss Isabel Royall's wedding day was set for early in June. Theshopping was quite an undertaking. There were Thayer's dry-goods storeand Daniel Simpson's and Mr. Bromfield's, the greater and the lessershops on Washington and School streets. It was quite a risk now orderingthings from abroad, vessels were interfered with so much. But there wereChina silks and Canton crape, --a beautiful material, --and French andEnglish goods that escaped the enemy; so if you had the money you couldfind enough for an extensive wedding outfit. At home we had also begunto make some very nice woolen goods. 

May came out full of bloom and beauty. Such a shower of blossoms fromcherry, peach, pear, and apple would be difficult now to imagine. Foralmost every house had a yard or a garden. Colonnade Row was among theearliest places to be built up compactly of brick and was consideredvery handsome for the time. 

But people strolled around then to see the beautiful unfolding ofnature. There was the old Hancock House on Beacon Street. The old herohad gone his way, and his wife was now Madam Scott, and lived in thesame house, and though the garden and nursery had been shorn of much oftheir glory, there were numerous foreign trees that were curiouslybeautiful, and people used to make at least one pilgrimage to see theseimmense mulberry trees in bloom. 

The old Bowdoin garden was another remarkable place, and the air aroundwas sweet for weeks with the bloom of fruit trees and later on thegrapes that were raised in great profusion. You sometimes saw elegantold Madam Bowdoin walking up and down the garden paths and thegrandchildren skipping rope or playing tag. 

But Summer Street, with its crown of beauty, held its head as high asany of its neighbors. 

"I don't see why May should be considered unlucky for weddings, " Isabelprotested. "I should like to be married in a bower of apple blossoms. "

"But isn't a bower of roses as beautiful?"

"And the snow of the cherries and pears! Think of it--fragrant snow!"

But Isabel gave parties to her friends, and they took tea out under thegreat apple tree and were snowed on with every soft wave of wind. 

It was not necessary then to go into seclusion. The bride-elect tookpleasure in showing her gowns and her finery to her dearest friends. Shewas to be married in grandmother's brocade. Her own mother had it lentto her for the occasion. It was very handsome and could almost "standalone. " There were great flowers that looked as if they were embroideredon it, and now it had assumed an ivory tint. Two breadths had been takenout of the skirt, people were so slim at present. But the court trainwas left. The bertha, as we should call it now, was as a cobweb, and thelace from the puff sleeve falling over the arm of the same elegantmaterial. 

It was good luck to borrow something to be married in, and good luck tohave something old as well as the something new. 

Morris Winslow had been quite a beau about town. He was thirty now, tenyears older than Isabel. He had a big house over in Dorchester andalmost a farm. He owned another in Boston, where a tavern of the highersort was kept and rooms rented to bachelors. He had an apartment hereand kept his servant Joe and his handsome team, besides his saddlehorse. He was rather gay, but of good moral character. No one elsewould have been accepted as a lover at the Royalls'. 

Jane was invited to one of the teas. People had not come to calling them"Dove" parties yet, nor had breakfasts or luncheon parties come in voguefor such occasions. There were about a dozen girls. They inspected thewedding outfit, they played graces, they sang songs, and had tea inMadam Royall's old china that had come to America almost a hundred yearsbefore. 

Afterward several young gentlemen called, and they walked up and down inthe moonlight. A young lady could invite her own escort, especially ifshe was "keeping company. " Sometimes the mothers sent a servant to fetchhome their daughters. 

Of course Jane had an invitation to the wedding. Alice and a friend wereto be bridesmaids, and the children were to be gowned in simple whitemuslin, with bows and streamers of pink satin ribbon and strew roses inthe bride's path. They were flower maidens. Dorcas Payne was asked, andMadam Royall begged Mr. Adams to allow his niece to join them. Theywould all take it as a great favor. 

"The idea!" cried Aunt Priscilla; "and she no relation! If the queen wasto come to Boston I dare say Doris Adams would be asked to turn out tomeet her! Well, I hope her pretty face won't ever get her into trouble. "

It was a beautiful wedding, everybody said. The great rooms and thehalls were full of guests, but they kept a way open for the bride, whocame downstairs on her lover's arm, and he looked very proud and manly. The bridesmaids and groomsmen stood one couple at each side. The littlegirls strewed their flowers and then stood in a circle, and the brideswept gracefully to the open space and turned to face the guests. Themaid was a little excited when she pulled off the bride's glove, butall went well, and Isabel Royall was at her very best. 

While the kissing and congratulations were going on, four violins struckup melodious strains. It was just six o'clock then. The bride and groomstood for a while in the center of the room, then marched around andsmiled and talked, and finally went out to the dining room, where thefeast was spread, and where the bride had to cut the cake. 

Cary Adams was among the young people. He was a great favorite withAlice, and a welcome guest, if he did not come quite as often as hisfather. 

One of the prettiest things afterward was the minuet danced by the fourlittle girls, and after that two or three cotillions were formed. Thebride danced with both of the groomsmen, and the new husband with bothof the bridesmaids. Then their duty was done. 

They were to drive over to Dorchester that night, so presently theystarted. Two or three old slippers were thrown for good luck. Several ofthe younger men were quite nonplused at this arrangement, for they hadplanned some rather rough fun in a serenade, thinking the bridal couplewould stay in town. 

There were some amusements, jesting and laughter, some card-playing andhealth-drinking among the elders. The guests congratulated Madam Royallnearly as much as they had the bride. Then one after another came andbade her good-night, and took away their parcel of wedding cake to dreamon. 

"Oh, " cried Doris on the way home, --the night was so pleasant they werewalking, --"oh, wasn't it splendid! I wish Betty could have been there. Cary, how old must you be before you can get married?"

"Well--I should have to look up a girl. "

"Oh, take Miss Alice. She likes you ever so much--I heard her say so. But you haven't any house like Mr. Winslow. Uncle Win, couldn't he bringher home to live with us?"

Cary's cheeks were in a red flame. Uncle Win laughed. 

"My dear, " he began, "a young man must have some business or some moneyto take care of his wife. She wouldn't like to be dependent on hisrelatives. Cary is going to study law, which will take some years, thenhe must get established, and so we will have to wait a long while. He istoo young. Mr. Winslow is thirty; Cary isn't twenty yet. "

"Oh, dear! Well, perhaps Betty will get married. The girl doesn't haveto be so old?"

"No, " said Uncle Win. 

Betty came over the next morning to spend the day and help MissRecompense to distill. She wanted to hear the first account from Dorisand Uncle Win, to take off the edge of Jane's triumphant news. 

They made rose water and a concoction from the spice pinks. Then theypreserved cherries. Uncle Win took them driving toward night and saidsome day they would go over to Dorchester. He had several friends there. 

The next excitement for Doris was the college commencement. Mr. Adamswas disappointed that his son should not stand at the head of almosteverything. He had taken one prize and made some excellent examinations, but there were many ranking as high and some higher. 

There were no ball games, no college regattas to share honors then. Notthat these things were tabooed. There were some splendid rowing matchesand games, but then young men had a desire to stand high intellectually. 

A long while before Judge Sewall had expressed his disapproval of theexcesses at dinners, the wine-drinking and conviviality, and had setFriday for commencement so that there would be less time for frolicking. The war, with its long train of economies, and the greater seriousnessof life in general, had tempered all things, but there was gayety enoughnow, with dinners given to the prize winners and a very generaljollification. 

Doris went with Uncle Winthrop. Commencement was one of the greatoccasions of the year. All the orations were in Latin, and the young menmight have been haranguing a Roman army, so vigorous were they. Many ofthe graduates were very young; boys really studied at that time. 

The remainder of the day and the one following were given over tofestivities. Booths were everywhere on the ground; colors flying, flowers wreathed in every fashion, and so much merriment that they quiteneeded Judge Sewall back again to restrain the excesses. 

Mr. Adams and Doris went to dine at the Cragie House, and Doris wouldhave felt quite lost among judges and professors but for Miss Cragie, who took her in charge. When they went home in the early evening theshouts and songs and boisterousness seemed like a perfect orgy. 

Someone has said, with a kind of dry wit, "Wherever an Englishman goescourts and litigation are sure to prevail. " Certainly our New Englandforefathers, who set out with the highest aims, soon found it necessaryto establish law courts. In the early days every man pleaded his owncause, and was especially versed in the "quirks of the law. " JeremyGridley, a graduate of Harvard, interested himself in forming a law clubin the early part of the previous century to pursue the study enough "tokeep out of the briars. " And to Justice Dana is ascribed the credit ofadministering to Mr. Secretary Oliver, standing under the Liberty Treein a great assemblage of angry townspeople, an oath that he would takeno measures to enforce the odius Stamp Act of the British Parliament ordistribute it among the people. 

And now the bar had a rank of its own, and Winthrop Adams had a strongdesire to see his son one of the shining lights in the profession. Caryhad a fine voice and was a good speaker. More than once he haddistinguished himself in an argument at some of the debates. To beadmitted to the office of Governor Gore was considered a high honorthen, and this Mr. Adams gained for his son. Cary had another vaguedream, but parental authority in well-bred families was not to bedisputed at that period, and Cary acquiesced in his father's decision, since he knew his own must bring about much discussion and probably arefusal. 

Mrs. King came to visit her mother this summer. She left all herchildren at home, as she wanted to visit round, and was afraid theymight be an annoyance to Aunt Priscilla. Little Ruth had gone home verymuch improved, her eyes quite restored. 

Uncle Winthrop enjoyed Mrs. King's society very much. She wasintelligent and had cultivated her natural abilities, she also had acertain society suavity that made her an agreeable companion. Doristhought her a good deal like Betty, she was so pleasant and ready forall kinds of enjoyment. Aunt Priscilla considered her very frivolous, and there was so much going and coming that she wondered Elizabeth didnot get crazy over it. 

They were to remove to New York in the fall, Mr. King having perfectedhis business arrangements. So Betty would have her winter in the gaycity after all. 

There were many delightful excursions with pleasure parties up and downthe bay. The Embargo had been repealed, and the sails of merchant shipswere again whitening the harbor, and business people breathed morefreely. 

There were Castle Island, with its fortifications and its waving flag, and queer old dreary-looking Noddle's Island, also little towns andsettlements where one could spend a day delightfully. Every place, itseemed to Doris, had some queer, interesting story, and she possessed aninsatiable appetite for them. There was the great beautiful sweep ofBoston Bay, with its inlets running around the towns and its greenislands everywhere--places that had been famous and had suffered in thewar, and were soon to suffer again. 

Mrs. King had a friend at Hingham, and one day they went there in a sortof family party. Uncle Winthrop obtained a carriage and drove themaround. It was still famous for its wooden-ware factories, and Uncle Winsaid in the time of Governor Andros, when money was scarce among theearly settlers, Hingham had paid its taxes in milk pails, but theydecided the taxes could not have been very high, or the fame of the milkpails must have been very great. 

Mrs. Gerry said in the early season forget-me-nots grew wild all about, and the ground was blue with them. 

"Oh, Uncle Win, let us come and see them next year, " cried Doris. 

Then they hunted up the old church that had been nearly rent asunder bythe bringing in of a bass viol to assist the singers. Party spirit hadrun very high. The musical people had quoted the harps and sacbuts ofKing David's time, the trumpets and cymbals. At last the big bass violwon the victory and was there. And the hymn was:

 "Oh, may my heart in tune be found, Like David's harp of solemn sound. "

But the old minister was not to be outdone. The hymn was lined off inthis fashion:

 "Oh, may my heart go diddle, diddle, Like Uncle David's sacred fiddle. "

There were still a great many people opposed to instrumental music andwho could see no reverence in the organ's solemn sound. 

Uncle Winthrop smiled over the story, and Betty said it would do to tellto Aunt Priscilla. 

Betty begged that they might take Doris to Salem with them. Doristhought she should like to see the smart little Elizabeth, who was likea woman already, and her old playfellow James, as well as Ruth, whoseemed to her hardly beyond babyhood. And there were all the weird oldstories--she had read some of them in Cotton Mather's "Magnalia, " andbegged others from Miss Recompense, who did not quite know whether shebelieved them or not, but she said emphatically that people had beenmistaken and there was no such thing as witches. 

"A whole week!" said Uncle Winthrop. "Whatever shall I do without alittle girl that length of time?"

"But you have Cary now, " she returned archly. 

Cary was a good deal occupied with young friends and college associates. Now and then he went over to Charlestown and stayed all night with oneof his chums. 

"I suppose I ought to learn how it will be without you when you want togo away in real earnest. "

"I am never going away. "

"Suppose Mrs. King should invite you to New York? She has some littlegirls. "

"You might like to go, " she returned with a touch of hesitation. 

"To see the little girls?" smilingly. 

"To see a great city. Do you suppose they are very queer--and Dutch?"

He laughed at that. 

"But the Dutch people went there and settled, just as the Puritans camehere. And I think I like the Dutch because they have such a merry timeat Christmas. We read about them in history at school. "

"And then the English came, you know. I think now there is not much thatwould suggest Holland. I have been there. "

Then Doris was eager to know what it was like, and Uncle Winthrop wasinterested in telling her. They forgot all about Salem--at least, Dorisdid until she was going to bed. 

"If you _do_ go you must be very careful a witch does not catch you, forI couldn't spare my little girl altogether. "

"Uncle Winthrop, I am going to stay with you always. When MissRecompense gets real old and cannot look after things I shall be yourhousekeeper. "

"When Miss Recompense reaches old age I am afraid I shall be quaking forvery fear. "

"But it takes a long while for people to get very old, " she returneddecisively. 

Betty came over the next day to tell her they would start on Thursdaymorning, and were going in a sloop to Marblehead with a friend of herfather's, Captain Morton. 

It was almost like going to sea, Doris thought. They had to thread theirway through the islands and round Winthrop Head. There was Grover'sCliff, and then they went out past Nahant into the broad, beautiful bay, where you could see the ocean. It seemed ages ago since she had crossedit. They kept quite in to the green shores and could see Lynn andSwampscott, then they rounded one more point and came to Marblehead, where Captain Morton stopped to unload his cargo, while they went on toSalem. 

At the old dock they were met by a big boy and a country wagon. This wasFoster Manning, the eldest grandson of the family. 

"Oh, " cried Betty in amazement, "how you have grown! It _is_ Foster?"

He smiled and blushed under the sunburn--a thin, angular boy, tall forhis age, with rather large features and light-brown hair with tawnystreaks in it. But his gray-blue eyes were bright and honest-looking. 

"Yes, 'm, " staring at the others, for he had at the moment forgotten hisaunt's looks. 

Betty introduced them. 

"I should not have known you, " said Aunt Electa. "But boys change a gooddeal in two years or so. "

They were helped in the wagon, more by Betty than Foster, who wasevidently very bashful. They drove up past the old Court House, throughthe main part of the town, which even then presented a thrivingappearance with its home industries. But the seaport trade had beensadly interfered with by the rumors and apprehensions of war. At thattime it was quaint and country-looking, with few pretensions toarchitectural beauty. There was old Gallows Hill at one end, with itshaunting stories of witchcraft days. 

The irregular road wandered out to the farming districts. Many smalltowns had been set off from the original Salem in the century before, and the boundaries were marked mostly by the farms. 

Betty inquired after everybody, but most of the answers were "Yes, 'm"and "No, 'm. " When they came in sight of the house Mrs. Manning andlittle Ruth ran out to welcome the guests, followed by Elizabeth, whowas almost as good as a woman. 

The house itself was a plain two-story with the hall door in the middleand a window on each side. The roof had a rather steep pitch in frontwith overhanging eaves. From this pitch it wandered off in a slow curveat the back and seemed stretched out to cover the kitchen and the sheds. 

A grassy plot in front was divided by a trodden path. On one side of thesmall stoop was a great patch of hollyhocks that were tolerated becausethey needed no special care. Mrs. Manning had no time to waste uponflowers. The aspect was neat enough, but rather dreary, as Doriscontrasted it with the bloom at home. 

But the greetings were cordial, only Mrs. Manning asked Betty "If shehad been waiting for someone to come and show her the way?" Ruth ran toDoris at once and caught her round the waist, nestling her head fondlyon the bosom of the guest. Elizabeth stood awkwardly distant, and onlystared when Betty presented her to Doris. 

They were ushered into the first room, which was the guest chamber. Thefloor was painted, and in summer the rugs were put away. A largebedstead with faded chintz hangings, a bureau, a table, and two chairscompleted the furniture. The ornaments were two brass candlesticks and asnuffers tray on the high mantel. 

Here they took off their hats and laid down their budgets, and then wentthrough to mother's room, where there were a bed and a cradle, a bureau, a big chest, a table piled up with work, a smaller candlestand, and acurious old desk. Next to this was the living-room, where the main workof life went on. Beyond this were a kitchen and some sheds. 

Baby Hester sat on the floor and looked amazed at the irruption, thenbegan to whimper. Her mother hushed her up sharply, and she crept out tothe living-room. 

"We may as well all go out, " said Mrs. Manning. "I must see aboutsupper, for that creature we have doesn't know when the kettle boils, "and she led the way. 

Elizabeth began to spread the tea table. A youngish woman was working inthe kitchen. The Mannings had taken one of the town's poor, who at thisperiod were farmed out. Sarah Lewis was not mentally bright, andrequired close watching, which she certainly received at the Mannings'. Doris stood by the window with Ruth, until the baby cried, when hermother told her to take Hester out in the kitchen and give her somesupper and put her to bed. And then Doris could do nothing but watchElizabeth while the elders discussed family affairs, the conversation agood deal interrupted by rather sharp orders to Sarah in the kitchen, and some not quite so sharp to Elizabeth. 

Supper was all on the table when the men came in. There were Mr. Manning, Foster and James, and two hired men. 

"You must wait, James, " said his mother--"you and Elizabeth. "

The guests were ranged at one end of the table, the hired men and Fosterat the other. Elizabeth took some knitting and sat down by the window. The two younger children remained in the kitchen. 

Doris was curiously interested, though she felt a little strange. Hereyes wandered to Elizabeth, and met the other eyes, as curious as hers. Elizabeth had straight light hair, cut square across the neck, andacross her forehead in what we should call a bang. "It was time to letit grow long, " her mother admitted, "but it was such a bother, fallingin her eyes. " Her frock, whatever color it had been, was now faded to ahopeless, depressing gray, and her brown gingham apron tied at the waistbetrayed the result of many washings. She was thin and pale, too, andtired-looking. Times had not been good, and some of the crops were notturning out well, so every nerve had to be strained to pay for the newlot, in order that the interest on the amount should not eat upeverything. 

Afterward the men went to look to the cattle, and Mrs. Manning, when shehad given orders a while in the kitchen, took her guests out on thefront porch. She sat and knit as she talked to them, as the moon wasshining and gave her light enough to see. 

When the old clock struck nine, Mr. Manning came through the hall andstood in the doorway. 

"Be you goin' to sit up all night, mother?" he inquired. 

"Dear, no. And I expect you're all tired. We're up so early in themorning here that we go to bed early. And I was thinking--Ruth needn'thave gone upstairs, and Doris could have slept with Elizabeth----"

"I'll go upstairs with Doris, and 'Lecty may have the room to herself, "exclaimed Betty. 

Grandmother Manning had a room downstairs, back of the parlor, and oneof the large rooms upstairs, that the family had the privilege of using, though it was stored nearly full with a motley collection of articlesand furniture. This was her right in the house left by her husband. Butshe spent most of her time between her daughter at Danvers and anotherin the heart of the town, where there were neighbors to look at, ifnothing else. 

Doris peered in the corners of the room by the dim candlelight. 

"It's very queer, " she said with a half-smile at Betty, glancingaround. For there were lines across on which hung clothes and bags ofdried herbs that gave the room an aromatic fragrance, and parcels in onecorner piled almost up to the wall. But the space to the bed was clear, and there were a stand for the candle and two chairs. 

"The children are in the next room, and the boys and men sleep at theback. The other rooms have sloping roofs. And then there's a queerlittle garret. Grandmother Manning is real old, and some time Mary willhave all the house to herself. Josiah bought out his sisters' share, andMrs. Manning's runs only as long as she lives. "

"I shouldn't want to sleep with Elizabeth. I love you, Betty. "

Betty laughed wholesomely. "You will get acquainted with her to-morrow, "she said. 

Doris laid awake some time, wondering if she really liked visiting, andrecalling the delightful Christmas visit at Uncle Winthrop's. Theindefinable something that she came to understand was not only leisureand refinement, but the certain harmonious satisfactions that make upthe keynote of life from whence melody diffuses itself, were wantinghere. 

They had their breakfast by themselves the next morning. Friday was abusy day, but all the household except the baby were astir at five, andoften earlier. There were churning and the working of butter and packingit down for customers. Of course, June butter had the royal mark, butthere were plenty of people glad to get any "grass" butter. 

Betty took Doris out for a walk and to show her what a farm was like. There was the herd of cows, and in a field by themselves the young onesfrom three months to a year. There were two pretty colts Mr. Manningwas raising. And there was a flock of sheep on a stony pasture lot, with some long-legged, awkward-looking lambs who had outgrown theirbabyhood. Then they espied James weeding out the garden beds. 

Betty sat down on a stone at the edge of the fence and took out someneedlework she carried around in her pocket. Doris stood patting downthe soft earth with her foot. 

"Do you like to do that?" she asked presently. 

"No, I don't, " in a short tone. 

"I think I should not either. "

"'Taint the things you like, it's what has to be done, " the boy flungout impatiently. "I'm not going to be a farmer. I just hate it. When I'mbig enough I'm coming to Boston. "

"When will you be big enough?"

"Well--when I'm twenty-one. You're of age then, you see, and your ownmaster. But I might run away before that. Don't tell anyone that, Doris. Gewhilliker! didn't I have a splendid time at grandmother's that winter!I wish I could live there always. And grandpop is just the nicest man Iknow! I just hate a farm. "

Doris felt very sorry for him. She thought she would not like to workthat way with her bare hands. Miss Recompense always wore gloves whenshe gardened. 

"I'd like to be you, with nothing to do. "

That was a great admission. The winter at Uncle Leverett's he had ratherdespised girls. Cousin Sam was the one to be envied then. And it seemedto her that she kept quite busy at home, but it was a pleasant kind ofbusiness. 

She did not see Elizabeth until dinner time. James took the men's dinnerout to the field. They could not spend the time to come in. And afterdinner Betty harnessed the old mare Jinny, and took Electa, Doris, andlittle Ruth out driving. The sun had gone under a cloud and the breezewas blowing over from the ocean. Electa chose to see the old town, evenif there were but few changes and trade had fallen off. Severalslender-masted merchantmen were lying idly at the quays, half afraid toventure with a cargo lest they might fall into the hands of privateers. The stores too had a depressed aspect. Men sat outside gossiping in alanguid sort of way, and here and there a woman was tending her baby onthe porch or doing a bit of sewing. 

"What a sleepy old place!" said Mrs. King. "It would drive me todistraction. "

CHAPTER XVII

ANOTHER GIRL

Saturday afternoon the work was finished up and the children washed. Thesupper was eaten early, and at sundown the Sabbath had begun. The parlorwas opened, but the children were allowed out on the porch. Ruth sprangup a time or two rather impatiently. 

"Sit still, " said Elizabeth, "or you will have to go to bed at once. "

"Couldn't I take her a little walk?" asked Doris. 

"A walk! Why it is part of Sunday!"

"But I walk on Sunday with Uncle Winthrop. "

"It's very wicked. We _do_ walk to church, but that isn't anything forpleasure. "

"But uncle thinks one ought to be happy and joyous on Sunday. It is theday the Lord rose from the dead. "

"It's the Sabbath. And you are to remember the Sabbath to keep it holy. "

"What is the difference between Sabbath and Sunday?"

"There aint any, " said James. "There's six days to work, and I wishthere was two Sundays--one in the middle of the week. The best time ofall is Sunday night. You don't have to keep so very still, and you don'thave to work neither. "

Elizabeth sighed. Then she said severely, "Do you know your catechism, James?"

"Well--I always have to study it Sunday morning, " was the rather sullenreply. 

"Maybe you had better go in and look it over. "

"You never do want a fellow to take any comfort. Yes, I know it. "

"Ruth, if you are getting sleepy go to bed. "

Ruth had leaned her head down on Doris' shoulder. 

"She's wide awake, " and Doris gave her a little squeeze that made hersmile. She would have laughed outright but for fear. 

Elizabeth leaned her head against the door jamb. 

"You look so tired, " said Doris pityingly. 

"I am tired through and through. I am always glad to have Saturday nightcome and no knitting or anything. Don't you knit when you are home?"

"I haven't knit--much. " Doris flushed up to the roots of her fair hair, remembering her unfortunate attempts at achieving a stocking. 

"What do you do?"

"Study, and read to Uncle Winthrop, and go to school and to writingschool, and walk and take little journeys and drives and do drawing. Next year I shall learn to paint flowers. "

"But you do some kind of work?"

"I keep my room in order and Uncle Win trusts me to dust his books. AndI sew a little and make lace. But, you see, there is Miss Recompense andDinah and Cato. "

"Oh, what a lot of help! What does Miss Recompense do?"

"She is the housekeeper. "

"Is Uncle Winthrop very rich?"

"I--I don't know. "

"But there are no children and boys to wear out their clothes andstockings. There's so much knitting to be done. I go to school inwinter, but there is too much work in summer. Doris Adams, you are alucky girl if your fortune doesn't spoil you. "

"Fortune!" exclaimed Doris in surprise. 

"Yes. I heard father talk about it. And all that from England! Thensomeone died in Boston and left you ever so much. I suppose you will bea grand lady!"

"I'd like to be a lovely old lady like Madam Royall. "

"And who is she?"

Doris was in the full tide of narration when Mrs. Manning came to thehall door. She caught some description of a party. 

"Elizabeth, put Ruth to bed at once and go yourself. Doris, talking ofparties isn't a very good preparation for the Sabbath. Elizabeth, whenyou say your prayers think of your sins and shortcomings for the week, and repent of them earnestly. "

Ruth had fallen asleep and gave a little whine. Her mother slapped her. 

"Hush, not a word. You deserve the same and more, Elizabeth! James, goin and study your catechism over three times, then go to bed. "

Doris sat alone on the doorstep, confused and amazed. She was quite surenow she did not like Mrs. Manning, and she felt very sorry forElizabeth. Then Betty came out and told her some odd Salem stories. 

They all went to church Sabbath morning, in the old Puritan parlance. Doris found it hard to comprehend the sermon. Many of the people fromthe farms brought their luncheons, and wandered about the graveyard orsat under the shady trees. At two the children were catechised, at threeservice began again. 

Mrs. King took Doris and Betty to dine with a friend of her youth, andthen went back to the service out of respect to her sister andbrother-in-law. Little Ruth fell asleep and was punished for it when shereached home. The children were all fractious and their mother scolded. When the sun went down there was a general sense of relief. The youngerones began to wander around. The two mothers sauntered off together, talking of matters they preferred not to have fall on the ears of smalllisteners. 

Betty attracted the boys. Foster could talk to her, though he was muchafraid of girls in general. 

Doris and Elizabeth sat on the steps. Ruth was running small races withherself. 

"Would you rather go and walk?" inquired Elizabeth timidly. 

"Oh, no. Not if you like to sit still, " cheerfully. 

"I just do. I'm always tired. You are so pretty, I was afraid of you atfirst. And you have such beautiful clothes. That blue ribbon on your hatis like a bit of the sky. And God made the sky. "

The voice died away in admiration. 

"That isn't my best hat, " returned Doris simply. "Cousin Betty thoughtthe damp of the ocean and running out in the dust would ruin it. It hassome beautiful pink roses and ever so much gauzy stuff and a great bowof pink satin. Then I have a pink muslin frock with tiny green and brownsprigs all over it, and a great sash of the muslin that comes down tothe hem. The Chapman girls have satin ribbon sashes, but Miss Recompensesaid she liked the muslin better. "

"Do you have to wear just what she says?"

"Oh, no. Madam Royall chooses some things, and Betty. And Cousin Kingbrought me an elegant sash, white, with flowers all over it. I have everso many pretty things. "

"Oh, how proud you must feel!" said the Puritan maid half enviously. 

"I don't know"--hesitatingly. "I think I feel just nice, and that is allthere is about it. Uncle Win likes what they get for me--men can't buyclothes, you know, and if he is pleased and thinks I look well, that isthe end of it. "

"Oh, how good it must feel to be happy just like that. But are you quitesure, " lowering her voice to a touch of awe, "that you will not bepunished in the next world?"

"What for? Doesn't God mean us to be happy?"

"Well--not in this world, perhaps, " answered the young theologian. "Butyou don't have anything in heaven except a white robe, and if youhaven't had any pretty things in this world----"

"I wish I could give you some of mine. " Doris slipped her soft warm handover the other, beginning to grow bony and strained already. 

"They wouldn't do me any good, " was the almost apathetical reply. "Ionly go to church, and mother wouldn't let me wear them. "

"Do you like to go to church?"

"I hate the long sermons and the prayers. Oh, that is dreadful wicked, isn't it? But I like to see the people and hear the talk, and they dohave some new clothes; and the sitting still. When you've run and runall the week and are tired all over, it's just good to sit still. Andit's different. I get so tired of the same things all the time and thehurry. Do you know what I am going to do when I am a woman?"

"No, " replied Doris with a look of interested inquiry. 

"I'm going to have one room like grandmother Manning, and live bymyself. I shan't have any husband or children. I don't want to be sewingand knitting and patching continually, and babies are an awful sight oftrouble, and husbands are just thinking of work, work all the time. ThenI shall go visiting when I like, and though I shall read the Bible Iwon't mind about remembering the sermons. I'll just have a good time bymyself. "

Doris felt strangely puzzled. She always wanted a good time withsomeone. The great pleasure to her was having another share a joy. Andto live alone was almost like being imprisoned in some dreary cell. Neither could she think of Helen or Eudora living alone--indeed, any ofthe girls she knew. 

"Now you can go on about the wedding party, " said Elizabeth after apause. "And you really danced! And you were not afraid the ground wouldopen and swallow you?"

"Why, no, " returned Doris. "There are earthquakes that swallow up wholetowns, but, you see, the good and the bad go together. And I never heardof anyone being swallowed up----"

"Why, yes--in the Bible--Korah, Dathan, and Abiram. "

"But they were not dancing. I think, "--hesitatingly, --"they were findingfault with Moses and Aaron, and wanting to be leaders in some manner. "

"Well--I am glad it wasn't dancing. And now go on quick before they comeback. "

Elizabeth had never read a fairy story or any vivid description. She hadno time and there were no books of that kind about the house. She fairlyreveled in Doris' brilliant narrative. She had seen one middle-agedcouple stand up to be married after the Sunday afternoon service, andshe had heard of two or three younger people being married with a kindof wedding supper. But that Doris should have witnessed all thisherself! That she should have worn a wedding gown and scattered flowersbefore the bride!

Ruth was tired of running. "I'm sleepy, " she said. "Unfasten my dress, Iwant to go to bed. "

Betty and the boys were coming up the path, with the shadowy forms ofthe grown people behind them. Mr. Manning had been taking a nap on therude kitchen settee, his Sunday evening indulgence. Now he came throughthe hall. 

"Boys, children, it's time to go to bed. You are all sleepy enough inthe mornin', but you would sit up half the night if someone did notdrive you off. "

"Oh, I wish you lived here, Aunt Betty, " said Foster for a good-night. 

Betty and Doris were almost ready for bed when there was a little soundat the door, pushed open by Elizabeth, who stood there in her plain, scant nightgown with a distraught expression, as if she had seen aghost. 

"Oh, Aunt Betty or Doris, _can_ you remember the text and what thesermon was about? We always say it to mother after tea Sabbath evening, and she'll be sure to ask me to-morrow morning. And I can't think! Inever scarcely do forget. Oh, what shall I do!"

Her distress was so genuine that Betty folded her in her arms. Elizabethbegan to cry at the tender touch. 

"There, little Bessy, don't cry. Let me see--I remember I was preachinganother sermon to myself. It was--'Do this and ye shall live. ' Andinstead of all the hard things he put in, I thought of the kindly thingsfather was always doing, and Uncle Win, and mother, and the pleasantthings instead of the severe laws. And when he reached his lastly hesaid no one could keep all the laws, and because they could not theSaviour came and died, but he seemed to preach as if the old laws werestill in force, and that the Saviour's death really had not changedanything. That was in the morning. And the afternoon was the miracle ofthe loaves and fishes. "

"Yes--I could recall that. But I was sure mother would ask me the one Ihad forgotten. It always happens that way. Oh, I am so glad. Dear AuntBetty! And if I was sometimes called Bessy, as you called me just now, or Betty, or anything besides the everlasting 'Lisbeth. Oh, Doris, howhappy you must be----"

"There, dear, " said Betty soothingly, "don't cry so. I will write outwhat I can recall on a slip of paper and you can look it over in themorning. I just wish you could come and make me a visit, and go over toUncle Win's. Yes, Doris _is_ a happy little girl. "

"But I have everything in the world, " said Doris with a long breath. "Iam afraid I could not be so happy here. Oh, can't we take Elizabeth homewith us? Betty, coax her mother. "

"It wouldn't do a bit of good. You can't coax mother. And there isalways so much work in the summer. I am afraid she wouldn't likeit--even if you asked her. "

"But James came, and little Ruth----"

"They were too young to work. Oh, it would be like going to heaven!"

"It may be sometime, little Bessy. You can dream over it. "

"Good-night. Would you kiss me, Doris?"

The happy girl kissed her a dozen times instead of once. But her deepeyes were full of tears as she turned to Betty when the small figure hadslipped away. 

"Yes, it is a hard life, " said Betty. "It seems as if children's livesought to be happier. I don't know what makes Mary so hard. I'm sure shedoes not get it from father or mother. She appears to think all thevirtue of the world lies in work. I wonder what such people will do inheaven!"

"Oh, Betty, do try to have her come to Boston. I know Uncle Win willfeel sorry for her. "

Those years in the early part of the century were not happy ones forchildhood in general. Too much happiness was considered demoralizing inthis world and a poor preparation for the next. Work was the greatpanacea for all sorts of evils. It was seldom work for one's neighbors, though people were ready to go in sickness and trouble. It was addingfield to field and interest to interest, to strive and save and wearone's self out and die. 

Elizabeth was up betimes the next morning, and there lay the paper withchapter and verse and some "remarks. " Her heart swelled with gratitudeas she ran downstairs. Sarah had made the "shed" fire and the big washkettle had been put over it. She was rubbing out the first clothes, thenicest pieces. 

"Now fly round, 'Lisbeth, " said her mother. "You've dawdled enough thesefew days back, and there'll be an account to settle presently. I supposeyour head was so full of that bunch of vanity you never remembered aword of the sermon yesterday. What was the text in the morning?"

Elizabeth's pale face turned scarlet and her lip quivered; her slightframe seemed to shrink a moment, then in a gasping sort of way she gavechapter and verse and repeated the words. 

"I don't think that was it, " said her mother sharply. "Ruth was in afidget just as the text was given out. Wasn't that last Sunday's text?"

"Some of the others may remember, " the child said in her usualapathetical voice. 

"Well, you needn't act as if you were going to have a hysteric! Hand methat dish of beans. Your father likes them warmed over. Quick, there hecomes now. You stir them. "

A trivet stood on the glowing coals, and the pan soon warmed through. Father and the men took their places. Foster came in sleepily. 

"Where's James?" inquired his mother. 

"I don't want him in the field to-day. He can weed in the garden. Yousend him with the dinners. "

"Where was yesterday morning's text, Foster?" Mrs. Manning askedsharply. 

The boy looked up blankly. As there was no Sunday evening examination ithad slipped out of his mind. 

"It was something about--keeping the law--doing----"

James entered at that moment and had heard the question and hesitatingreply. 

"I can't remember chapter and verse, but it was short, and I just rammedthe words down in my memory box. 'Do this and ye shall live. '"

"James, no such irreverence, " exclaimed his father. 

Elizabeth in the kitchen drew a long breath of relief. She wonderedwhether his mother would have taken Aunt Betty's word. 

Monday morning was always a hard time. Sarah required looking after, forher memory lapses were frequent. Mr. Manning said a good birch switchwas the best remedy he knew. But though a hundred years before peoplehad thought nothing of whipping their servants, public opinion wasagainst it now. Mrs. Manning did sometimes box her ears when she wasover-much tired. But she was a very faithful worker. 

Elizabeth gave Ruth and baby Hester their breakfast. Then Betty camedown, and insisted upon getting the next breakfast while Mrs. Manninghung up her first clothes. She had been scolding to Betty about peoplehaving no thought or care as to how they put back the work with theirlate breakfast. But when Betty cooked and served it, and insisted uponwashing up the dishes; and Doris amused the baby, who was not well, andhelped Ruth shell the pease for dinner; when the washing and churningwere out of the way long before noon, and Elizabeth was folding down theclothes for ironing while Sarah and her mother prepared the dinner andsent it out to the men--the child couldn't see that things were at allbehindhand. 

Sarah and Elizabeth ironed in the afternoon. Mrs. Manning brought outher sewing and Betty helped on some frocks for the children. Two oldneighbors came in to supper, bringing two little girls who werewonderfully attracted by Doris and delighted to be amused in quite a newfashion. But Elizabeth was too busy to be spared. 

After supper was cleared away and the visitors had gone Elizabethbrought her knitting and sat on the stoop step in the moonlight. 

"Oh, don't knit!" cried Doris. "You look so tired. "

"I'd like to go to bed this minute, " said the child. "But last week Ifell behind. You see, there are so many to wear stockings, and the boysdo rattle them out so fast. We try to get most of the new knitting donein the summer, for autumn brings so much work. And if you will talk tome--I like so to hear about Boston and Madam Royall's beautiful houseand your Uncle Win. It must be like reading some interesting book. Oh, I wish I could come and stay a whole week with you!"

"A week!" Doris laughed. "Why, you couldn't see it all in a month, or ayear. Every day I am finding something new about Boston, and MissRecompense remembers so many queer stories. I'm going to tell her allabout you. I know she'll be real nice about your coming. Everything isas Uncle Win says, but he always asks her. "

Doris could make her little descriptions very vivid and attractive. Atfirst Elizabeth replied by exclamations, then there was quite a silence. Doris looked at her. She was leaning against the post of the porch andher needles no longer clicked, though she held the stocking in itsplace. The poor child had fallen fast asleep. The moonlight made herlook so ghostly pale that at first Doris was startled. 

The three ladies came out, but Elizabeth never stirred. When her motherspied her she shook her sharply by the shoulder. 

"Poor child!" exclaimed Mrs. King. "Elizabeth, put up your work and goto bed. "

"If you are too sleepy to knit, put up your work and go out and knead onthe bread a spell. Sarah always gets it lumpy if you don't watch her, "said Mrs. Manning. 

Elizabeth gathered up her ball and went without a word. 

"I'll knit for you, " said Betty, intercepting her, and taking the work. 

"Mary, you will kill that child presently, and when you have buried herI hope you will be satisfied to give Ruth a chance for her life, "exclaimed Mrs. King indignantly. 

"I can't afford to bring my children up in idleness, and if I could, Ihope I have too great a sense of responsibility and my duty toward them. I was trained to work, and I've been thankful many a time that _I_didn't have to waste grown-up years in learning. "

"We didn't work like that. Then father had given some years to hiscountry and we _were_ poor. You have no need, and it is cruel to makesuch a slave of a child. She does a woman's work. "

"I am quite capable of governing my own family, Electa, and I think Iknow what is best and right for them. We can't afford to bring up fineladies and teach them French and other trumpery. If Elizabeth is fittedfor a plain farmer's wife, that is all I ask. She won't be likely tomarry a President or a foreign lord, and if we have a few hundreddollars to start her in life, maybe she won't object. "

"You had better give her a little comfort now instead of adding farm tofarm, and saving up so much for the woman who will come in here when youare dead and gone. Think of the men who have second and third wives andwhose children are often turned adrift to look out for themselves. Hundreds of poor women are living hard and joyless lives just to save upmoney. And it is a shame to grind their children to the lowest ebb. "

Mrs. Manning was very angry. She had no argument at hand, so she turnedin an arrogant manner and said austerely:

"I had better go and look after my daughter, to see that she doesn'twork herself quite to death. But I don't know what we should do withoutbread. "

"Now you have done it!" cried Betty. "I only hope she won't vent heranger on the poor child. "

"It is a curious thing, " said Mrs. King reflectively, "that women--well, men too--make such a point of church-going on Sunday, and hardly allowthe poor children to draw a comfortable breath, and on Monday act likefiends. Women especially seem to think they have a right to indulge indreadful tempers on washing day, and drive all before them. Think of thework that has been done in this house to-day, and the picture ofElizabeth, worn out, falling asleep over her knitting. I should havesent her to bed with the chickens. I'd like to take her home with me, but it would spoil her for the farm. "

Betty knit away on the stocking. "I can't see what makes Mary so hardand grasping, " she said. "It troubles mother a good deal. "

When they went in the house was quiet and the kitchen dark. Mrs. Manningsat sewing. Their candles were on the table. Betty and Mrs. King said acordial good-night. 

The sisters-in-law were to come the next day, and grandmother Manning, with an addition of four children. The Salem sister, Mrs. Gates, wasstout and pleasant; the farmer sister thin and with a troublesome cough, and she had a young baby besides her little girl of six. She was to makea visit in Salem, and doctor somewhat, to see if she could not get overher cough before cold weather. 

The children were turned out of doors on the grassy roadside, where theycouldn't hurt anything. Mrs. Gates and Betty helped in the kitchen, andafter the dinner was cleared away Elizabeth was allowed to put on hersecond-best gingham and go out with the children. They ran and playedand screamed and laughed. 

"I'd a hundred times rather sit still and hear you talk, " she said toDoris. "And I'm awful sorry to have you go to-morrow. Even when I ambusy it is so nice just to look at you, with your beautiful hair andyour dark eyes, and your skin that is like velvet and doesn't seem totan or freckle. Foster hates freckles so. "

Doris flushed at the compliment. 

"I wonder how it would seem to be as pretty as you are? And you're nota bit set up about your fine clothes and all. I s'pose when you're bornthat way you're so used to it, and there aint anything to wish for. I'mso glad you could come. And I do hope you will come again. "

They parted very good friends. Mrs. King had been quite generous to thesmall people, and Mrs. Manning really loved her sister, although sheconsidered her very lax and extravagant. No one could tell what wasbefore him, and thrift and prudence were the great virtues of thosedays. True, they often degenerated into penuriousness and labor that wasearly and late--so severe, indeed, it cost many a life; and the peoplewho came after reaped the benefit. 

CHAPTER XVIII

WINTER AND SORROW

"Oh, Uncle Win, " exclaimed Doris, "I can't be sorry that I went toSalem, and I've had a queer, delightful time seeing so many strangethings and hearing stories about them! But I am very, very glad to getback to Boston, and gladdest of all to be your little girl. There isn'tanybody in the whole wide world I'd change you for!"

Her arms were about him. He was so tall that she could not quite reachup to his neck when he stood straight, but he had a way of bending over, and she was growing, and the clasp gave him a thrill of exquisitepleasure. 

"I've missed my little girl a great deal, " he said. "I am afraid I shallnever want you to go away again. "

"The next time you must go with me. Though Betty was delightful and Mrs. King is just splendid. "

They had famous talks about Salem afterward, and the little townsaround. Miss Recompense said now she shouldn't know how to live withouta child in the house. Mrs. King went home to her husband and littleones, and Doris imagined the joy in greeting such a fond mother. UncleWin half promised he would visit New York sometime. Even Aunt Priscillawas pleased when Doris came up to Sudbury Street, and wanted her fullshare of every visit. And they were all amazed when she went over toUncle Win's to spend a day and was very cordial with Miss Recompense. They had a nice chat about the old times and the Salem witches and thedead and gone Governors--even Governor and Lady Gage, who had been verygay in her day; and both women had seen her riding about in her elegantcarriage, often with a handsome young girl at her side. 

She had some business, too, with Uncle Win. They were in the study along while together. 

"Living with the Leveretts has certainly changed Aunt Priscilla verymuch, " he said later in the evening to Miss Recompense. "I begin tothink it is not good for people to live so much alone when they aregoing down the shady side of life. Or perhaps it would not be so shadyif they would allow a little sun to shine in it. "

Solomon was full of purring content and growing lazier every day. Latterly he had courted Uncle Win's society. There was a wide ledge inone of the southern windows, and Doris made a cushion to fit one end. Heloved to lie here and bask in the sunshine. When there was a fire on thehearth he had another cushion in the corner. Sometimes he saunteredaround and interviewed the books quite as if he was aware of theircontents. He considered that he had a supreme right to Doris' lap, andhe sometimes had half a mind to spring up on Uncle Win's knee, but theinvitation did not seem sufficiently pressing. 

Cary was at home regularly now, except that he spent one night everyweek with a friend at Charlestown, and went frequently to the Cragies'to meet some of his old chums. He had not appeared to care much forDoris at first, and she was rather shy. Latterly they had become quitefriends. 

But it seemed to Doris that he was so much gayer and brighter at MadamRoyall's, where he certainly was a great favorite. Miss Alice was verybrilliant and charming. They were always having hosts of company. Mr. And Mrs. Winslow were at the head of one circle in society. And thisautumn Miss Jane Morse was married and went to live in Sheaffe Street inhandsome style. She had done very well indeed. Betty was one of thebridesmaids and wore a white India silk in which she looked quite abeauty. 

Miss Helen Chapman was transferred to Mrs. Rowson's school to befinished. Doris and Eudora still attended Miss Parker's. But MadamRoyall had treated the girls to the new instrument coming into vogue, the pianoforte. It's tone was so much richer and deeper than the oldspinet. She liked it very much herself. Doris was quite wild over it. Madam Royal begged that she might be allowed to take lessons on it withthe girls. Uncle Winthrop said in a year or two she might have one ifshe liked it and could learn to play. 

She and Betty used to talk about Elizabeth Manning. There was a new babynow, another little boy. Mrs. Leverett made a visit and brought homeHester, to ease up things for the winter. Elizabeth couldn't go toschool any more, there was so much to do. She wrote Doris quite a longletter and sent it by grandmother. Postage was high then, and people didnot write much for pure pleasure. 

And just before the new year, when Betty was planning to go to New Yorkfor her visit to Mrs. King, a great sorrow came to all of them. UncleLeverett had not seemed well all the fall, though he was for the mostpart his usual happy self, but business anxieties pressed deeply uponhim and Warren. He used to drop in now and then and take tea with CousinWinthrop, and as they sat round the cheerful fire Doris would bring herstool to his side and slip her hand in his as she had that first winter. She was growing tall quite rapidly now, and pretty by the minute, UncleLeverett said. 

There was no end of disquieting rumors. American shipping was greatlyinterfered with and American seamen impressed aboard British ships bythe hundreds, often to desert at the first opportunity. Merchantmen weredeprived of the best of their crews for the British navy, as thatcountry was carrying on several wars; and now Wellington had gone to theassistance of the Spanish, and all Europe was trying to break the powerof Napoleon, who had set out since the birth of his son, now crownedKing of Rome, to subdue all the nations. 

The _Leopard-Chesapeake_ affair had nearly plunged us into war, but itwas promptly disavowed by the British Government and some indemnitypaid. There was a powerful sentiment opposed to war in New York and NewEngland, but the people were becoming much inflamed under repeatedoutrages. Young men were training in companies and studying up navalmatters. The country had so few ships then that to rush into a strugglewas considered madness. 

Mr. Winthrop Adams was among those bitterly opposed to war. Cary wasstrongly imbued with a young man's patriotic enthusiasm. There was agood deal of talk at Madam Royall's, and a young lieutenant had beenquite a frequent visitor and was an admirer also of the fair Miss Alice. Then Alfred Barron, his friend at Charlestown, had entered the navalservice. Studying law seemed dry and tiresome to the young fellow whensuch stirring events were happening on every side. 

Uncle Leverett took a hard cold early in the new year. He was indoorsseveral days, then some business difficulties seemed to demand hisattention and he went out again. A fever set in, and though at first itdid not appear serious, after a week the doctor began to look verygrave. Betty stopped her preparations and wrote a rather apprehensiveletter to Mrs. King. 

One day Uncle Win was sent for, and remained all the afternoon andevening. The next morning he went down to the store. 

"I'm afraid father's worse, " said Warren. "His fever was very highthrough the night, and he was flighty, and now he seems to be in a sortof stupor, with a very feeble pulse. Oh, Uncle Win, I haven't oncethought of his dying, and now I am awfully afraid. Business is in such adreadful way. That has worried him. "

Mr. Adams went up to Sudbury Street at once. The doctor was there. 

"There has been a great change since yesterday, " he said gravely. "Wemust prepare for the worst. It has taken me by surprise, for he bid fairto pull through. "

Alas, the fears were only too true! By night they had all given up hopeand watched tearfully for the next twenty-four hours, when the kindly, upright life that had blessed so many went to its own reward. 

To Doris is seemed incredible. That poor Miss Henrietta Maria shouldslip out of life was only a release, and that Miss Arabella in theripeness of age should follow had awakened in her heart no real sorrow, but a gentle sense of their having gained something in another world. But Uncle Leverett had so much here, so many to love him and to needhim. 

Death, the mystery to all of us, is doubly so to the young. When Dorislooked on Uncle Leverett's placid face she was very sure he could not bereally gone, but mysteriously asleep. 

Yes, little Doris--the active, loving, thinking man had "fallen onsleep, " and the soul had gone to its reward. 

Foster Leverett had been very much respected, and there were manyfriends to follow him to his grave in the old Granary burying ground, where the Fosters and Leveretts rested from their labors. There on thewalk stood the noble row of elms that Captain Adino Paddock had importedfrom England a dozen years before the Revolutionary War broke out, intheir very pride of strength and grandeur now, even if they wereleafless. 

It seemed very hard and cruel to leave him here in the bleakness ofmidwinter, Doris thought. And he was not really dead to her until thebearers turned away with empty hands, and the friends with sorrowfulgreeting passed out of the inclosure and left him alone to the comingevening and the requiem of the wind soughing through the trees. 

Doris sat by Miss Recompense that evening with Solomon on her lap. Shecould not study, she did not want to read or sew or make lace. UncleWinthrop had gone up to Sudbury Street. All the family were to be there. The Kings had come from New York and the Mannings from Salem. 

"Oh, " said Doris, after a long silence, "how can Aunt Elizabeth live, and Betty and Warren, when they cannot see uncle Leverett any more! Andthere are so many things to talk about, only they can never ask him anyquestions, and he was so--so comforting. He was the first one that cameto me on the vessel, you know, and he said to Captain Grier, 'Have you alittle girl who has come from Old Boston to New Boston?' Then he puthis arm around me, and I liked him right away. And the great fire in thehall was so lovely. I liked everybody but Aunt Priscilla, and now I feelsorry for her and like her a good deal. Sometimes she gets queer andwhat she calls 'pudgicky. ' But she is real good to Betty. "

"She's a sensible, clear-headed woman, and she has good solidprinciples. I do suppose we all get a little queer. I can see it inmyself. "

"Oh, dear Miss Recompense, you are not queer, " protested Doris, seizingher hand. "When I first came I was a little afraid--you were so verynice. And then I remembered that Miss Arabella had all these nice ways, and could not bear a cloth askew nor towels wrinkled instead of beinglaid straight, nor anything spilled at the table, nor an untidy room, and she was very sweet and nice. And then I tried to be as neat as Icould. "

"I knew you had been well brought up. " Miss Recompense was pleasedalways to be compared to her "dear Miss Arabella. " There was somethinggrateful to her woman's heart, that had long ago held a longing for achild of her own, in the ardent tone Doris always uttered thisendearment. 

"Miss Recompense, don't you think there is something in people lovingyou? You want to love them in return. You want to do the things theylike. And when they smile and are glad, your whole heart is light with akind of inward sunshine. And I think if Mrs. Manning would smile onElizabeth once in a while, and tell her what she did was nice, and thatshe was smart, --for she is very, very smart, --I know it would comforther. "

"You see, people haven't thought it was best to praise children. Theyrarely did in my day. "

"But Uncle Leverett praised Warren and Betty, and always said what AuntElizabeth cooked and did was delightful. "

"Foster Leverett was one man out of a thousand. They will all miss himdreadfully. "

Aunt Priscilla would have been amazed to know that Mr. Leverett had beenin the estimation of Miss Recompense an ideal husband. Years ago she hadcompared other men with him and found them wanting. 

Uncle Win was much surprised to find them sitting there talking when hecame home, for it was ten o'clock. Cary returned shortly after, and thetwo men retired to the study. But there was a curious half-dread of someintangible influence that kept Doris awake a long while. The wind moanedoutside and now and then raised to a somber gust sweeping across thewide Common. Oh, how lonely it must be in the old burying ground!

Mr. Leverett's will had been read that evening. The business was left toWarren, as Hollis had most of his share years before. To the marrieddaughters a small remembrance, to Betty and her mother the house inSudbury Street, to be kept or sold as they should elect; if sold, theywere to share equally. 

Mrs. King was very well satisfied. In the present state of affairsWarren's part was very uncertain, and his married sisters were to bepaid out of that. The building was old, and though the lot was in a goodbusiness location, the value at that time was not great. 

"It seems to me the estate ought to be worth more, " said Mrs. Manning. "I did suppose father was quite well off, and had considerable readymoney. "

"So he did two years ago, " answered Warren. "But it has been spent inthe effort to keep afloat. If the times should ever get better----"

"You'll pull through, " said Hollis encouragingly. 

He had not suffered so much from the hard times, and was prospering. 

The will had been remade six months before, after a good deal ofconsideration. 

When Mrs. King went home, a few days after, she said privately toWarren: "Do not trouble about my legacy, and if you come to hard placesI am sure Matt will help you out if he possibly can. "

Warren thanked her in a broken voice. 

Mr. King said nearly the same thing as he grasped the young fellow'shand. 

They were a very lonely household. Of course, Betty could not think ofgoing away. And now that they knew what a struggle it had been for sometime to keep matters going comfortably, they cast about to see whatretrenchment could be made. Even if they wanted to, this would be notime to sell. The house seemed much too large for them, yet it was notplanned so that any could be rented out. 

"If you're set upon that, " said Aunt Priscilla, "I'll take the sparerooms, whether I need them or not. And we will just go on together. Strange though that Foster, who was so much needed, should be taken, andI, without a chick or a child, and so much older, be left behind. "

There was a new trustee to be looked up for Doris. A much younger manwas needed. If Cary were five or six years older! Foster Leverett'sdeath was a great shock to Winthrop Adams. Sometimes it seemed as if ashadowy form hovered over his shoulder, warning him that middle life waspassing. He had a keen disappointment, too, in his son. He had hoped tofind in him an intellectual companion as the years went on, but he couldplainly see that his heart was not in his profession. The young fellow'sardor had been aroused on other lines that brought him in directopposition to the elder's views. He had gone so far as to ask hisfather's permission to enlist in the navy, which had been refused, notonly with prompt decision, but with a feeling of amazement that a son ofhis should have proposed such a step. 

Cary had the larger love of country and the enthusiasm of youth. Hisfather was deeply interested in the welfare and standing of the city, and he desired it to keep at the head. He had hoped to see his son oneof the rising men of the coming generation. War horrified him: it calledforth the cruel and brutal side of most men, and was to be undertakenonly for extremely urgent reasons as the last hope and salvation ofone's country. We had gained a right to stand among the nations of theworld; it was time now that we should take upon ourselves somethinghigher--the cultivation of literature and the fine arts. To plunge thecountry into war again would be setting it back decades. 

He had taken a great deal of pleasure in the meetings, of the AnthologyClub and the effort they had made to keep afloat a _Magazine of PoliteLiterature_. The little supper, which was very plain; the literary chat;the discussions of English poets and essayists, several of which werereprinted at this era; and the encouragement of native writers, of whomthere were but few except in the line of sermons and orations. By 1793there had been two American novels published, and though we should smileover them now we can find their compeers in several of the old Englishnovels that crop out now and then, exhumed from what was meant to be akindly oblivion. 

The magazine had been given up, and the life somehow had gone out of theclub. There was a plan to form a reading room and library to take itsplace. Men like Mr. Adams were anxious to advance the intellectualreputation of the town, though few people found sufficient leisure todevote to the idea of a national literature. Others said: "What need, when we have the world of brilliant English thinkers that we can neverexcel, the poets, and novelists! Let us study those and be content. "

The incidents of the winter had been quite depressing to Mr. Adams. Carywas around to the Royalls' nearly every evening, sometimes to otherplaces, and at discussions that would have alarmed his father still moreif he had known it. The young fellow's conscience gave him many twinges. "Children, obey your parents" had been instilled into every generationand until a boy was of age he had no lawful right to think for himself. 

So it happened that Doris became more of a companion to Uncle Win. Theyrambled about as the spring opened and noted the improvements. Old FrogLane was being changed into Boylston Street. Every year the historicCommon took on some new charm. There was the Old Elm, that dated back totradition, for no one could remember its youth. She was interested inthe conflicts that had ushered in the freedom of the American Colonies. Here the British waited behind their earthworks for Washington to attackthem, just as every winter boys congregated behind their snowy walls andfought mimic battles. Indeed, during General Gage's administration thesoldiers had driven the boys off their coasting place on the Common, andin a body they had gone to the Governor and demanded their rights, whichwere restored to them. Many a famous celebration had occurred here, andhere the militia met on training days and had their banquets in tents. At the first training all the colored population was allowed to throngthe Common; but at the second, when the Ancient and Honorable Artillerychose its new officers, they were strictly prohibited. 

Many of the ropewalks up at the northern end were silent now. Indeed, everybody seemed waiting with bated breath for something to happen, butall nature went on its usual way and made the town a little world ofbeauty with wild flowers and shrubs and the gardens coming into bloom, and the myriads of fruit trees with their crowns of snowy white and pinkin all gradations. 

"I think the world never was so beautiful, " said Doris to UncleWinthrop. 

It was so delightful to have such an appreciative companion, even if shewas only a little girl. 

Cary's birthday was the last of May, and it was decided to have thefamily party at the same time. Cary's young friends would be invited inthe evening, but for the elders there would be the regular supper. 

"You will have your freedom suit, and afterward you can do just as youlike, " said Doris laughingly. She and Cary had been quite friendly oflate, young-mannish reserve having given place to a brotherly regard. 

"Do you suppose I _can_ do just as I like?" He studied the eager face. 

"Of course you wouldn't want to do anything Uncle Win would not like. "

Cary flushed. "I wonder if fathers always know what is best? And whenyou are a man----" he began. 

"Don't you want to study law?"

"Under some circumstances I should like it. "

"Would you like keeping a store or having a factory, or buildingbeautiful houses--architecture, I believe, the fine part is called. Orpainting portraits like Copley and Stuart and the young Mr. Allston upin Court Street. "

"No, I can't aspire to that kind of genius, and I am sure I shouldn'tlike shop-keeping. I am just an ordinary young fellow and I am afraid Ishall always be a disappointment to the kindest of fathers. I wish therewere three or four other children. "

"How strange it would seem, " returned Doris musingly. 

"I am glad he has you, little Doris. "

"Are you really glad?" Her face was alight with joy. "Sometimes I havealmost wondered----"

"Don't wonder any more. You are like a dear little sister. During thelast six months it has been a great pleasure to me to see father so fondof you. I hope you will never go away. "

"I don't mean to. I love Uncle Win dearly. It used to trouble mesometimes when Uncle Leverett was alive, lest I couldn't love quiteeven, you know, " and a tiny line came in her smooth brow. 

"What an idea!" with a soft smile that suggested his father. 

"It's curious how you can love so many people, " she said reflectively. 

At first the Leveretts thought they could not come to the party, butUncle Winthrop insisted strongly. Some of the other relatives had lostmembers from their households. All the gayety would be reserved for theevening. But Cary said they would miss Betty very much. 

They had a pleasant afternoon, and Betty was finally prevailed upon tostay a little while in the evening. Cary was congratulated by the elderrelatives, who said many pleasant things and gave him good wishes as tohis future success. One of the cousins proposed his health, and Caryreplied in a very entertaining manner. There was a birthday cake that hehad to cut and pass around. 

"I think Cary has been real delightful, " said Betty. "I've never feltintimately acquainted with him, because he has always seemed ratherdistant, and went with the quality and all that, and we are rather plainpeople. Oh, how proud of him Uncle Win must be!"

He certainly was proud of his gracious attentions to the elders and hispleasant way of taking the rather tiresome compliments of a few of theold ladies who had known his Grandfather Cary as well as his GrandfatherAdams. 

Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Priscilla sat up in the room of Miss Recompensewith a few of the guests who wanted to see the young people gather. There were four colored musicians, and they began to tune theirinstruments out on the rustic settee at the side of the front garden, where the beautiful drooping honey locusts hid them from sight and madeeven the tuning seem enchanting. Girls in white gowns trooped up thepath, young men in the height of fashion carried fans and nosegays forthem; there was laughing and chattering and floating back and forth tothe dressing rooms. 

Madam Royall came with Miss Alice and Helen, who was allowed to go outoccasionally under her wing. Eudora had been permitted just to look on awhile and to return with grandmamma. 

The large parlor was cleared of the small and dainty tables and articleslikely to be in the way of the dancers. The first was to be a new marchto a patriotic air, and the guests stood on the stairs to watch themcome out of the lower door of the long room, march through the hall, andenter the parlor at the other door. Oh, what a pretty crowd they were!The old Continental styles had not all gone out, but were toned down alittle. There were pretty embroidered satin petticoats and sheer gownsfalling away at the sides, with a train one had to tuck up under thebelt when one really danced. Hair of all shades done high on the headwith a comb of silver or brilliants, or tortoise shell so clear that youcould see the limpid variations. Pompadour rolls, short curls, daintypuffs, many of the dark heads powdered, laces and frills and ribbons, and dainty feet in satin slippers and silken hose. 

After that they formed quadrilles in the parlor. There was space forthree and one in the hall. Eudora and Doris patted their feet on thestairs in unison, and clasping each other's hands smiled and moved theirheads in perfect time. 

Aunt Priscilla admitted that it was a beautiful sight, but she had herdoubts about it. Betty was sorry there was such a sad cause for her notbeing among them. Even Cary had expressed regrets about it. 

Then the Leveretts and Madam Royall went home. A few of the elders had agame of loo, and Mr. Adams played chess with Morris Winslow, whosepretty wife still enjoyed dancing, though he was growing stout andbegged to be excused on a warm night. 

They played forfeits afterward and had a merry time. Then there wassupper, and they drank toasts and made bright speeches, and there was agreat deal of jesting and gay laughter, and much wishing of success, ajudgeship in the future, a mission abroad perhaps, a pretty and lovingwife, a happy and honorable old age. 

They drank the health of Mr. Winthrop as well, and congratulated him onhis promising son. He was very proud and happy that night, and plannedwithin his heart what he would do for his boy. 

Doris kept begging to stay up a little longer. The music was sofascinating, for the band was playing soft strains out on the frontporch while the guests were at supper. She sat on the stairs quiteenchanted with the gay scene. 

The guests wandered about the hall and parlor and chatted joyously. Thenthere was a movement toward breaking up. 

Miss Alice espied her. 

"Oh, you midget, are you up here at midnight?" she cried. "Have we doneCary ample honor on his arrival at man's estate?"

"You were all so beautiful!" said Doris breathlessly. "And the dancingand the music: It was splendid!"

Helen kissed her good-night with girlish effusion. Some of the otherladies spoke to her, and Mrs. Winslow said: "No doubt you will have aparty in this old house. But you will have a girl's advantage. You neednot wait until you are twenty-one. "

When the last good-nights were said, and the lights put out, Cary Adamswondered whether he would have the determination to avow his plans. 

CHAPTER XIX

THE HIGH RESOLVE OF YOUTH

War was declared. The President, James Madison, proclaimed it June 18, 1812. Hostilities opened promptly. True, England's navy was largelyengaged with France in the tremendous effort to keep Napoleon confinedwithin the boundaries that he had at one time assented to by treaty, butat that period she had over a thousand vessels afloat, while America hadonly seventeen warships in her navy to brave them. 

There was a call for men and money. The Indian troubles had beenfomented largely by England. There had been fighting on the borders, butthe battle of Tippecanoe had broken the power of Tecumseh--for the time, at least. But now the hopes of the Indian chieftain revived, and thecountry was beset by both land and naval warfare. 

The town had been all along opposed to war. It had been said of Boston afew years before that she was like Tyre of old, and that her shipswhitened every sea. Still, now that the fiat had gone forth, the latententhusiasm came to the surface, and men were eager to enlist. A companyhad been studying naval tactics at Charlestown, and most of them offeredtheir services, filled with the enthusiasm of youth and brimming withindignation at the treatment our sailors were continually receiving. 

Still, the little navy had proudly distinguished itself in theMediterranean, and the _Constitution_ had gained for herself thesobriquet of "Old Ironsides"--a Boston-built vessel, though the liveoak, the red cedar, and the pitch pine had come from South Carolina. ButPaul Revere had furnished the copper bolts and spikes, and when the shipwas recoppered, later on, that came from the same place. Ephraim Thayer, at the South End, had made her gun carriages, and her sails weremanufactured in the Old Granary building. 

"A bunch of pine boards with a bit of striped bunting" had been theenemy's disdainful description of our youthful navy. And now they wereto try their prowess with the Mistress of the Seas, who had defeated thecombined navies of Europe. No wonder the country stood astounded overits own daring. 

Everything afloat was hurriedly equipped as a war vessel. The solid, far-sighted men of New York and New England shook their heads over thegreat mistake Congress and the President had made. 

Warren Leverett began to talk about enlisting. Business had been runningbehind. True, he could appeal to his brother-in-law King. He had soundedHollis, who declared he had all he could do to keep afloat himself. 

Mrs. Leverett besought him to take no hasty step. What could they dowithout him? They might break up the home. Electa would be glad to haveBetty--there were some things she could do, but Aunt Priscilla--whosehealth was really poor----

Aunt Priscilla understood the drift presently, and the perplexity. Warren admitted that if he had some money to tide him over he wouldfight through. The war couldn't last forever. 

"And you never thought of me!" declared Aunt Priscilla, pretending to bequite indignant. "See here, Warren Leverett, when I made my will Ilooked out for you and Betty. Mary Manning shan't hoard up any of mymoney, and 'Lecty King, thank the Lord, doesn't want it. So if you're tohave it in the end you may as well take some of it now, fursisee. Ishall have enough to last my time out. And I'm settled and comfortablehere and don't want to be routed out and set down elsewhere. "

Warren and his mother were surprised and overcome by the offer. He wouldtake it only on condition that he should pay Aunt Priscilla theinterest. 

But his business stirred up wonderfully. Still, they all felt it wasvery generous in Aunt Priscilla, whose money had really been her idol. 

Doris had gone over from her music lesson one afternoon. They werealways so glad to see her. Aunt Priscilla thought a piano in such timesas these was almost defying Providence. But even the promise of that didnot spoil Doris, and they were always glad to see her drop in and hearher dainty bits of news. 

They wanted very much to keep her to supper. 

"Why, they"--which meant the family at home--"will be sure you havestayed here or at the Royalls'. Mr. Winslow has given ever so much moneytoward the fitting out of a vessel. They are all very patriotic. AndCary's uncle, Mr. March, has gone in heart and hand. I don't know whichis right, " said Betty with a sigh, "but now that we are in it I hope wewill win. "

But Doris was afraid Miss Recompense would feel anxious, and shepromised to come in a few days and stay to supper. 

It was very odd that just as she reached the corner Cousin Cary shouldcross the street and join her. 

"I have been down having a talk with Warren, " he said as if inexplanation. "I wish I had a good, plodding business head like that, andWarren isn't lacking in the higher qualities, either. If there was moneyenough to keep the house going, he would enlist. He had almost resolvedto when this stir in business came. "

"Oh, I don't know what his mother would have done! If Uncle Leverett wasalive----"

"He would have consented in a minute. Someone's sons must go, " Cary saiddecisively. "No, don't go straight home--come over to the Common. Doris, you are only a little girl, but I want to talk to you. There is no oneelse----"

Doris glanced at him in amazement. He was quite generally grave, thoughhe sometimes teased her, and occasionally read with her and explainedany difficult point. But she always felt so like a very little girl withhim. 

They went on in silence, however, until they crossed Common Street andpassed on under the magnificent elms. Clumps of shrubbery were blooming. Vines ran riotously over supports, and roses and honeysuckle made theair sweet. 

"Doris, "--his voice had a little huskiness in it, --"you are very fond offather, and he loves you quite as if you were his own child. Oh, I wishyou were! I wish he had half a dozen sons and daughters. If mother hadlived----"

"Yes, " Doris said at length, in the long silence broken only by the songand whistle of myriad birds. 

"I don't know how to tell you. I can't soften things, incidents, orexplanations. I am so apt to go straight to the point, and though it maybe honorable, it is not always wisest or best. But I can't help it now. I have enlisted in the navy. We start for Annapolis this evening. "

"Oh, Cary! And Uncle Win----"

"That is it. That gives me a heartache, I must confess. For, you see, Ican't go and tell him in a manly way, as I would like. We have had sometalks over it. I asked him before I was of age, and he refused in themost decisive manner to consider it. He said if I went I would have tochoose between the country and him, which meant--a separation for years, maybe. It is strange, too, for he is noble and just and patriotic oncertain lines. I do think he would spend any money on me, give meeverything I could possibly want, but he feels in some way that I am hisand it is my duty to do with my life what he desires, not what I like. Iam talking over your head, you are such a little girl, and sosimple-hearted. And I have really come to love you a great deal, Doris. "

She looked up with a soft smile, but there were tears in her eyes. 

"You see, a big boy who has no sisters doesn't get used to little girls. And when he really begins to admire them they are generally older. Then, I have always been with boys and young men. I was glad when you came, because father was so interested in you. And I thought he had begun tolove you so much that he wouldn't really mind if I went away. But, yousee, his heart would be big enough for a houseful of children. "

"Oh, why do you go? He will be--broken-hearted. "

"Little Doris, I shall be broken-hearted if I stay. I shall begin tohate law--maybe I shall take to drink--young fellows do at times. I knowI shall be just good for nothing. I should like best to talk it overdispassionately with him, but that can't be done. We should both saythings that would hurt each other and that we should regret all ourlives. I have written him a long letter, but I wanted to tell someone. Ithought of Betty first, and Madam Royall, but no one can comfort himlike you. Then I wanted you to feel, Doris, that I was not anungrateful, disobedient son. I wish we could think alike about the war, but it seems that we cannot. And because you are here, --and, Doris, youare a very sweet little girl, and you will love him always, I know, --Igive him in your charge. I hope to come back, but the chances of war areof a fearful sort, and if I should not, will you keep to him always, Doris? Will you be son and daughter to him as you grow up--oh, Doris, don't cry! People die every day, you know, staying at home. I have oftenthought how sad it was that my mother and both your parents should dieso young----"

His voice broke then. They came to a rustic seat and sat down. He tookher hand and pressed it to his lips. 

"If I shouldn't ever come back"--tremulously--"I should like to feel atthe last moment there was someone who would tell him that my very latestthought was of him and his tender love all my twenty-one years. I wantyou to make him feel that it was no disrespect to him, but love for mycountry, that impelled me to the step. You will understand it betterwhen you grow older, and I can trust you to do me full justice and tobe tender to him. And at first, Doris, when I can, I shall write toyou. If he doesn't forbid you, I want you to answer if I can getletters. This is a sad, sad talk for a little girl----"

Doris tried very hard not to sob. She seemed to understand intuitivelyhow it was, and that to make any appeal could only pain him withoutpersuading. If she were as wise and bright as Betty!

"That is all--or if I said any more it would be a repetition, and it isawfully hard on you. But you will love him and comfort him. "

"I shall love him and stay with him all my life, " said Doris with tendersolemnity. 

They were both too young to understand all that such a promise implied. 

"My dear little sister!" He rose and stooping over kissed her on thefair forehead. "I will walk back to the house with you, " he added as sherose. 

Neither of them said a word until they reached the corner. Then he tookboth hands and, kissing her again, turned away, feeling that he couldnot even utter a good-by. 

Doris stood quite still, as if she was stunned. She was not crying inany positive fashion, but the tears dropped silently. She could not goindoors, so she went down to the big apple tree that had a seat allaround the trunk. Was Uncle Win at home? Then she heard voices. MissRecompense had a visitor, and she was very glad. 

The lady, an old friend, stayed to supper. Uncle Win did not make hisappearance. Doris took a book afterward and sat out on the stoop, butreading was only a pretense. She was frightened now at having a secret, and it seemed such a solemn thing as she recalled what she had promised. She would like to spend all her life with Uncle Win; but could she carefor him and make him happy, when the one great love of his life wasgone?

Miss Recompense walked out to the gate with her visitor, and they had agreat many last bits to say, and then she watched her going down thestreet. 

"Child, you can't see to read, " she said to Doris. "I think it is damp. You had better come in. Mr. Adams will not be home before ten. "

Doris entered the lighted hall and stood a moment uncertain. 

"How pale and heavy-eyed you look!" exclaimed Miss Recompense. "Doesyour head ache? Have they some new trouble in Sudbury Street?"

"Oh, no. But I am tired. I think I will go to bed. Good-night, dear MissRecompense, " and she gave her a gentle hug. 

She cried a little softly to her pillow. Had Cary gone? When Uncle Wincame home he would find the letter. She dreaded to-morrow. 

Cary had one more errand before he started. He had said good-by to themat Madam Royall's and announced his enlistment, but he had asked Aliceto meet him at the foot of the garden. They were not lovers, though hewas perhaps quite in love. And he knew that he had only to speak to gainhis father's consent and have his way to matrimony made easy, since itwas Alice Royall. But he had never been quite sure that she cared forhim with her whole soul, as Isabel had cared for Morris Winslow. And ifhe won her--would he, could he go away?

He used to wonder later on how much was pure patriotism and how much adesire to stand well with Alice Royall. She was proudly patriotic andhad stirred his blood many a time with her wishes and desires for thecountry. Grandmamma Royall had laughed a little at her vehemence, andsaid it was fortunate she was not a boy. 

"I should enlist at once. Or what would be better yet, I would begbrother Morris to fit out a war ship, and look up the men to command it, and go in _any_ capacity. I should not wait for a high-up appointment. "

When Cary confessed his step first to her, she caught his hands in hersso soft and delicate. 

"I knew you were the stuff out of which heroes were made!" she criedexultantly. "Oh, Cary, I shall pray for you day and night, and you willcome back crowned with honors. "

"If I come back----"

"You will. Take my word for your guerdon. I can't tell you _how_ I knowit, but I am sure you will return. I can see you and the future----"

She paused, flushed with excitement, her eyes intense, her rosy lipstremulous, and looked, indeed, as if she might be inspired. 

So she met him again at the garden gate for a last good-by. Young peoplewho had been well brought up did not play at love-making in those days, though they might be warm friends. A girl seldom gave or receivedcaresses until the elders had signified assent. An engagement was quitea solemn thing, not lightly to be entered into. And even to himself Caryseemed very young. All his instincts were those of a gentleman, and inhis father he had had an example of the most punctilious honor. 

They walked up and down a few moments. He pressed tender kisses on herfair hand, about which there always seemed to cling the odor of roses. And then he tore himself away with a passionate sorrow that his father, the nearest in human ties of love, could not bid him Godspeed. 

The next morning Doris wondered what had happened. There was aloneliness in the very air, as there had been when Uncle Leverett died. The sky was overcast, not exactly promising a storm, but soft andpenetrative, as if presaging sorrow. 

Oh, yes, she remembered now. She dressed herself and went quietlydownstairs. 

"You may as well come and have your breakfast, " exclaimed MissRecompense. "Your uncle sent down word that he had a headache and beggednot to be disturbed. He was up a long while after he came home lastnight; it must have been past midnight when he went to bed. I wish hedid not get so deeply interested in improvements and everything. And ifwe are to be bombarded and destroyed I don't see any sense in laying outnew streets and filling up ponds and wasting the money of the town. "

It seemed to Doris as if she could not swallow a mouthful. She triedheroically. Then she went out and gathered a bunch of roses for UncleWin's study. She generally read French and Latin a while with him in themorning. Then she made her bed, dusted her room, put her books in hersatchel and went to school in an unwilling sort of fashion. How long themorning seemed! Then there was a half-hour in deportment--we should callit physical culture at present. All the girls were gay and chatty. Eudora told her about a new lace stitch. Grandmamma had been outyesterday where there was such an elegant Spanish woman with coal-blackeyes and hair. Her family had fled to this country to escape the horrorsof war. They had been rich, but were now quite poor, and she wasthinking of having a needlework class. 

Did Eudora know Cary had gone away?

Uncle Win came out to dinner. She was a little late. He glanced up andgave a faint half-smile, but, oh, how deadly pale he was!

"Dear Uncle Winthrop--is your headache better?" she asked with gentlesolicitude. 

"A little, " he said gravely. 

It was a very quiet meal. Although Mr. Winthrop Adams had a delicateappearance, he was rarely ill. Now there were deep rings under his eyes, and the utter depression was sad indeed to behold. 

Doris nearly always ran in the study and gossiped girlishly about themorning's employments. Now she sauntered out on the porch. There wasneither music nor writing class. She wondered if she had better sew. Shewas learning to do that quite nicely, but the stocking still remained apuzzle. 

"Doris, " said a gentle voice through the open window; and the sadnesspierced her heart. 

She rose and went in. Solomon lay on his cushion in the corner, and evenhe, she thought, had a troubled look in his eyes. Uncle Win sat by thetable, and there lay Cary's letter. 

She put her arms about his neck and pressed her soft warm cheek againsthis, so cool that it startled her. 

"My clear little Doris, " he began. "I am childless. I have no son. Caryhas gone away, against my wishes, in the face of my prohibition. I donot suppose he will ever return alive. And so I have given him up, Doris"--his voice failed him. He had meant to say, "You are all I have. "

"Uncle Win--may I tell you--I saw him yesterday in the afternoon. And hetold me he had enlisted----"

"Oh, then, you know!" The tone somehow grew harder. 

"Dear Uncle Win, I think he could not help going. He was very brave. And he was sorry, too. His eyes were full of tears while he was talking. And he asked me----"

"To intercede for him?"

"No--to stay here with you always. He said I was like a little sister. And I promised. Uncle Win, if you will keep me I will be your littlegirl all my life long. I will never leave you. I love you very dearly. For since Uncle Leverett went away I have given you both loves. "

She stood there in silence many minutes. Oh, how comforting was theclasp of the soft arms about his neck, how consoling the dear, assuringvoice!

"Will you tell me about it?" he said at length. 

She was a wise little thing, though I think her chief wisdom lay in herdesire not to give anyone pain. Some few sentences she left out, othersshe softened. 

"Oh, " she said beseechingly, "you will not be angry with him, UncleWinthrop? I think it is very brave and heroic in him. It is like some ofthe old soldiers in the Latin stories. I shall study hard now, so I canread about them all. And I shall pray all the time that the war willcome to an end. We shall be so proud and glad when he returns. And thenyou will have two children again. "

"Yes--we will hope for the war to end speedily. It ought never to havebegun. What can we do against an enemy that has a hundred arms ready todestroy us? Little Doris, I am glad to have you. "

Winthrop Adams was not a man to talk over his sorrows. He had beenwounded to the quick. He had not dreamed that his son would disregardhis wishes. His fatherly pride was up in arms. But he did not turn hiswounded side to the world. He quietly admitted that his son had gone toAnnapolis, and received the congratulations of friends who sincerelybelieved it was time to strike. 

Salem was busy at her wharves, where peaceable merchantmen were beingtransformed into war vessels. Charlestown was all astir, and sailorsdonned the uniform proudly. New York and Baltimore joined in the generalactivity. The _Constellation_ was fitting out at Norfolk. The_Chesapeake_, the _United States_, and the _President_ were to be madefamous on history's page. Privateers without number were hurried to thefore. 

The _Constitution_ had quite a reception in New York, and she startedout with high endeavors. She had not gone far, however, before she foundherself followed by three British frigates, and among them the_Guerriere_, whose captain Commodore Hull had met in New York. To becaptured in this manner--for fighting against such odds would be of noavail--was not to be thought of, so there was nothing but a race beforehim. If he could reach Boston he would save his ship and his men, andsomewhere perhaps gain a victory. 

Ah, what a race it was! The men put forth all their strength, all theiringenuity. At times it seemed as if capture was imminent. By night andby day, trying every experiment, working until they dropped from sheerfatigue, and after an hour or two of rest going at it again--CaptainHull kept her well to the windward, and with various maneuveringspuzzled the pursuers. Then Providence favored them with a fine, drivingrain, and she flew along in the darkness of the night, hardly daring tohope, but at dawn, after a three days' race, Boston was in sight, andher enemies were left behind. 

But that was not in any sense a complete victory, and she started outagain to face her enemy and conquer if she could, for her captain knewthe British ship _Guerriere_ was lying somewhere in wait for her. Everybody prayed and hoped. Firing was heard, but at such a distancefrom the harbor nothing could be decided. 

The frontier losses had been depressing in the extreme. Boston had hungher flags at half-mast for the brave dead. But suddenly a report camethat the _Constitution_ had been victorious, and that the _Guerriere_after having been disabled beyond any power of restoration, had beensent to a watery grave. 

In a moment it seemed as if the whole town was in a transport of joy. Flags were waving everywhere, and a gayly decorated flotilla went out inthe harbor to greet the brave battle-scarred veteran. And when the taleof the great victory ran from lip to lip the rejoicing was unbounded. Anational salute was fired, which was returned from the ship. The streetswere in festive array and crowded with people who could not restraintheir wild rejoicing. The _Guerriere_, which was to drive the insolentstriped bunting from the face of the seas, had been swept away in abrief hour and a half, and the bunting waved above her grave. That nightthe story was told over in many a home. The loss of the _Constitution_had been very small compared to that of the _Guerriere_, which hadtwenty-three dead and fifty-six wounded; and Captain Dacres headed thelist of prisoners. 

There was a grand banquet at the Exchange Coffee House. The freedom ofthe city was presented to Captain Hull, and New York sent him a handsomesword. Congress voted him a gold medal, and Philadelphia a service ofplate. 

At one blow the prestige of invincibility claimed for the British navywas shattered. And now the _Constitution's_ earlier escape from the hotchase of the three British frigates was understood to be a great racefor the nation's honor and welfare, as well as for their own lives, andat last the baffled pursuers, out-sailed, out-maneuvered, droppedbehind with no story of success to tell, and were to gnaw their heartsin bitterness when they heard of this glorious achievement. 

Uncle Winthrop took Doris and Betty out in the carriage that they mightsee the great rejoicing from all points. Everywhere one heard bits ofthe splendid action and the intrepidity of Captain Hull and his men. 

"I only wish Cary had been in it, " said Betty with sparkling eyes. 

Warren told them that when Lieutenant Read came on deck with CaptainHull's "compliments, and wished to know if they had struck their flag, "Captain Dacres replied:

"Well--I don't know. Our mizzenmast is gone, our mainmast is gone, and Ithink you may say on the whole that we have struck our flag. "

One of the points that pleased Mr. Adams very much was the officialreport of Captain Dacres, who "wished to acknowledge, as a matter ofcourtesy, that the conduct of Captain Hull and his officers to our menhad been that of a brave enemy; the greatest care being taken to preventour losing the smallest trifle, and the kindest attention being paid tothe wounded. "

More than one officer was to admit the same fact before the war ended, even if we did not receive the like consideration from our enemies. 

"I only wish Cary had been on the _Constitution_, " said Betty eagerly. "I should be proud of the fact to my dying day, and tell it over to mygrandchildren. "

A tint of color wavered over Uncle Winthrop's pale face. No onementioned Cary, out of a sincere regard for his father, except peopleoutside who did not know the truth of his sudden departure; though manyof his young personal friends were aware of his interest and his studyon the subject. 

Old Boston had a gala time surely. The flags floated for days, andeveryone wore a kind of triumphant aspect. That her own ship, built withso much native work and equipments, should be the first to which aBritish frigate should strike her colors was indeed a triumph. Thoughthere were not wanting voices across the sea to say the _Guerriere_should have gone down with flying colors, but even that would have beenimpossible. 

Miss Recompense and Uncle Winthrop began to discuss Revolutionary times, and Doris listened with a great deal of interest. She delighted toidentify herself strongly with her adopted country, and in her secretheart she was proud of Cary, though she could not be quite sure he wasright in the step he had taken. They missed him so much. She tried inmany ways to make up the loss, and her devotion went to her uncle'sheart. 

If they could only hear! Not to know where he was seemed so hard tobear. 

CHAPTER XX

A VISITOR FOR DORIS

Doris was in the little still-room, as it was called--a large sort ofpantry shelved on one side, and with numerous drawers and a kind ofdresser with glass doors on another. By the window there were a tableand the dainty little still where Miss Recompense made perfumes andextracts. There were boxes of sweet herbs, useful ones, bottles ofmedicinal cordials and salves. Miss Recompense was a "master hand" atsuch things, and the neighbors around thought her as good as a doctor. 

It was so fragrant in this little room that Doris always had a vagueimpression of a beautiful country. She had a kind of poeticaltemperament, and she hoped some day to be able to write verses. HelenChapman had written a pretty song for a friend's birthday and had it setto music. The quartette sang it so well that the leading paper hadpraised it. There was no one she could confess her secret ambition to, but if she ever _did_ achieve anything she would confide in UncleWinthrop. So she sat here with all manner of vague, delightful ideasfloating through her brain, steeped with the fragrance of balms andodors. 

"Please, 'm, " and Dinah stood in the door in all the glory of her gayafternoon turban, which seemed to make her face more black andshining--"Please, 'm, dere's a young sojer man jus' come. He got abundle an' he say he got strict d'rections to gib it to missy. An'here's de ticket. "

"Oh, for me!" Doris took it eagerly and read aloud, "Lieutenant E. D. Hawthorne. " "Oh, Miss Recompense, it's from Cary, I know, " and for amoment she looked undecided. 

Miss Recompense had on her morning gown, rather faded, though she hadchanged it for dinner. Her sleeves were pushed above the elbow, herhands were a little stained, and just now she could not leave herconcoction without great injury to it, though it was evidently improperfor a child like Doris, or indeed a young lady, to see a strangegentleman alone. And Mr. Adams was out. 

Doris cut the Gordian knot by flashing through the kitchen and enteringthe lower end of the hall. The young man stood viewing "The Destructionof the Spanish Armada. " But he turned at the sort of bird-like flutterand glanced at the vision that all his life long he thought theprettiest sight he had ever beheld. 

She had on a simple white frock, though it was one of her best, with anarrow embroidered ruffle around the bottom that Madam Royall had givenher. When it was a little crumpled she put it on for afternoon wear. Theneck was cut a small square with a bit of edging around it, gatheredwith a pink ribbon tied in a bow in front. She still wore her hair inringlets; it did not seem to grow very fast, but she had been promotedto a pompadour, the front hair being brushed up over a cushion. Thatleft innumerable short ends to curl in tiny tendrils about her forehead. Oddly enough, too, she had on a pink apron Betty had made out of thebest breadth of a pink India lawn frock she had worn out. It had prettypockets with a bow of the same. 

"Miss Doris Adams, " exclaimed the young lieutenant. "I should have knownyou in a minute, although you are----" He paused and flushed, for Caryhad said, "She isn't exactly handsome, but very sweet-looking withpretty, eager eyes and fair hair. " He checked himself suddenly, understanding the impropriety of paying her the compliment on the end ofhis tongue, but he thought her an enchanting picture. "You are largerthan I supposed. Adams always said 'My little cousin. '"

"I was little when I first came. And I have grown ever so much thissummer--since Cary went away. Oh, have you seen him? How is he? Where ishe?"

Doris had a soft and curiously musical voice, the sound that lingeredwith a sort of cadence. Her eyes shone in eager expectation, her curvedred lips were dewy sweet. 

"He is well. He has sailed on the _United States_ as midshipman. I sawhim at Annapolis--indeed, we came quite near being on the same vessel. He is a fine young fellow, but he doesn't look a day over eighteen. Andthere _is_ a family resemblance, " but he thought Doris would make a muchhandsomer young woman than Cary would a young man. "And I have a smallpacket for you that I was to deliver to no one else. "

He held it out to her with a smile. It was sealed, and was also securedwith a bit of cord, which, of course, should have been a thread of silk, but we saved our refinements of chivalry for other purposes. 

"He is going to make a fine, earnest, patriotic sailor. You will neverhear anything about him that you need be ashamed of. He told me hisfather wasn't quite reconciled to the step, but after this splendidvictory in Boston harbor--to strain a little point, " laughingly, "thetown may well be proud of the courageous navy. And I hope you will heargood news of him. One thing you may be sure of--he will never show thewhite feather. "

Oh, how her eyes glistened! There were tears in them as well. 

"He described the house to me, and the town. I have never been in Bostonbefore, and have come from Washington on important business. I returnthis evening. I don't know when I shall see him again, and letters tovessels are so uncertain. That seems the hardest part of it all. But hemay happen in this very port before a great while. One never knows. Believe that I am very glad to have the opportunity of coming myself, and if in the future I should run across him on the high seas or theshore even, "--smiling again, --"I shall feel better acquainted and morethan ever interested in him. There is one great favor I should like toask--could you show me the study? Adams talked so much about that andhis father. "

"It is here. " Doris made a pretty gesture with her hand, and he walkedto the door, glancing around. There was the high backed chair by thetable with its covering of Cordovan leather, and he could imagine thefather sitting there. 

"One would want a year to journey around these four walls, " he said witha soft sigh. "A library like this is an uncommon sight. And you studyhere? Adams said you had been such a comfort and pleasure to his father. Oh, what a magnificent cat!"

"Kitty is mine, " said Doris. She crossed over to the window, and Solomonrose to his fullest extent, gave a comfortable stretch, and rubbed thecheek of his young mistress, then arched his back, studied the visitorout of sleepy green eyes and began to turn around him three times in catfashion. 

They both laughed at that. Did Doris know what a pretty picture she madeof herself in her girlish grace?

"Thank you. What a splendid old hall! I should like to spend a daylooking round. But I had only the briefest while, and I was afraid Ishould not get here. So I must be satisfied with my glimpse. I shallhope that fate will send me this way again when I have more leisure. MayI pay a visit here?"

"Oh, yes, " returned Doris impulsively. "And I can never tell you howglad I am for this, " touching the little packet caressingly to hercheek. "There isn't any word with enough thanks and gratitude in it. "

"I am glad to have earned your gratitude. And now I must say farewell, for I know you are impatient to read your letter. "

He stepped out on the porch and bowed with a kind of courtly grace. Doris realized then that he was a very handsome young man. 

"Miss Doris, "--he paused halfway down the steps, --"I wonder if I mightbe so bold as to ask for yonder rose--the last on its parent stem?"

Thomas Moore had not yet immortalized "The Last Rose of Summer" andgiven it such pathetic possibilities. 

"Oh, yes, " she said. "That is a late-blooming rose--indeed, it bloomstwice in the season. " Only this morning she had gathered a bowl of roseleaves for Miss Recompense, and this one had opened since. She brokethe stem and handed it to him. "It is a very little gift for all youhave brought me, " she added in a soft, heart-felt tone. 

"Thank you. I shall cherish it sacredly. "

Miss Recompense had hurried and donned a gingham gown and a fresh cap. She had come just in time to see the gift, and the manner in which theyoung man received it alarmed her. And when he had walked down to thestreet he turned and bowed and made a farewell gesture with his hand. 

Doris had nothing to cut the cord around the packet, so she bit it withher pretty teeth and tore off the wrapper, coming up the steps. Thenraising her eyes she sprang forward. 

"Oh, dear Miss Recompense, letters, see! A letter from Cary all tomyself, and one for Uncle Win! I'll just put that on his table to be ajoyful surprise. And may I come and read mine to you? He was in such ahurry, though really I did not ask him to stay. Was that impolite?"

"No--under the circumstances. " She cleared her throat a little, but thelecture on propriety would not materialize. 

"'Dear little Doris. ' Think of that--wouldn't Cary be surprised to seehow much I have grown! May I sit here?"

Miss Recompense was about to decant some of her preparations. Doris tookthe high stool and read eagerly, though now and then a little break camein her voice. The journey to Annapolis with half a dozen college chumsbent on the same errand, the being mustered into the country's serviceand assigned to positions, meeting famous people and hearing somethrilling news, and at last the order for sailing, were vivid as apicture. She was to let Madam Royall and the household read all this, and he sent respectful regard to them all, and real love to all theLeveretts. There had been moments when he was wild to see them again, but after all he was prouder than ever to be of service to his country, who needed her bravest sons as much now as in her seven years' struggle. 

There was a loose page beginning "For your eyes alone, Doris, " and shelaid it by, for she felt even now that she wanted to cry over her bravecousin. Then he spoke of Lieutenant Hawthorne, who had been instrumentalin getting him his appointment, and who had undertaken to see that thiswould reach her safely. And so many farewells, as if he could hardly saythe very last one. 

Miss Recompense wiped her eyes and stepped about softly, as if her wholebody was pervaded with a new tenderness. She made little comments torestore the equilibrium, so that neither would give way to undueemotion. 

"Miss Recompense, do you think I might run up to Aunt Elizabeth's withmy letter? They will all want to hear. "

"Why--I see no objections, child. And then if you wanted to go to MadamRoyall's--but I think they will keep you to tea at Sudbury Street. LetBetty or Warren walk home with you. Take off your apron. "

Doris read half a dozen lines of her own personal letter and laid it inthe bottom of her workbox, that had come from India, and had a subtlefragrance. She did not want to cry in real earnest, as she felt sheshould, with all these references to Uncle Win. She tied on her hat andsaid "Good-afternoon, " and really did run part of the way. 

They were just overflowing with joy to hear, only Betty said, "What ashame Cary had to go before the glorious news of the _Constitution_!There was a chance of two days after he had written his letter, so hemight have heard. " Postage was high at that time and mails uncertain, soletters and important matters were often trusted to private hands. ThenLieutenant Hawthorne had not gone to Boston as soon as he expected. 

Betty had some news too. Mr. And Mrs. King were going to Washington, perhaps for the greater part of the winter. 

As they walked home Betty rehearsed her perplexities to Doris. It wasodd how many matters were confided to this girl of thirteen, but sheseemed so wise and sensible and sympathetic. 

"If it wasn't quite such hard times, and if Warren could marry and bringMercy home! She's an excellent housekeeper, just the wife for astruggling young man, mother admits. But whether _she_ would like it, and whether Aunt Priscilla would feel comfortable, are the greatquestions. She's been so good to Warren. Mary badgered him dreadfullyabout her part. If Mary was a little more like Electa!"

Warren had been keeping company with Mercy Gilman for the last year. Shewas a bright, cheerful, industrious girl, well brought up, and theengagement was acceptable to both families. Young people paid moredeference to their elders then. Warren felt that he could not go awayfrom home, and surely there was room enough if they could all agree. 

"It's odd how many splendid things come to Electa, though it may bebecause she is always willing to take advantage of them. They haverented their house in New York and are to take some rooms in Washington. Bessy and Leverett are to be put in school, and she takes the two littleones. Their meals are to be sent in from a cook shop. Of course shecan't be very gay, being in mourning. Everybody says Mrs. Madison is socharming. "

"Oh, I wish you could go, " sighed Doris. 

"And Mary is always wondering why I do not come and stay with her, andsew and help along. Oh, Doris, what if I should be the old maid aunt andgo visiting round! For there hasn't a soul asked me to keep companyyet, " and Betty laughed. But she was not very anxious on the subject. 

They reached the corner and kissed each other good-night. MissRecompense sat on the stoop with a little shawl about her shoulders. Shedrew Doris down beside her and inquired about her visit. 

While there was much that was stern and hard and reticent in the Puritancharacter, there was also an innate delicacy concerning the inward life. They made few appeals to each other's sympathies. Perhaps this veryreserve gave them strength to endure trials heroically and not burdenothers. 

Miss Recompense had judged wisely that Mr. Adams would prefer to receivehis missive alone. His first remark had been the usual question:

"Where is Doris?"

"Oh, we have had quite an adventure--a call from a young naval officer. Here is his card. He brought letters to you and Doris, and she was eagerto take hers over to Betty. She will stay to supper. "

He scrutinized the card while his breath came in strangling gasps, buthe preserved his composure outwardly. 

"Did you--did he----" pausing confusedly. 

"I did not see him, " returned Miss Recompense quietly. "I was not incompany trim, and he asked for Doris. I dare say he thought her a younglady. "

"Is he staying in Boston?" fingering the card irresolutely. 

"He was to return to Washington at once. He had come on some urgentbusiness. "

Mr. Adams went through to his study. He looked at the address somemoments before he broke the seal, but he found the first linesreassuring. 

"Will you have supper now?" asked Miss Recompense from the doorway. 

"If convenient, yes. " He laid down his letter and came out in the hall. "Doris told you all her news, I suppose?"

"She read me her letter. Cary seems to be in good spirits and position. He spoke very highly of Lieutenant Hawthorne. "

"The accounts seem very satisfactory. "

Then they went out to the quiet supper. A meal was not the same withoutDoris. 

All the evening he had remained in his room, reading his son's lettermore than once and lapsing into deep thought over it. He heard thegreetings now, and came out, inquiring after the folks in SudburyStreet, sitting down on the step and listening with evident pleasure toDoris' eager chat. It was bedtime when they dispersed. 

"Uncle Win, " Doris said the next morning, "there is a page in my letterI would like you to read. And do you think I might go home with Eudoraand take dinner at Madam Royall's? Cary sent them some messages. "

"Yes, child, " he made answer. 

They were indeed very glad, but like Betty they could not help wishinghe had been on the famous _Constitution_. Alice was particularlyinterested, and said she should watch the career of the _United States_. 

After that the ice seemed broken and no one hesitated to mention Cary. But Mr. Winthrop said to Doris:

"My dear child, will you give me this leaf of your letter. I know Carydid not mean it for my eyes, but it is very precious to me. Doris, howcomes it that you find the way to everybody's heart?"

"And you will forgive him, Uncle Win? He was so brave----" Her voicetrembled. 

"I have forgiven him, Doris. If I should never see him again, --you areyoung and most likely will, --assure him there never was a moment that Iceased to love him. Perhaps I have not taken as much pains to understandhim as I might have. I suppose different influences act upon the newgeneration. If we should both live to welcome him back----"

"Oh, we must, Uncle Win. "

"If he has you----" Oh, what was he saying?

"You will both have me. I shall stay here always. "

He stooped and kissed her. 

The other alternative, that Cary might not return, they banishedresolutely. But it drew them nearer together in unspoken sympathy. 

Everybody noted how thin and frail-looking Mr. Adams had grown. Dorisbecame his constant companion. She had a well-trained horse now, andthey rode a good deal. Or they walked down Washington street, wherethere were some pretty shops, and met promenaders. They sauntered aboutCornhill, where Uncle Win picked up now and then an odd book, and theydiscovered strange things that had belonged to the Old Boston of ahundred years agone. There was quite an art gallery in Cornhill kept byDogget & Williams--the nucleus of great things to come. It was quite thefashion for young ladies to drop in and exercise their powers of buddingcriticism or love of art. Now and then someone lent a portrait ofSmibert's or Copley's, or you found some fine German or Englishengravings. An elder person generally accompanied the younger people. The law students, released from their labors, or the young society men, would walk home beside the chaperone, but talk to the maidens. 

Then Uncle Winthrop committed a piece of great extravagance, everybodysaid--especially in such times as these, when the British might take anddestroy Boston. This was buying a pianoforte. Madam Royall approved, forDoris was learning to play very nicely. An old German musician, GottliebGraupner, who was quite a visitor at the Royall house, had imported itfor a friend who had been nearly ruined by war troubles and wascompelled to part with it. Mr. Graupner and a knot of musical friendsused to meet Saturday evenings in old Pond Street, and with a fewinstruments made a sort of orchestra. As a very great favor, friendswere occasionally invited in. 

There was a new organist at Trinity Church, a Mr. Jackson, who wastrying to bring in the higher class cathedral music. The choir of ParkStreet Church, some fifty in number, was considered one of the greatsuccesses of the day, and people flocked to hear it. Puritan music hadbeen rather doleful and depressing. 

There was quite a discussion as to where the piano should stand. Theyhad very little call to use the parlor in winter. Uncle Winthrop'sfriends generally visited him in the study. The spacious hall was theordinary living-room, and Doris begged that it might be kept here--forthe winter, at least. 

Oh, what a cheerful sound the music made in the old house! Uncle Winwould bring out a book of poems, often Milton's "L'Allegro" and halfread, half listen, to the entrancing combination. Dinah declared "Itwas like de w'ice ob de Angel Gabriel hisself. " Miss Recompense enjoyedthe grand old hymns that brought back her childhood. 

Solomon at first made a vigorous protest. He seemed jealous of thepretty fingers gliding over the keys, and would spring up to cover themor rest on her arms. But when he found he was banished to the kitchenevery evening, he began to consider and presently gave in. He would sitbeside Uncle Win in dignified protest, looking very "dour, " as aScotchman would say. 

And then the country was electrified with the news of another greatvictory. Off the Canary Islands, Captain Decatur, with the frigate_United States_, met the _Macedonian_, one of the finest of the Britishfleet. The fight had been at close quarters with terrific broadsides. After an hour and a half, with her fighting force disabled, the_Macedonian_ struck her colors. Her loss in men killed and wounded wasover one hundred, and the _United States_ lost five killed and sevenwounded. 

The American vessel brought her prize and prisoners into port amidgeneral acclaim. The _Macedonian_ was repaired and added to thefast-increasing navy, that was rapidly winning a world-wide reputation. And when she came up to New York early in January with "The complimentsof the season, " there was great rejoicing. Samuel Woodworth, printer andpoet, wrote the song of the occasion, and Calvert, another poet, celebrated the event in an ode. 

Captain Carden was severely censured by his own government, as CaptainDacres had been, for not going down with flying colors instead ofallowing his flag to be captured and his ship turned to the enemy'sadvantage. Instead of jeering at the navy of "pine boards and stripedbunting, " it was claimed the American vessels were of superior size andarmament and met the British at unfair advantage, and that they werelargely manned by English sailors. 

There was an enthusiastic note from Cary. He was well, and it had been aglorious action. Captain Carden had been a brave gentleman, and he saidregretfully, "Oh, why do we have to fight these heroic men!"

But Betty had the letter of triumph this time. Mrs. King was adelightful correspondent, though she was always imploring Betty to joinher. 

There had been a ball and reception given to several naval officers whowere soon to go away. The President, engaged with some weighty affairs, had not come in yet, but the Secretary of the Navy, Mr. Hamilton, and noend of military and naval men, in gold lace and epaulettes and gleamingswords, were present, and beautiful, enthusiastic women in shimmeringsilks and laces. One did not have to get a new gown for every occasionin those days. 

There was a little lull in the dancing. Mrs. Madison, who was charminglyaffable, was seated with a group of men about her, when there was a stirin the hall, and a sudden thrill of expectancy quivered through theapartment. Ensign Hamilton, son of the Secretary, and several midshipmenentered, and the young man went straight to his father with the capturedflag of the _Macedonian_. Such a cheer as rent the air! Ladies wipedtheir eyes and then waved their handkerchiefs in the wild burst of joy. They held the flag over the heads of the chief officer while the bandplayed "Hail, Columbia!" Then it was laid at the feet of Mrs. Madison, who accepted it in the name of the country with a charming and gracefulspeech. Afterward it was festooned on the wall with the flag of the_Guerriere_. 

"So, you see, Cary has been the hero of a great victory, " said Bettyenthusiastically; "but we all wish it had been 'off Boston Light'instead of on the distant ocean. And it is a shame not to be inWashington. Electa seems to be going everywhere and seeing everything, 'in spite of her being the mother of four children, ' as Aunt Priscillasays. And the ladies dress so beautifully. We shall come to be known as'plain Boston' presently. "

There was no Worth or Pingat to charge enormous prices. Patterns werepassed around. Ladies went visiting and took their sleeves along tomake, or their ruffles to plait, and altered over their brocades andpaduasoys and crapes, and some darned Brussels "footing" until it wastransformed into really handsome lace. They could clean their feathersand ribbons, and one wonders how they found time for so many things. They were very good letter writers too. Dolly Madison and Mrs. Adams arefresh and interesting to-day. 

But Boston could rejoice, nevertheless. To the little girl Cary wasinvested with the attributes of a hero. He even looked different to herenchanted eyes. 

Uncle Win used to smile with grave softness when she chattered abouthim. At first it had given him a heartache to hear Cary's namementioned, but now it was like a strain of comforting music. Only hewondered how he ever would have lived without the little girl from OldBoston. 

She used to play and sing "Hail, Columbia!"--for people were patrioticthen. But the sweetest of all were the old-fashioned ones that his wifehad sung as a young girl, daintily tender love songs. Sometimes he triedthem with her, but his voice sounded to himself like a pale ghost out ofthe past, yet it still had a mournful sweetness. 

But with the rejoicing we had many sorrows. Our northern frontierwarfare had been full of defeats; 1813 opened with various misfortunes. Ports were blockaded, business dropped lower and lower. Still sociallife went on, and in a tentative way intellectual life was making someprogress. 

The drama was not neglected either. The old Boston Theater gave severalstirring representations that to-day would be called quite realistic. One was the capture of the _Guerriere_ with officers, sailors andmarines, and songs that aroused drooping patriotism. Perhaps the youngpeople of that time enjoyed it as much as their grandchildren did "H. M. S. Pinafore. "

Doris liked the rare musical entertainments. People grew quite used toseeing Mr. Winthrop Adams with the pretty, bright, growing girl, whomight have been his daughter. It was a delight to her when anyone madethe mistake. Occasionally an old gentleman remembered her grandfather, and the little boy Charles who went to England. 

Then in the early summer Mrs. King came on for a visit, and brought hereldest child Bessy, a bright, well-trained little girl. 

There had been a good deal of trouble at the Mannings', and grandmotherhad gone back and forth, making it very confining for Betty. Crops hadproved poor in the autumn; the children had the measles and Mrs. Manninga run of fever. Elizabeth had taken a cold in the early fall and had atroublesome cough all winter. Mrs. Leverett wanted to bring her home fora rest, but Mrs. Manning could not spare her, with all the summer work, and the warm weather would set her up, she was quite sure. 

The country was drawing a brief breath of relief. There had been themagnificent victories on the Lakes and some on the land, and now andthen came cheering news of naval successes. Everybody was in betterspirits. Mrs. King seemed to bring a waft of hope from the Capitalitself, and the Leverett house was quite enlivened with callers. Invitations came in for dinners and suppers and evening parties. MadamRoyall quite claimed her on the strength of the Adams relation, and alsoDoris, who was such a favorite. Doris and little Bessy fraternized atonce, and practiced a duet for the entertainment of Uncle Winthrop, whopraised them warmly. 

She planned to take Betty back to New York with her. 

"But I can't go, " declared Betty. "Warren must not be taxed any moreheavily, so there would be no hope of having help, and mother cannot beleft alone. "

"Is there any objection to Mercy coming? Why doesn't Warren marry? Thatwould relieve you all. I suppose it _is_ best for young people to have ahome by themselves, but if it isn't possible--and I'd like to know howwe are going to get along in heaven if we can't agree with each otherhere on earth!" Mrs. King inquired. 

"That sounds like father, " said Betty laughingly, yet the tears came toher eyes. "Poor father! He did not suppose we would have such hardtimes. If the war would only end. You see, "--after a pause, --"we are notquite sure of Aunt Priscilla. She's changed and softened wonderfully, and she and mother get along so well. She insisted upon paying agenerous board, and she was good to Warren. "

"I must talk it over with mother. There is no need of having your lifespoiled, Betty. "

For Betty was a very well-looking girl, arch and vivacious, and herharvest time of youth must not be wasted. Mrs. King was really glad shehad no entanglement. 

Mrs. Leverett had no objections to a speedy marriage If Mercy could becontent. Warren had thought if he could be prosperous he would like tobuy out Betty's share if she married. "And my share will be mine aslong as I live, " added the mother. "But Warren is fond of the old house, and Hollis has a home of his own. You girls will never want it. "

Warren was delighted with what he called "Lecty's spunk. " For AuntPriscilla agreed quite readily. It was dull for Betty with two oldpeople. Mercy would have her husband. 

So the wedding day was appointed. Mercy had been a year getting ready. Girls began soon after they were engaged. Mrs. Gilman was rather afraidthe thing wouldn't work, but she was sure Mercy was good tempered, andshe had been a good daughter. 

They made quite a "turning round. " Mrs. Leverett went upstairs toBetty's room, which adjoined Aunt Priscilla's, and she gave some of herfurniture for the adornment of the bridal chamber. 

It was a very quiet wedding with a few friends and a supper. At nineo'clock the new wife went to Sudbury Street. Mrs. Gilman had some ratherstrict ideas, and declared it was no time for frolicking when war was atour very door, and no one knew what might happen, and hundreds offamilies were in pinching want. 

Mercy was up the next morning betimes and assisted her new mother withthe breakfast. Warren went down to his shop. But they had quite anelaborate tea drinking at the Leveretts', and some songs and games inthe evening. Mercy _did_ enjoy the wider life. 

Mrs. Manning had come in for the wedding and a few days' stay, thoughshe didn't see how she could be spared just now, and things would getdreadfully behindhand. Mrs. King was to go home with her and make alittle visit. Bessy thought she would rather stay with Doris, and shewas captivated with the Royall House and Eudora. The children neverseemed in the way of the grown people there, and if elderly men talkedpolitics and city improvements, --quite visionary, some thoughtthem, --the young people with Alice and Helen had the garden walks andthe wide porch, and discussed the enjoyments of the time with the zestof enthusiastic inexperience but keen delight. 

CHAPTER XXI

ELIZABETH AND--PEACE

Mrs. King brought back Elizabeth Manning, a pale, slim ghost of a girl, tall for her age--indeed, really grown up, her mother said. Of the threegirls Bessy King had the most indications of the traditional countrygirl. A fine clear skin, pink cheeks and a plump figure, and aninexhausible flow of spirits, ready for any fun or frolic. 

Doris was always well, but she had the Adams complexion, which wasrather pale, with color when she was warm, or enthusiastic or indignant. The pink came and went like a swift summer cloud. 

"I do declare, " exclaimed Aunt Priscilla, "if 'Lecty King doesn't beatall about getting what she wants, and making other people believe theywant it, too! Warren might as well have been married in the winter, andMercy would have been company for Betty. She never liked to run out andleave me alone. Mercy seems a nice, promising body, and Warren might aswell be happy and settled as not. And 'Lecty's been to Washington anddined with the President and Mrs. Madison, and I'll venture to say therewas something the President's wife consulted her about. And all the bigcaptains and generals, and what not! And here's the quality of Bostonrunning after her and asking her out just as if we had nothing to feedher on at home. She don't do anything, fursisee, but just look smilingand talk. But my opinion is that Elizabeth Manning hasn't a very longjourney to the graveyard. I don't see what Mary's been thinking about. "

Mrs. King took her niece to Dr. Jackson, one of the best medicalauthorities of that day, and he looked the young girl over with his keeneyes. 

"If you want the real truth, " said the doctor, "she has had too mucheast wind and too much hard work. The children of this generation arenot going to stand what their mothers did. A bad cold or two next winterwill finish her, but with care and no undue exposure she may liveseveral years. But she will never reach the three score and ten thatevery human being has a right to. "

Uncle Winthrop sent the carriage around every day to the Leveretts'. They had given up theirs before Mr. Leverett's death. He and Doris tooktheir morning horseback rides and scoured the beautiful country placesfor miles around, until Doris knew every magnificent tree or unusualshrub or queer old house and its history. These hours were a greatdelight to him. 

Elizabeth had often gone down to Salem town, but her time was so briefand there was so much to do that she "couldn't bother. " And she wonderedhow Doris knew about the shops in Essex Street and Federal Street andMiss Rust's pretty millinery show, and Mr. John Innes' delicate Frenchrolls and braided bread, and Molly Saunders' gingerbread that the schoolchildren devoured, and the old Forrester House with its legends and fineold pictures and the lovely gardens, the wharves with their idle fleetsthat dared not put out to sea for fear of being swallowed up by theenemy. 

Uncle Winthrop had taken her several times when some business had calledhim thither. But, truth to tell, she had never cared to repeat hervisit to Mrs. Manning's. 

The piano was like a bit of heaven, Elizabeth thought, the first timeshe came over to visit Doris. 

"Oh, " she said, with a long sigh, pressing her hand on her heart, forthe deep breaths always hurt her, "if I was only prepared to go toheaven I shouldn't want to stay here a day longer. When they sing about'eternal rest' it seems such a lovely thing, and to 'lay your burdensdown. ' But then there's 'the terrors of the law, ' and the 'judgments tocome, ' and the great searching of the hearts and reins--do you know justwhat the reins are?"

No, Doris didn't. Heaven had always seemed a lovely place to her and Godlike a father, only grander and tenderer than any human father could be. 

Then they talked about praying, and it came out that Doris said hermother's prayers still in French and her father's in English. 

"Oh, " exclaimed Elizabeth, horrified, "I shouldn't dare to pray to Godin French--it would seem like a mockery. And 'Now I lay me down tosleep' is just a baby prayer, and really isn't pouring out your own soulto God. "

Doris asked Uncle Winthrop about it. 

"My child, " he said with grave sweetness, "you can never say any betterprayers of your own. The Saviour himself gave us the comprehensiveLord's Prayer. And are all the nations of the earth who cannot pray inEnglish offering God vain petitions? You will find as you grow olderthat no earnest soul ever worships God in vain, and that religion is alife-long work. I am learning something new about it every day. And Ithink God means us to be happy here on earth. He doesn't save all thejoys for heaven. He has given me one, " and he stooped and kissed Dorison the forehead. "Poor Elizabeth, " he added--"make her as happy as youcan!"

When Mrs. King proposed to take Betty to New York for the whole of thecoming winter there was consternation, but no one could find a validobjection. It was a somewhat expensive journey, and winter was a veryenjoyable season in the city. Then another year something new mighthappen to prevent--there was no time like the present. 

No one had the courage to object, though they did not know how to spareher. Aunt Priscilla sighed and brought out some beautiful long-laid-awayarticles that Electa declared would make over admirably. 

"Where do you suppose Aunt Priscilla picked up all these elegantthings?" asked Electa. "I never remember seeing her wear them, thoughshe always dressed well, but severely plain. And Uncle Perkins was quitestrict about the pomps and vanities of the world. "

And so Aunt Priscilla put away the last of her idols and the life shehad coveted and never had. But perhaps the best of all was herconsideration for others, the certainty that it was quite as well tobegin some of the virtues of the heavenly world here on earth that theymight not seem strange to one. 

Mrs. Manning sent in for Elizabeth. 

"Well--you do seem like a different girl, " her father declared, lookingher over from head to foot. "You've had a good rest now, and you'll haveto turn in strong and hearty, for Sarah's gone, and Ruth isn't bigenough to take hold of everything. So hunt up your things while I'mdoing some trading. "

Elizabeth only had time for the very briefest farewells. Mrs. King senta little note containing the doctor's verdict, but Mrs. Manning wasindignant rather than alarmed. 

It was lonesome when they were all gone. Eudora Chapman went to a"finishing school" this autumn, and Doris accompanied her--poor Doris, who had not mastered fractions, and whose written arithmetic could notcompare with Betty's. She had achieved a pair of stockings afterinfinite labor and trouble. They _did_ look rowy, being knit tighter andlooser. But Aunt Priscilla gave her a pair of fine merino that she hadkept from the ravages of the moths. Miss Recompense declared that shehad no one else to knit for. 

There were expert knitters who made beautiful silk stockings, and UncleWinthrop said buying helped along trade, so why should Doris worry whenthere were so many more important matters?

The little girl and her uncle kept track of what was going on in thegreat world. Napoleon the invincible had been driven back from Russia bycold and famine, forced to yield by the great coalition and losing stepby step until he was compelled to accept banishment. Then Englandredoubled her efforts, prepared to carry on the war with us vigorously. Towns on the Chesapeake were plundered and burned, and General Rossentered Washington, from which Congress and the President's family hadfled for their lives. America was again horror stricken, but gatheringall her energies she made such a vigorous defense as to convince herantagonist that though cast down she could never be wholly defeated. 

But this attack gave us the inspiration of one of our finest deathlesssongs. A Mr. Francis S. Key, a resident of Georgetown, had gone downfrom Baltimore with a flag of truce to procure the release of a friendheld as prisoner of war, when the bombardment of Fort McHenry began. Allday long he watched the flag as it floated above the ramparts. Nightcame on and it was still there. And at midnight he could see it only by"the rockets' red glare, " while he and his friends tremulously inquiredif the "flag still waved o'er the Land of the Free. " Oh, what joy musthave been his when it "caught the gleam of the morning's first beam. " Hehad put the night watch and the dawn in a song that is still aninspiration. 

And now convinced, the enemy withdrew. There were talks of peace, thoughwe did not abate our energies. And the indications of a settlementbrought about another wedding at the Royall house. 

Miss Alice had been a great favorite with the young men, and her ardentpatriotism had inspired more than one, as it had Cary Adams, with adesire to rush to his country's defense. There were admirers too, butmost of them had been kept at an intangible distance. At last she hadyielded to the eloquence of young Oliver Sargent, who was in every wayacceptable. Grandmother Royall expected to give her an elegant weddingalong in the winter. 

The Government was to send out another commissioner to consult withthose already at Ghent, and Mr. Sargent had been offered the post ofprivate secretary. He was to sail from New York, but he obtained leaveto spend a few days in Boston to attend to some affairs. He went at onceto Madam Royall and laid his plans before her. He wanted to marry Aliceand take her with him, as he might be gone a long while. Alice wasnothing loath, for the journey abroad was extremely tempting. 

But what could one do in such a few days? And wedding clothes----

"Save the wedding gear until we come back, " said the impatient younglover. "Alice can get clothes enough abroad. "

It was quite a new departure in a wedding. Invitations were always sentout by hand, even for small evening parties, and often verbally given. Aprivate marriage would not have suited old Madam Royall. So the housewas crowded at eleven in the morning, and the bride came through thewide hall in a mulberry-colored satin gown and pelisse that had beenmade two weeks before for ordinary autumn wear. But her bonnet was whitewith long streamers, and her gloves were white, and she made a veryattractive bride, while young Sargent was manly and looked proud enoughfor a king. At twelve they went away with no end of good wishes, and anold slipper was thrown after the carriage. 

Mrs. Morris Winslow had two babies, and was already growing stout. Butthe departure of Alice made a great break. 

"But it is the way of the world and the way of God that young peopleshould marry, " said Madam Royall. "I was very happy myself. "

"Oh, " exclaimed Doris eagerly that evening, her eyes aglow and hercheeks pink with excitement--"oh, Uncle Win, do you think there will bepeace?"

"My little girl, it is my prayer day and night. "

"And then Cary will come home. "

It had been a long while since they had heard. Cary had been transferredfrom the _United States_, that had lain blockaded in a harbor many wearyweeks. But where he was now no one could tell. 

People began to take heart though the fighting had not ceased. And itwas odd that a dozen years before everybody had looked askance atdancing, and now no one hesitated to give a dancing party. Thecontra-dance and cotillions were all the rage. Sometimes there was greatamusement when it was a draw dance, for then you had to accept yourpartner whether or no. 

Whole families went, grandmothers and grandchildren. There were cardsand conversation circles for those who did not care to join the mazywhirls. And the suppers were quite elegant, with brilliant lamps andflowers, plate and glass that had come through generations. Fruits andmelons were preserved as long as possible, and a Turkish band in fineOriental costume was often a feature of the entertainment. 

Doris had charming letters from Betty, a little stilted we should callthem now, but very interesting. Mr. King was confident of peace. Dorisused to read them to Aunt Priscilla, who said Betty was very frivolous, but that she always had a good time, and perhaps good times were not aswicked as people used to think. 

Mrs. Leverett went to Salem in November. Her namesake had taken a coldand had some fever, and she asked for grandmother continually. Mercy didfinely at housekeeping, and so the weeks ran along, the invalid beingbetter, then worse, and just before Christmas the frail little lifefloated out to the Land of Rest. 

"Oh, poor little Elizabeth!" cried Doris. "If she could have been realhappy! But there never seemed any time. Uncle Win, they are not so poorthat they have to work so hard, are they?"

"No, dear. Mr. Manning has money out at interest, besides his handsomefarm. But a great many people think there is solid virtue in working andsaving. I suppose it makes them happy. "

Doris was puzzled. She said the same thing to Aunt Priscilla, who tookoff her glasses, rubbed them with a bit of old silk and wiped the tearsout of her eyes. 

"I think we haven't had quite the right end of it, " she began after apause. "I was brought up that way. But then people had to spin and weavefor themselves, and help the men with the out-of-doors work. Thechildren dropped corn, and potatoes, and there was always weeding. Therewas so much spring work and fall work, and folks couldn't becomfortable if they saw a child playing 'cat's cradle. ' They did thinkSatan was going about continually to catch up idle hands. Well maybe ifI'd had children I'd 'a' done the same way. "

"Oh, you wouldn't, Aunt Priscilla, I know, " said Doris with the sweetestfaith shining in her eyes. "Elizabeth thought you such a comfortable oldlady. She said you never worried at anyone. "

"That is because I have come to believe the worrying wrong. The Lorddidn't worry at people. He told them what to do and then he let themalone. And Foster Leverett was about the best man I ever knew. He didn'teven worry when times were so bad. Everybody said his children would bespoiled. They were out sledding and sliding and skating, and playing tagin summer. They've made nice men and women. "

"Oh, I remember how friendly he looked that day he came on the vessel. And how he said to Captain Grier, 'Is there a little girl for me thathas come from Old Boston?' He might have said something else, you know. 'A little girl for me' was such a sweet welcome, I have never forgottenit. "

"Yes--I was here the night you came. We had been waiting. And the redcloak and big bonnet with the great bow under your chin, and a silkfrock----"

"Did I look very queer?" Doris laughed softly. 

"You looked like a picture, though that wan't my idea of what childrenshould be. "

"Miss Recompense has them put away to keep. I outgrew them, you know. What would you have done with me?"

Aunt Priscilla's pale face wrinkled up and then smoothed out. 

"I've come to the conclusion the Lord knows his business best and iscapable of attending to it. When we meddle we make a rather poor fistof it. Betty has a lot of morning-glories out there, " nodding her head, "and I said to her 'They're poor frail things: why not put out a hopvine or red beans? They can't stand a bit of sun, like Jonah's gourd. 'But she only laughed--her father had that way when he didn't want toargue. When they came to bloom they were sights to behold, like theearly morning when the sun is rising, and you see such beautiful colors. They used to nod to each other and swing back and forth, like peoplecoming to call, then they said good-by and were off. The Lord meant 'emjust to look pretty and they did. "

"Uncle Win likes them so much. Miss Recompense had a whole lattice fullof them. Oh, did you mean I was like a morning glory? Haven't I someother uses?"

"You're always fresh and blossoming every day. That's a use. You come inwith a little greeting that warms one's heart. You were a great delightto Uncle Leverett, and I don't know what Uncle Winthrop would have donewithout you, Cary being away. And how Solomon took to you, when he wasawful shy of strangers! He must have liked you uncommon to be willing tostay in a strange place, for cats cannot bear to be moved about. Maybe'twould been the same if you had not been so pretty to look at, but theLord made you the way he wanted you, and you haven't spoiled yourself abit. "

Doris blushed. Compliments were quite a new thing with Aunt Priscilla. 

"What would you have done with me?" Doris asked again, after a longpause. 

"You won't like to hear it. I ought to confess it because it was a sin, a sort of meddling with the Lord's plans. You see, I'd taken it in myhead that someone would have to give you a home. It didn't seem as ifthat old ma'shland would be good for anything, and I knew your fatherwasn't rich. Winthrop Adams was one of the finicky kind and quite putabout to know what to do with you. So I thought if there didn't anyplace open, for Elizabeth Leverett was quite wrapped up in hergrandchildren, that"--hesitatingly--"when things were straightened out abit, I'd offer----"

"That would have been good of you----"

"No, it wasn't goodness, " interrupted Aunt Priscilla. "I thought Ishould want someone, with Polly getting old. I'd have expected you towork, though I'd have done the fair thing by you, and left you somemoney in the end. I was a little jealous when everybody took to you so. I was sure you'd be spoiled. And, though you've got that music thing andgo among the quality, and are pretty as a pink, and Winthrop Adamsthinks you a nonesuch, you come in here in plain everyday fashion andtalk and read and make it sunshiny for everybody. So, you see, the Lordknew, and it is just as if he said, 'Priscilla Perkins, your way doesn'tsuit at all. There's something in the world besides work and savingmoney. There's room enough in the world for a hill of potatoes and amorning-glory made of silk and dew if it doesn't bloom but just onemorning. It's a smile, and there are others to follow, and it is athousand times better than frowns. '"

"And if there had been no money, and I had wanted a home, would you havegiven me one?" she asked in a soft, tremulous tone. 

"Yes, child. And I couldn't have worked you quite like poor littleElizabeth was worked. I didn't think there _was_ so much money, or thatthat lady in England would have left you a legacy or that Winthrop Adamswould come to believing that he couldn't live without you. "

"Then you were kind to have a plan about it, and I am glad to know it. "

She had been sitting on Aunt Priscilla's footstool, but she rose andtwined her arms about the shrunken neck, and kissed the wrinkledforehead. She saw a homeless little girl going to sheltering care, witha kindly remembrance at the last. Someone else might have thought of theexactions. 

"You make the thing look better than it was, " Aunt Priscilla cried withtrue humility. "But the Lord put you in the right place. "

She saw the mean and selfish desire, the wish to get rid of a faithfulold woman who might prove a burden. It was a sin like the finery she hadlonged for and bought and laid away. She had not worn the finery, shehad not sent away the poor black soul, she had not been a hardtaskmistress to the child, but early training had added the weight ofpossible sins to the actual ones. 

Christmas morning Doris was surprised by a lovely gift. In a small boxby her plate, with best wishes from Uncle Winthrop, lay a watch andchain, a dainty thing with just "Doris" on the plain space in the centerthat overlay another name that had once been there. It had undergonesome renovation at the jeweler's hands, after lying untouched more thantwenty years. Winthrop Adams had kept it for a possible granddaughter, but he knew now no one could cherish it more tenderly than Doris. 

January, 1815, came in. People counted the days. But it was not untilthe middle of February that Boston town was one morning electrified bythe ringing of bells and the shouts of men and boys, who ran along thestreets crying "Peace! Peace! Peace!" Windows were raised; people ranout, so eager were they. Of all glorious words ever uttered none fellwith such music on the air. Could it be true?

Uncle Winthrop put on his surtout with the great fur collar. Then helooked at Doris. 

"Wrap yourself up and come along, " he said huskily. 

Already people were hanging flags out of the windows and stringing themacross the streets. Every sled and sleigh had some sort of banner, ifnothing more than white or brown paper with the five welcome letters, and everybody was shouting. Some men were carrying high banners with thewords in blue or red on a white ground. When they came to State Streetit was impassable. Cornhill was jammed. The _Evening Gazette_ office hadthe announcement, thirty-two hours from New York (there was no telegraphor railroad train then):

 "Sir: I hasten to acquaint you for the information of the public of the arrival here this afternoon of H. Br. M. Sloop of war _Favorite_, in which has come passenger Mr. Carroll, American Messenger, having in his possession A Treaty of Peace. "

They passed that word from the nearest, standing by the bulletin, to thefarther circles, and in five minutes the crowd knew it by heart. On theCommons the drums were beating, the cannons firing, and people shoutingthemselves hoarse. 

Mr. Adams went around to the Royall house, and that looked like a hotelon a gala day, and was nearly as full of people. The treaty had beensigned on Christmas Eve. The President had now to issue a decreesuspending hostilities. But one of the most brilliant battles had beenfought on the 8th of January at New Orleans, under General Jackson--afarewell shot. 

For a week no one could think or talk of anything else. Then theofficial accounts having been received from Washington, there were plansfor a grand procession. An oratorio was given at the Stone Chapel in themorning. Madam Royall had managed to obtain seats for Mr. Winthrop andDoris with her party. The church was crowded. American and Britishofficers in full uniform were side by side, --as happy to be at peace asthe rulers themselves, --chatting cordially with each other. 

The State House was decorated with transparencies, and there were to befireworks in the evening. The procession marched around the Common, withthe different trades drawn on sleds. Printers struck off hand-bills withthe word "Peace!" printed on them and distributed them among the crowd. The carpenters were erecting a Temple of Peace. The papermakers had longstrips of red, white, and blue: every trade had hit upon somesignification of the general joy. 

Uncle Win sent Cato round for Mercy and Warren Leverett to come to tea, and then they went out to see the illumination and the fireworks. OldBoston had suffered a great deal from the war, and her rejoicing was asbroad as her sorrow had been deep. 

As if that was not enough, there was to be a grand Peace Ball. Thegentry did not so often patronize public balls, but this was anexception. Uncle Winthrop procured a ticket for Warren and his wife. Mrs. Gilman was shocked, and Mercy like a modern woman declared she hadnothing to wear. But Aunt Priscilla brought out her last remnant ofgorgeousness, a gray satin that looked very youthful draped with sheerwhite. 

"I feel just as if I was going to be married over again, " Mercy declaredlaughingly; and Warren said she had never looked so beautiful. 

Uncle Winthrop left Doris' adornments to Madam Royall and Mrs. Chapman. She and Eudora had the same kind of gowns--sheer, dotted muslin trimmedwith rows of white satin ribbon, and the bodice with frills of lace andbows of ribbon. 

The hairdresser did her hair in a multitude of puffs and curls that madeher look quite like a young lady. She was still very slim, but growingtall rapidly. In fact, as Uncle Winthrop looked at her he realized thatshe could not always remain a little girl. 

Concert Hall was brilliantly illuminated and decorated with flags andflowers. A platform surrounded the floor, and many people preferred tobe spectators or just join in the march. There were some naval as wellas military officers, and Doris kept a sharp watch, for it almost seemedas if she might come upon Cary. Oh, where would he hear the declarationof peace!

The dancing was quite delightful to most of the young people. Even thosewho just walked about, looked happy, and little knots chatted andsmiled, adding a certain interest to the scene. The supper was veryfine, and after that many of the quality retired, leaving the floor tothose who had come to dance. 

Doris looked bright the next morning as she came to breakfast in herblue flannel frock and lace tucker, and her hair tied up high with a redribbon, which with her white skin "made the American colors, " HelenChapman said. 

"I am glad to get back my little girl, " Uncle Winthrop exclaimed, as heplaced his hands lightly on her shoulders. "You looked strange to melast night. Doris, how tall you are growing!" in half-surprise. 

"That is an Adams trait, Aunt Priscilla would say. And do you rememberthat I am fifteen?"

"Isn't there some way that girls can be set back?" he asked with feignedanxiety. 

"I've heard of their being set back after they reached thirty or forty, "said Miss Recompense. 

"I don't want to wait so long, " returned Uncle Winthrop with a smile. 

"There were some beautiful old ladies there last night, " said Doris. "The one with black velvet and diamonds--Madam Bowdoin. Is that AuntPriscilla's friend?"

"I suppose so. Mr. Perkins was held in high esteem, and Aunt Priscillaused to go about in her carriage then. "

"And Madam Scott! Uncle Win, to think she was John Hancock's wife, andhe signed the Declaration of Independence!"

"And after that I wouldn't have married anybody, " declared MissRecompense with haughty stiffness. 

The enthusiasm did not die out at once. When men or women met they hadto talk over the good news. Warren Leverett declared that business wasreviving. Mercy told Uncle Winthrop that she had never expected to seeso many famous people under such grand conditions as a Peace Ball, andthat it would be something to talk about when she was an old lady. AuntPriscilla listened to the accounts with deep interest. 

"And I looked like a real young lady, " said Doris. "I was frightenedwhen I came to think about it. I would like to stay a little girl foryears and years. But I would not have missed the ball for anything. I donot believe there will ever be such a grand occasion again. "

CHAPTER XXII

CARY ADAMS

It took a good while in those days for the news of peace to go aroundthe world. But there was a general reign of peace. The Europeancountries had mostly settled their difficulties; there was royaltyproper again on the throne of France. Napoleon swept through his hundredbrilliant days, and was banished for life to the rocky isle of St. Helena; the young King of Rome was a virtual prisoner to Austria, andRussia and Prussia began to breathe freely once more. 

The United States had won a standing among the nations. Her indomitablecourage, her successes against tremendous odds, had impressed Europewith her vitality and determination. 

One by one the ships came back to home ports. Mr. Adams and Doriswatched and listened to every bit of news eagerly. 

The old apothecary's shop on Washington Street, to begin a famoushistory a decade later as "The Old Corner Bookstore, " was even then arendezvous for the news of the day. People paused going up and down, andeach one added his bit to the general fund, or took with him theknowledge he was eagerly seeking. 

And when someone said, "Heard from your son yet, Mr. Adams?" he couldonly make a negative gesture. 

"If there isn't some word of Cary Adams soon, his father will never liveto welcome him home, " said Madam Royall to her daughter. "He growsthinner every day. What a perfect Godsend Doris has been!"

Madam Royall was hale and hearty though she had lived through manysorrows. 

The coveted news came first from Betty. She had written a letter to sendby a private messenger, and opened it to add this postscript:

"Mr. Bowen is waiting for this letter. Mr. King has just come in withthe news that two ships have arrived at Portsmouth. Among the officersis 'Lieutenant Cary Adams. ' That is all we know. "

"Oh, Uncle Win!" Doris' eyes swam in tears of joy. "Read Betty'spostscript. " Then she ran out of the room and had a good cry by herself, though why anyone should want to cry over such joyful news she could notquite understand. 

Afterward she tied on her hat and ran over to Madam Royall's and then upto Sudbury Street. For in those days people were wont to say to theirneighbors, "Come, rejoice with me!"

When she returned home the house was very quiet. Solomon came and rubbedagainst her in mute inquiry. No one was in the study. She went out tothe kitchen. 

"Don't disturb your uncle, Doris, " said Miss Recompense. "The news quiteovercame him. He has gone to lie down. "

After dinner she went out again for some lessons. Oh, how bright theworld looked, though it was a day in later March, but the wind had aSouthern softness. Soon the wild flowers would be out. There was a veryinteresting new study, botany, that the previous autumn had taken groupsof girls out in the lanes and fields, and some had ventured to visit theBotanic Gardens at Harvard University. Doris was much interested in it. 

Uncle Winthrop came to supper, and Doris played and sang for him duringthe evening. For though Cary was the uppermost thought in both hearts, they could not talk about him. 

It was a tedious post journey from Washington to Boston. One had topossess one's soul in patience. But the letter came at length. 

Cary had to go to Washington, as there was some prize money and claimsto be inquired into. He had handed in his resignation, and shouldhereafter be a private citizen of dear old Boston. There was much morethat gladdened his father's heart and betrayed a manly spirit. 

Betty returned home, though Mrs. King declared she only lent her for avisit. She was very stylish now, and was studying French, for it mightbe possible that Mr. King would go abroad and take his wife and Betty. 

"I do wonder if you will ever settle down?" exclaimed Mrs. Leverettanxiously. That meant marriage and housekeeping. 

Betty laughed. "You know I have settled to be the old maid aunt, " shereturned. "But I am going to have a good young time first. And, mother, you can hardly realize what a fine, generous, broad-minded man Mat Kinghas made. "

There were lovely odds and ends of attire, dainty slippers, long glovesthat came to your very shoulders, vandyke capes of beautiful lace, buckles that looked like diamonds, ribbons and belts and sashes. Mercysaid Betty could go down to Washington Street and open a fancy-goodsstore. And, oh, the delightful things she had seen and done, the skatingparties in the winter, the sleigh rides when one stopped at a cozy, well-kept tavern and had a dainty supper and a dance. The drives downaround the Battery and Bowling Green, and the promenades. There werestill a good many military men in New York, but it had not suffered asmuch from the war as Boston. 

But Boston was growing beautiful by the hour, with her pretty privategardens and hundreds of fruit trees blooming everywhere, and the greatCommon where people went for walks on sunny afternoons. 

Miss Recompense had a gorgeous tulip bed and some lilies of the valley, which were quite a new thing. Cato trimmed and trained the roses andvines, and the old Adams house was quite a bower of beauty. 

One April afternoon Doris sat by the study window doing some lace work, while Solomon lay curled up on the sill. She kept glancing out. Peoplewere quite given to going around this corner to get into Common Street. She liked to see them. Now and then a friend nodded. Uncle Win had beenreading aloud from "Jerusalem Delivered, " but Doris thought it ratherprosy, and strayed off into her own thoughts. 

A tall, soldierly fellow came up the street, looked, hesitated, openedthe gate softly, and glanced down at the tulips. He was quite imposingas to figure, and his complexion was bronzed, the ends of his brown hairrather long and curling. He was in citizen clothes, and Doris wonderedwhy she should think of Lieutenant Hawthorne. She had expected Cary inall the glory of a naval uniform--a slim, fair, boyish person with alight springy walk. It never could be Cary!

"Oh, Uncle Win, quick!" as the step sounded on the porch. "Itis--someone----" She was so little certain she could not utter a name. 

Uncle Winthrop went out, opened the door, and his son put his arms aboutthe father's neck. If there had been need of words neither could haveuttered them for many minutes. 

When Miss Recompense cleaned house a week or two before the piano hadbeen moved into the parlor. The door stood open so that it could havethe warmth of the hall fire. The two entered it when they had foundtheir voices. 

"It _is_ Cary, " thought Doris with a sense of disappointment, though whyshe could not have told. 

Half an hour afterward they came out to the study. 

"Oh, Doris!" Cary cried, "how you have changed and grown. I shouldn'thave known you! I've been carrying about with me the remembrance of alittle girl. In my mind you have been no taller, no older, and yet Imight have known--why, we shall have to get acquainted all over again. "

Doris blushed. "I am sure I have not changed as much as you. I did notthink it could be you. "

"Someone at Annapolis before we went out designated me as 'Thatconsumptive-looking young fellow. ' But I have grown strong and hearty, and no doubt I shall come to fourscore. I do not mean that it shall beall labor and sorrow, either. "

Then Cary made the rounds of the house. Miss Recompense was as muchamazed as Doris had been. Cato and Dinah were overjoyed. He had hardlydared dream that nothing would be changed, that more than the old lovewould be given back. He had gone away a boy, nurtured in the restraintsof wise Puritanism that made a lasting mark on New England character; hehad come home a man of experience, of deeper thought, of higherunderstanding and stronger affection. He was proud that he had done hisduty as a citizen of the republic, but he knew now that neither naval ormilitary life was to his taste. Henceforth he was to be a son in the oldhome. 

Doris left them talking when she went to bed, a little hurt and jealousthat she was no longer first, that she could not be all to Uncle Win. Itgave her a kind of solitary feeling. 

The old house took on an aspect of intense interest. There was acontinual going and coming and enough congratulations for a weddingfeast. All Cary's friends vied with each other in warm welcomes, andMadam Royall claimed him with the old time cordiality. 

Was there any disappointment about Alice?

He had a boy's thought the first few months about winning glory for her, of coming back to her, and perhaps laying his triumphs at her feet. Butthe real work, the anxieties, the solemn fact of taking one's life inone's hands and realizing how near death might be, had changed him monthby month, until he had only one prayer left--that he might see hisfather again. If she was happy--she surely had her heart's choice--hewas satisfied. They had never really been lovers. 

When the first excitement of welcome was over there were many things tothink about. His interrupted career was one. Governor Gore had beenchosen United States Senator the year before, but he still kept hisoffice, and very kindly greeted the return of his student, offering himstill greater advantages. Here the young Daniel Webster, a lad freshfrom the country, had won the friendship of his master, and after abrief trial in New Hampshire had returned to Boston. 

Boston town began to experience the beneficent power of peace. Languishing industries revived. Commerce had been crippled by the war, but the inhabitants of New England had learned the value of their owningenuity and industry to supply needs, and now they were roused to thefact there was an outside world to supply as well. 

Improvements started up on every side. There was even talk oftransforming the town into a city. Indeed, it had never been a formallyincorporated town. The Court of Assistants one hundred and seventy yearsbefore had changed the name from Tri-Mountain to Boston, and it hadtaken the privileges of a town. But there were many grave questionscoming to the front. 

The family party at the Adams house this year seemed to include half ofBoston. One by one the old relatives had dropped out. Some of theyounger ones had gone to other cities. 

Madam Royall came over to be mistress of ceremonies. For besides theovation to the returned lieutenant, Miss Doris Adams was to be presentedas a full-fledged young lady, and she wore her pretty gown made for thePeace Ball, and pink roses. Miss Betty Leverett was quite a star aswell. Miss Helen Chapman was engaged, and Eudora was a favorite with theyoung gentlemen. 

"I shall be so sorry when they are all gone, " declared Madam Royall. "Ido love young people, but I am afraid my fourth generation will not growup in time for me to enjoy them. You must keep good watch over Dorislest some wolf enters the fold and carries off the sweet child. "

Uncle Win smiled and then looked grave. Doris carried off--oh, no, hecould never spare her!

Cary Adams had not forgotten how to dance, and every girl he asked wasdelighted with the opportunity. It seemed rather queer to Doris toaccept or decline on her own responsibility. 

A week or two later, when they had settled to quite regular living, Carycame out and sat on the step one evening. 

"Doris, " he began, "do you remember the letter I sent you by aLieutenant Hawthorne--that first letter----" What a flood ofremembrances it brought!

"Oh, yes. " She had begun to feel very much at home with Cary--his littlesister, as he called her. "And I must tell you a queer thing--the dayyou came home--when I looked down the path--I thought of him. You hadchanged so. I don't know what sent him to my mind. "

"That was odd. He is in town. He called on me to-day. For the last yearhe has been Captain Hawthorne, and he is a splendid fellow. He has beensent to the Charlestown Navy Yard, and may be here the next threemonths, for now the Government is considering a navy. Well--we did somesplendid fighting with the old ships. But oh, Doris, you can't imaginehow homesick I was. I had half a mind to show the white feather andcome home. "

"Oh, you couldn't have done it, Cary!"

"No, I couldn't when it came to the pinch. But if I had gone withfather's consent! I understood then what it would be never to see himagain. I think I shall be a better son all my life for the lesson. "

"Yes, " in her gentle approving fashion. 

"Hawthorne wants to come over here, " Cary said presently. "I think myfather would like him, though I notice he has an aversion to military ornaval men. But I shall never go away again unless the country is ingreat danger. "

"I should like to see him. I wonder if he has changed as much as you?"

"I think not, " and Cary laughed. "He was twenty-four then, and sort ofsettled into manhood, while I was a rather green stripling. "

"You are losing some of the 'sea tan, ' as Madam Royall calls it. I amglad of it. I like you best fair. "

"Captain Hawthorne is a very handsome man. I ought to feel flattered tobe mistaken for him. "

"Is he?" returned Doris simply. 

"Don't you remember him?"

"I remember that he asked me for a rose and I gave it to him. It was thelast one on the bush. I was so glad to get the letter I couldn't thinkof anything else. "

So Cary brought him over to tea one afternoon. Doris noted then that hewas extremely good-looking and very entertaining. Besides, he had a finetenor voice and they sang songs together. 

Uncle Winthrop was troubled at first. Captain Hawthorne's enthusiasm forhis profession was so ardent that Mr. Adams was alarmed lest it mightturn Cary's thoughts seaward again. But he found presently that Cary'senlisting had been that of a patriotic, high-spirited boy, and that hehad no real desire for the life. 

What a summer it was! Betty was over often, Eudora was enchanted withthe Adams house, and there was a bevy of girls who brought their sewingand spent the afternoon on the stoop. Sometimes Uncle Win came out andread to them. There were several new English poets. A Lord Byron waswriting the cantos of a beautiful and stirring poem entitled "ChildeHarold" that abounded in fine descriptions. There were "The Lady ol theLake" and "Marmion, " and there was a queer Scotchy poet by the name ofBurns, who had a dry wit--and few could master the tongue. A wholeharvest of delight was coming over from England. 

There were so many curious and lovely places within a few hours sail ordrive. Captain Hawthorne had spent most of his life in Maryland, andthis scenery was new. They made up parties for the day, or Betty, Doris, and Uncle Winthrop and the captain went in a quartette. 

"I don't know, " Uncle Win said one day with a grave shake of the head. "Do you not think I am rather an old fellow to go careering round withyou young people?"

"But, you see, someone would have to go, " explained Doris. "Young ladiescan't go out with a young man alone. It would have to be Aunt Elizabeth, or Mrs. Chapman, and I would so much rather have you. It's nice to bejust by ourselves. "

"The captain seems to like Betty very much. "

"Indeed he does, " answered Doris warmly. 

Occasionally Cary would get off and join them. But he was trying hard tocatch up. He had gotten out of study habits, and some days he found itquite irksome, for he was fond of pleasure, and it seemed to him thatBetty was extremely charming, and Doris quaint, and Eudora vivacious tothe point of wit. 

One warm August afternoon he sat alone, having resolved to master aknotty point. What were the others doing? he wondered. 

There was a step, and he glanced up. 

"Oh, " nodding to Captain Hawthorne, "I was just envying you and all theothers, and wondering where you were on pleasure bound. "

"It was not pleasure, but hard work over at the yard to-day. However, Ihave the evening, and feel like inviting myself to partake of a cup ofthe comforting tea Miss Recompense brews. "

"Come along then. I have put in a good day and am conscience-clear. "

Cary began to pile up his books. 

"I have only about a fortnight more, " Captain Hawthorne said slowly. 

Cary changed his coat and locked his desk. "Well?" as the caller waswatching him earnestly. 

"Adams, do you mean--do you expect to marry your cousin?" Hawthorneasked abruptly. 

"My cousin? Betty or Doris?"

"Doris. "

"Why--no, I never thought of it. And I have a sight of work to do beforeI marry. "

"Then--I suppose you never suspected such a thing--but I am in love withher. "

"In love with Doris! Why, she's just a child. "

"I dare say I shall have to serve seven years before I can get yourfather's consent. She will be older then. I was listening to a romanticstory about an old house where a handsome girl leaned out of a windowand her beauty attracted an English officer passing by, who said tohimself that was the one woman for him, and long afterward he went back, found her, and married her. "

"A handsome Miss Sheafe. Yes. " Cary smiled. 

"See here, Cary Adams. " Hawthorne took a small leather case out of hispocket. Between two cards was a pressed rose. "When I took your packetto Miss Doris Adams almost four years ago, I gave it into the hands ofthe sweetest little girl I ever saw. If I had been less of a gentleman Imust have kissed her. I espied one rose in the garden and asked her forit. This is the rose she gave me. I meant to come North and find her, and when I asked for leave of absence to visit Boston this business wasput in my charge. Then I said, 'I will look up the little girl, who mustbe a large girl now, and woo her with the sincerest regard. ' It shall gohard indeed with me if I cannot win her. But I have fancied of late thatyou----"

"She is very dear to me and to my father. But I had not thought----"

"Then I take my chances. As I said, I will wait for her. She is stillvery young, and I should feel conscience-smitten to rob your father. Sometime you may want to bring the woman you love to the old home, andthen it will not be so hard. I could keep true to her the whole worldover; and if she promises, she will keep true to me. "

Cary Adams was deeply moved. Such devotion ought to win a reward. Howblind he and his father had been, thinking of Betty Leverett. 

Oh, how could they let Doris go! Yet a lover like this was not to becurtly refused. 

"I shall not stand in your way, " quietly. 

"Thank you a thousand times. But if she had been for you, as I feared, Ishould have proved man enough to keep silent and go my way. It has beena happy summer, and in two weeks more it will end. Still, I may be ableto get an appointment here. I shall try for it and return. "

"Come, " said Cary Adams, and he went out feeling there had been a greatchange in the world, and he was wrapped about with some mysteriousinfluence. 

Doris had thought of Captain Hawthorne on the day of his, Cary's, return. How many times besides had she thought of him? And she hadrecalled giving him the rose. 

CHAPTER XXIII

THE COST OF WOMANHOOD

A happy fortnight. It was worth all the after-pain to have it toremember. When Boston was a great city half a century later, and therehad been another war, and Captain Hawthorne had risen in the ranks andbeen put on the retired list, he came a grizzled old man to find theplace that had always lived in his remembrance. But the old house hadbeen swept away by the march of improvement, the rounding cornerstraightened and given over to business, and the Common was magnificentin beauty. The tall, thin, scholarly man had gone to the wife of hisyouth. Doris, little Doris, was very happy. So what did it matter?

There was a succession of lovely days. One morning, early, CaptainHawthorne joined Doris and her uncle in a long ride over on Boston Neck. They found an odd old tavern kept by a sailor who had been round theworld and taken a hand in the "scrimmage, " as he called it, and with hissmall prize money bought out the place. There was some delightful breadand cold chicken, wine and bottled cider equal to champagne. There wasanother long lovely day when with Betty they went up to Salem and drovearound the quaint streets and watched the signs of awakening business. There was Fort Pickering, the lighthouse out on the island, the prettyCommon, the East India Marine Society's hall with its curiosities (quitewonderful even then), and the clean streets with their tidy shops, thechildren coming from school, the housewives going about on errands. Foster Manning drove his grandmother down to join them; and he wasalmost a young man now. He told Doris they all missed Elizabeth so much, but he was glad she had had that nice visit to Boston. 

So the days drifted on; Doris unconsciously sweet in her simplicity, yetso innocent that the lover began to fear while he hoped. 

Uncle Winthrop had gone to a meeting of the Historical Society. MissRecompense had a neighbor in great trouble that she was trying toconsole out in the supper room, where they could talk unreservedly. Carywas in the study, and the two were sauntering around the fragrant walkswhere the grassy beds had recently been cut. There was no moon, and thewhole world seemed soft and still, as if it was listening to the storyCaptain Hawthorne had to tell, as if it was in love with itself. 

"Oh, " interrupted Doris with a sharp, pained cry, "do not, please donot! I never dreamed--I--shall never go away from Uncle Winthrop. I donot want any other love. I thought it was--Betty. Oh, forgive me for thepain and disappointment. I seem even to myself such a little girl----"

"But I can wait years. I wanted you to know. Oh, Doris, as the years goon can you not learn to love me? I will be patient and live in thesweet, grand hope that some day----"

"No, no; do not hope. I cannot promise. Oh, you are so noble andupright, can you not accept this truth from me? For it would only bepain and disappointment in the end. "

No, she did not love him. Her sweet soul was still asleep within herfair body. He was too really honorable to persist. 

"Doris, " he said, --what a sweet girl's name it was!--"five years fromthis time I shall come back. You will be a woman then, you are still achild. And if no other lover has won you, I shall ask again. "

He pressed her hand to his lips. Then he led her around to the porch, and bade her a tender good-night. He would not embarrass her by anylonger stay. 

She ran up the steps. Cary intercepted her in the hall. 

"Has he gone? Doris----"

"Oh, _did_ you know? How could you let him!" she cried in anguish. "Howcould you!"

"Doris--my dear little sister, he loved you so. But I wish it had beenBetty. Oh, don't cry. You have done nothing. I am sorry, but he wouldnot have been satisfied if he had not spoken. He wanted to ask fatherfirst, but I hated to have _him_ pained if it was not necessary----"

"Thank you for that, Cary. Do not tell him. You will not?" she pleaded, thinking of the other first. 

"No, dear. We must shield him all we can. "

Yes, they would try always. There was a little rift in the cloud ofpain. 

The next evening Captain Hawthorne came over to bid them a formalgood-by. Helen Chapman and her lover and Eudora were there, so it was anunembarrassing affair with many good wishes on both sides. 

Doris thought she would like to run away and hide. It seemed as if thewhole story was written in her face. Betty suspected, but she loved hertoo well to tease. And almost immediately Helen announced herarrangements. She was to be married in October. Doris and Cary muststand with her, and one of the Chapman cousins with Eudora. Another warmgirl friend and her lover would complete the party. Grandmamma hadstipulated that Mr. Harrison Gray should cast in his lot with them for ayear. Mr. Sargent had been attached to the embassy at London and theywould remain two years longer at least. Madam Royall could not bear tohave the family shrink so rapidly. 

Betty was to go away again. Mr. And Mrs. Matthias King came togetherthis time to see old friends and Boston, that Mr. King found wonderfullychanged. He was to go to France on business for the firm of which he wasa member, and be absent a year at least. It would be such a splendidchance for Betty. They were to take their own little Bessy and leave thethree younger children with a friend who had a school for small peopleand who would give them a mother's care. 

There was a little grandson in Sudbury Street, and Mercy had proved avery agreeable daughter-in-law. Warren had begun to prosper again, andwas full of hope. The children at Hollis Leverett's were growingrapidly. They no longer said "little Sam. " He was almost a young man. Hehad taken the Franklin prize at the Latin School and was now apprenticedto an architect and builder, and would set up for himself when he cameof age, as Boston had begun to build up rapidly. But he couldn't helpenvying Cousin Cary Adams his prize money and wondering what he meant todo with it. 

An invitation to go to Paris was not to be lightly declined then, anymore than it would be now. Mrs. Manning did not see "how Betty couldleave mother for so long, " but Mrs. Leverett was in good health, andthough she hated to have her go so far away, there really could be noobjection, when Matthias King was so generous. 

"I am going to have some of my good times while we are together and ableto enjoy them, " he said to Mrs. Leverett. "I shall have to leave Electaalone every now and then while I am about business, and it will be sucha comfort to her to have Betty. No doubt, we shall marry her to a Frenchcount. "

"Oh, no, bring her back to me, " said Betty's mother. 

There was quite a stir among Betty's compeers. She was congratulated andenvied, and they begged her to write everything she could about Frenchfashions. How lucky that she had been studying French!

Aunt Priscilla had a hard struggle with conscience about a matter thatshe felt to be quite a duty. Giving away finery that you would neverwear was one thing, but your money was quite another. 

"Betty, " she said, "I'm going to make you a little gift. If youshouldn't want to use it maybe Mat will see some way to invest it foryou. When the trouble came to Warren, I said he might as well have hispart as to wait until I was dead and gone. I have been paid over andover again in comfort. He grows so much like your father, Betty. Andhe's weathered through the storm and stress. So I'll do the same by you, and if you never get any more you must be content. "

It was an order for five hundred dollars. Winthrop Adams would see itpaid. 

Betty was quite overwhelmed. "I ought to give half of it to mother!" shecried. 

"No, no. Your mother will have all she needs. The Mannings would borrowit of her to buy more ground with. I've no patience with all theirscrimping, and sometimes I give thanks that poor Elizabeth is out of itall. Don't have an anxious thought about money where you mother isconcerned. "

"What a comfort you are, Aunt Priscilla. "

"Well, it took years enough to teach me that anybody needed comforting. "

As for Doris, she was so busy that she could hardly think about herselfor Captain Hawthorne. She did wish he had not loved her. If she hadknown about the rose her heart would have been still more sore andpitiful. 

Betty went before the wedding. They took a sloop to New York and were toleave there for Havre. 

Madam Royall had this wedding just to her fancy, and it was quite a fineaffair. Cary looked very nice, Doris thought, for the sea tan had nearlyall bleached out. His figure was compact, and he had a rather soldierlybearing. He was quite a hero, too, to his old college mates, some ofwhom had not considered him possessed of really strong characteristics. 

But the young ladies were proud of his notice and attention, and therewas no end of invitations from their mothers when they were going tohave evening companies. 

The cold weather came on apace. Mr. Adams seemed to feel it more andgave up his horseback rides. He interested himself very much in thelibrary plans, but he grew fonder of staying at home, and Doris was sucha pleasant companion. Cary had never been fond of poetry, and now hethrew himself into his profession with a resolve to stand high. Manhood's ambition was so different from the lukewarm endeavors of theboy. 

His father did enjoy his earnestness very much. Sometimes he rousedhimself to argue a point when two or three young men dropped in, and theold fire flashed up, though he liked best his ease and his poets, orDoris reading or singing some old song. But he did not lose his interestin the world's progress or that of his beloved city. 

Doris was very happy in a young girl's way. One did not expect to fillevery moment with pleasure, or go to parties or the theater everyevening. There were other duties and purposes to life. As Aunt Priscilladid not go out after the cold weather set in, she ran up there nearlyevery day with some cheerful bit of gossip. Madam Royall had grown veryfond of her as well. There was the dancing class; and the sewing class, when they made garments for poor people; and shopping--even if one didnot buy much, for now such pretty French and English goods were shownagain. Then one stopped in the confectioner's on Newberry Street and hada cup of hot coffee or tea if it was a cold day; or strolled downCornhill to see what new books had come over from London, for theWaverley novels had just begun, and everybody was wondering about theauthor. Or you went to Faneuil Hall to see Trumbull's Declaration ofIndependence, which was considered a very remarkable work. There werethe sleigh-rides, when you went out in style and had a supper and adance; and the sledding parties, that were really the most fun of all, when you almost forgot you were grown-up. 

Cary was always ready to attend his cousin, though she quite as oftenwent out with Mr. And Mrs. Gray and Eudora. When he thought of it, itdid seem a little curious that Doris had no special company. 

But a girl was not allowed to keep special company until the family hadconsented and she was regularly engaged. Young men and girls came tosing, for a piano was a rarity; there were parties going here and there, but Doris never evinced any particular preference. 

So spring came again and gardening engrossed Doris. She had beenlearning housekeeping in all its branches under the experienced tuitionof Miss Recompense and Dinah. A girl who did not know everything fromthe roasting of a turkey to the making of sack-posset, and through allthe gradations of pickling and preserving, was not considered"finished. "

Doris was very fond of the wide out-of-doors. She often took her work, and Uncle Winthrop his book, and sat out on a rustic seat at the edge ofthe Common, which was beginning to be beautiful, though it was twentyyears later that the Botanic Garden was started. But now that our shipswere going everywhere, curious bulbs and plants were brought fromHolland and from the East Indies by sea captains. And they foundwonderful wild flowers that developed under cultivation. Brookline was agreat resort on pleasant days, with its meadows and wooded hillsides andbeautiful gardens. Colonel Perkins had all manner of foreign fruits andflowers that he had brought home from abroad, and had a greenhouse whereyou could often find the grandmother of the family, who was mostgenerous in her gifts. There were people who thought you "flew in theface of Providence" when you made flowers bloom in winter, butProvidence seemed to smile on them. 

Over on the Foster estate at Cambridge there was a genuine hawthorn. People made pilgrimages to see it when it was white with bloom anddiffusing its peculiar odor all about. There were the sweet blossoms ofthe mulberry and the honey locust, and the air everywhere was fragrant, for there were so few factories, and people had not learned to turnwaste materials into every sort of product and make vile smells. 

Cary sometimes left his books early in the afternoon and went drivingwith them. If he did not appreciate poetry so much, he was on thelookout for every fine tree and curious flower, and twenty years laterhe was deep in the Horticultural Society. 

Uncle Winthrop bought a new low carriage this summer. For anyone elsebut a grave gentleman it would have looked rather pronounced, but it wasso much easier to get in and out. And Doris in her sweet unconsciousnessnever made any bid for attention, but people would turn and look at themas one looks at a picture. 

Thirty years or so afterward old ladies would sometimes say to thedaughters of Doris:

"My dear, I knew your mother when she was a sweet, fresh young girl andused to go out driving with her uncle. Mr. Winthrop Adams was one of thehigh-bred, delicate-looking men that would have graced a court. Therewasn't a prettier sight in Boston--and, dear me! that was way back in'16 or '17. How time flies!"

They heard from Betty occasionally. The letters were long and "writfine, " though happily not crossed. They should have been saved for abook, they were so chatty. In August one came to Doris that stirred up amighty excitement. Betty had a way of being quite dramatic and leadingup to a climax. 

A month before they had met a delightful Frenchman, a M. Henri de laMaur, twenty-five or thereabouts, and found him an excellent cicerone tosome remarkable things they had not seen. He was much interested inAmerica and its chief cities, especially Boston, when he found that wasBetty's native town. 

And one day he told them of a search he had been making for a littlegirl. The De la Maurs had suffered considerably under the Napoleonic_régime_, and had now been restored to some of their rights. There wasone estate that could not be settled until they found a missing member. They had traced the mother, who had died and left a husband and a littlegirl--Jacqueline. "That is such a common name in France, " explainedBetty. She had been placed in a convent, and that was such a commonoccurrence, too. Then she had been taken to the North of England. He hadgone to the old town, but the child's father had died and some elderlyrelatives had passed away, and the child herself had been sent to theUnited States. Everybody who had known her was dead or had forgotten. 

"And I never thought until one day he said Old Boston, " confessed Betty, "when I remembered suddenly that your mother's name was Jacqueline Mariede la Maur in the old marriage certificate. We had been talking of it aweek or more, but one hears so many family stories here in Paris, andlost and found inheritances. But I almost screamed with surprise, andadded the sequel; and he was just overjoyed, and brought the familypapers. He and your mother are second- and third-cousins. It is queeryou should have so many far-off relations, and so few near-by ones, andbe mixed up in so many romances. 

"The fortune sounds quite grand in francs, but if we enumerated ourmoney by quarters of dollars, we might all be rich. It is a snug littlesum, however, and they are anxious to get it settled before the nextturn in the dynasty, lest it might be confiscated again. So M. Henri iscoming home with us, and we shall start the first day of September, asMr. King has finished his business and Electa is wild to see herchildren. I think I shall give 'talks' all winter and invite you over toSudbury Street, with your sewing, for I never shall be talked out. "

It was wonderful. Doris had to read the letter over and over. It hadlisteners at the Royall house who said it was a perfect romance, and atthe Leveretts' they rejoiced greatly. 

"I declare!" exclaimed Aunt Priscilla, "if you should live to be fiftyor sixty, and everybody go on leaving you fortunes, you won't know whatto do with your money. They're filling up the Mill Pond and the bigma'sh and going to lay out streets. I wouldn't have believed it! FosterLeverett held on to his legacy because he couldn't sell it, and nowWarren has been offered a good sum. Mary Manning will pinch herself blueto think she sold out when she did. I'm just glad for Warren. AndCary'll know so much law that he will look out for you. "

It was a beautiful autumn, for a wonder. Summer seemed loath to departor allow the flame-colored finger of Fall to place her seal on theglowing foliage. But it was the last of October when Betty reachedBoston, convoyed by a very old-time New England woman going on toNewburyport. 

"For you know, " said Betty, "the French are very particular about ayoung woman traveling alone, but we did have a hunt to find someonecoming to Boston. Otherwise M'sieur Henri--you see how apt I am inFrench--could not have accompanied me. "

M. De la Maur was a very nice-looking young man, not as tall as Cary, but with a graceful and manly figure, soft dark eyes, and hair that justmissed being black, a clear complexion and fine color, and a small lineof mustache. As to manners he was really charming, and so well-read thatMr. Winthrop Adams took to him at once. He was conversant with Voltaireand Rousseau, the plays of Racine and Molière, and the causes that hadled to the French Revolution, and had been in Paris through the famous"Hundred Days. " Of course he was bitter against Napoleon. 

The inheritance part was soon settled. Doris would have about threethousand dollars. But De la Maur took a great fancy to Boston, and theRoyall family approved of him. Mr. And Mrs. Sargent had returned thisfall and the old house was a center of attractive gayeties. 

"Do you know, I think Cousin Henri is in love with Betty, " said Doris, with a feminine habit of guessing at love matters. "But she insists shewill never live abroad, and Cousin Henri thinks Paris is the center ofthe world. "

"How will they manage?"

Doris laughed. She did not just see herself. 

But Betty's romance came to light presently. It had begun during herwinter in New York, but it had not run smoothly. Betty had a ratherquick wit and was fond of teasing, and there had been "differences" noteasily settled. Mr. Harman Gaynor had risen to the distinction of apartnership in the King firm, and on meeting Betty again, with the youngFrenchman at her elbow, had presented his claim in such a way that Bettyyielded. When Mr. Gaynor came to Boston to have a conference with Mrs. Leverett--for fathers and mothers still had authority in suchmatters--Betty's engagement was announced and the marriage set forspring. 

Somehow it was a delightful winter. But after a little one person beganto feel strangely apprehensive, and this was Cary Adams. 

"I suppose Doris and her third- or fourth-cousin will make a match?"Madam Royall said one evening when they had been playing morris and shehad won the rubber. "How can you let her go away?"

"She will never leave father, " exclaimed Cary confidently. 

There was a sudden stricture all over his body. It seemed as if somecold hand had clutched both heart and brain. 

He walked home in the bright, fresh air. It was barely ten. He passed Dela Maur on the way and they greeted each other. The parlor windows weredarkened, his father was alone in the study, and everyone else had goneto bed. 

"I wish you had been home, " said his father glancing up. "De la Maur hasbeen reciting Racine, and I have never heard anything finer! I wish hecould read Shakspere. He certainly is a delightful person, so culturedand appreciative. It makes me feel that we really are a new people. "

Could no one see the danger? How happened it his father was so blind?Did Doris really care? She had not loved Captain Hawthorne, a man worthyof any woman's love. Cary had a confident feeling that in five yearsthey would see him again. But he would be too old for Doris--thirteenyears between them. Yet his father had been fifteen years older than hismother. Doris was so guileless, so simply honest, and if she loved--howcuriously she had kept from friendships or intimacies with young men!Eudora had a train of admirers. So had Helen and Alice in their day. 

When he had met Mrs. Sargent he knew it had only been a boyish fancy forAlice Royall, and it had merely shaped and strengthened the ardentdesire of youth to go to his country's defense. He was a man now, andcapable of loving with supreme tenderness and strength. Yet he had seenno woman to whom he cared to pour out the first sweet draught of a man'sregard. 

But Doris must not go away, she could not. 

Morning, noon, and night he watched her. She prepared his father'stoast, she chatted with him and often coaxed him to taste this or that, for his appetite was slender. On sunny mornings they went to drive, orif not she brought her sewing and sat in the study, listened anddiscussed the subjects he loved, and was enthusiastic about the Bostonthat was to be, that they both saw with the eye of faith. While he tookhis siesta she ran up to Sudbury Street, or did an errand. Later in theafternoon there would be calls. There was a sideboard at the end of thehall where a bottle or two of wine were kept, as was the custom then, and a plate of cake. 

Doris brought in a fashion of offering tea or sometimes mulled cider ona cold day. But Miss Recompense made delicious tea, and some of thegentlemen took it just to see Doris drop in the lump of sugar sodaintily. 

If they were at home there was always company in the evening, unless thenight was very stormy. De la Maur generally made one of the guests. Ifthey were alone they had a charming evening in the study. 

The young Frenchman was most punctilious. He might take a few cousinlyfreedoms, but he never offered any that were lover-like. So it was themore easy for Doris to persuade herself that it was merely relationship. Occasionally the eloquence of his eyes quite unnerved her. She cunninglysheltered herself beside Eudora when it was possible. 

But De la Maur's regard grew apace. It would not be honorable to comewithout declaring his intentions. And the American fashion of beingengaged was extremely fascinating to him. He wanted the more thancousinly privileges. 

So it happened one night Betty and Warren came over with a piece ofmusic Mrs. King had sent, a song by Moore, the Irish poet. Doris went tothe parlor to try it. That was De la Maur's golden opportunity, and hecould not allow it to slip. In a most deferential manner he laid hiscase before her relative and guardian and begged permission to addressMiss Doris. 

Winthrop Adams was utterly amazed at the first moment. Then he recoveredhimself. Doris _was_ a young lady. One friend and another was beinggiven in marriage, and Doris naturally would have lovers. There was onethat he had hoped--but he had never seen any real indication. 

"It is true that I like my own Paris best, but if Miss Doris longed tostay here a few years, I would make myself content. But you willunderstand--I could not come any longer without explaining; and thistime you allow young people--betrothment--looks so attractive. May I askand learn her sentiments, since young ladies choose for themselves?"

What could he do but consent? If Doris should not love him----

"Good-night Uncle Win, " cried Betty from the hall. "Good-night, M. De laMaur. "

Doris was replacing some music in the portfolio. Cousin Henri crossedthe room and she saw a mysterious sweetness in his face as he took herhand. 

"_Ma chère amie_ Cousin Doris, I have just explained to your uncle mysentiments concerning you, and have his permission to ask for yourregard. I love you very dearly. Will you be my wife?"

Doris drew her hand away and was pale and red by turns, while her throatconstricted and her breath came in great bounds. 

"I am so sorry. I tried not to be--I did not want anything like this tohappen--but sometimes I felt afraid, " she stammered in herembarrassment. "I like you very much. But I do not want to marry or tobe engaged. I shall stay with my uncle. I shall never go away from thecountry of my adoption. "

"But if I were willing to remain a while--so long as your uncle lived? Ido not wonder you love him very much. He is a charming gentleman. I haveno parents to bid me stay at home, I need consult only you and myself. "

"Oh, no, no! Do not compel me to pain you by continued refusals. Icannot consent. I will always be friend and cousin--I do not loveanyone----"

"Then if you do not love anyone this friendship might ripen into a sweetregard. Oh, Doris, I had hardly thought so deep a love possible. "

His imploring tone touched her. But she drew back farther and said in amore decisive tone: "Oh, no, no! I cannot promise. "

He was too gentlemanly to persist in his pleading. But he was confidenthe had Mr. Adams on his side. And at home the desires of parents andguardians counted for a great deal. 

"My dear cousin, will you talk this matter over with your uncle? You maylook at it in a different light. And I shall remain your ardent admireruntil I am convinced. Since you have no lover----"

Doris Adams suddenly straightened her pliant young figure. Some dignitywas born in her face and in the clear eyes she raised, too pure to doubtanything or to fear anything, sure for a moment that she possessed everypulse and thought and knowledge of her own soul, then beset by a strangeshadowy misgiving that she had reached a curious crisis in her life thatshe did not know of an instant ago. 

But she said bravely, though there was a quiver in her breath that shetried to keep from her voice:

"Let us remain cousins merely. My duty is here. My love is herealso--to the best of fathers, the tenderest of friends. I cannot shareit with anyone. "

De la Maur bowed and went slowly out of the apartment. 

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BLOOM OF LIFE--LOVE

Doris flew to the study. Uncle Winthrop's eyes were bent on his book andhis face partly turned aside. He had been making a brave fight. A man ofa less fine strain of honor would not have answered the brave younglover as he had done. He could not have answered him thus if he had notliked Henri de la Maur so well, and loved Doris with such singleness ofheart. 

He heard her step and put out his hand without moving. His tone was verylow. 

"Is it--France?"

"France! Oh, Uncle Win! When I belong to you and Boston?"

Her arms were around his neck. His heart, his whole body, seemed to giveone great throb of joy as he drew her down to his knee. There had beenonly one other experience in life as sweet. 

"And you would have sent me away!" with a soft, broken upbraiding inwhich love was uppermost. 

"No, child, no. God forbid, Doris, now that you are _not_ going, I willconfess--I think I should have died before the parting came. But, mylittle girl, I must say this in memory of two sweet years of weddedlife--there is no happiness comparable to it. And to accept your youth, your golden period that never dawns but once on any human being, togladden my declining years would be a selfish sin. I once had adream--but it came to naught"--he drew a long breath as if theremembrance pained him. "You must be quite free, dear, to love and tomarry. All these years with you have been so precious, but sometime Ishall go my way, and I could not bear the thought of your being leftalone!"

"I shall stay with you. I--there can never be any home like this--anylove like yours----"

The hall door opened and shut slowly. That was Cary's step. She couldnot meet him here. She kissed Uncle Win vehemently and flashed past theyoung man standing there almost in the doorway with a white, strainedface. The great armchair was in her way and she half stumbled over it. Then some other arms caught her and she had no strength to struggle. Didshe want to?

"Doris! Doris! Was it true what you said just now--that no home could belike this, and your love for him, which has been that of a tenderdaughter--his love for you--is there room for another regard still? for, Doris, I love you! I want you. I have been wild and jealous since I havesuspected, since I have really known or guessed your cousin'sintentions. I did not suspect at first--there were Betty and Eudora--andan old regard waiting for you, but now I can think of only one thing, that has been in my mind day and night for the last fortnight, that Ilove you as well as the others; only it seems a small and ignoble matterto appeal to your affection for my father and the old home. But I wantyour love, your sweetness, your precious faith, the trust of your comingwomanhood, your own sweet self. I'm not a handsome fellow like CaptainHawthorne, nor accomplished like De la Maur, but I shall love you to mylife's end, Doris!"

They sat down on the step of the old staircase and he could feel thetremble in every pulse of her slim young figure. Was it the strangemystery that had come to her half an hour ago in the parlor opposite, asomething that was not knowledge, but a vague consciousness that therewas a person in the world who could say the words that would thrill herwith delight instead of bringing sorrow and regret!

"All that is a very illogical and incoherent presentation. I must dobetter when I come to argue my first case, " and he gave a joyous littlelaugh. For he knew if Doris meant to say him "Nay, " she would not lether head droop on his shoulder, or yield to the clasp of his arm. Andsuddenly his soul was filled with infinite pity for Hawthorne, and--yes--he felt sorry for De la Maur. 

"Doris--is it a little for my own sake?"

A breath of happy content swept over her like a summer wind coming fromsome mysterious world. 

"You have been an angel of comfort to both of us. I don't know what Ishould have done in that unhappy time if it had not been for you. ButHawthorne's regard made it a point of honor with me. Could you haveloved him, Doris? He is such a fine fellow. "

He noted the little shrinking, he was holding her so close. 

"Not in that way, " and her reply was a soft whisper. 

"Thank Heaven! But I want to hear you say--oh, my darling, I want theassurance that I shall be dear to you, that it is not all because----"

"I should stay for Uncle Win's sake. I think Miss Recompense finds agreat many sources of happiness in a single life. But if I promised you, it would be because--because--I loved you. "

"Then promise me, " he cried enraptured. "I love you dearly, if I haven'tbeen much of a lover. I have said to myself that I was waiting forHawthorne's five years to end, or to do something worthy of you. Andnow, Doris, I know what fighting means, and I would fight to the deathfor you. I am afraid I shall be selfish and exigent to the last degree. "

He felt the delicate revelation in the warmth of her cheek, the trembleof the soft hands, the relaxation of her whole body. And a kind ofsolemn exultation filled his soul. Except the youthful episode withAlice Royall, he had never sincerely cared for any woman, and he wasvery glad he could give Doris the first offering of a man's love as heunderstood it now. 

And then for a long while neither spoke, except in kisses--love's ownlanguage. Every moment the mystery seemed to grow upon Doris, to unfoldas well, to pass the line of girlhood, to accept the crown of a woman'slife. It had been very simply sweet. Some other woman might have made arather tragic episode of her two lovers. Doris pitied them sincerely, but they both had the deepest sympathy from Cary Adams. 

"Let us go to him, " Cary exclaimed presently, rising, with his arm stillabout her. 

There were two wax candles burning in their sconces that had been madeover forty years ago in Paul Revere's foundry. By the softened lightCary glanced at the flushed face, downcast eyes and dewy, tremulouslips. Half the sweet story was still untold, but there would be yearsand years. Oh, Heaven grant they might have them together! And at thisinstant he was filled with a profound sympathy for his father's loss andlonely life. 

They walked slowly through the hall and paused a moment in the doorway. Winthrop Adams was leaning his head on his hand, and the lamp a littleat the side threw up his thin, finely cut features, as if they had beendone in marble, and he was almost as pale. The exultation went out ofthe soul of the young lover, and a rush of tenderness such as he hadnever experienced before swept through him. 

"Father, " he said softly, touching him on the shoulder, "father--willyou give me Doris, for your claim is first? Will you accept me as herlover, sometime to be her husband, always to be your son, and yourdaughter?"

Winthrop Adams rose half-bewildered. Had the secret hope of his soulunfolded in blessed fruition? He looked from one to the other, then hisglance rested on his son--their eyes met, and in that instant they cameto know each other as they never had before, to understand, tocomprehend all that was in the tie of nature. He laid one hand on hisson's shoulder, the other clasped the slim virginal figure, no longer alittle girl, but whose girlhood and affectionate devotion would alwaysfill both hearts. 

"Doris, my child--you are quite sure----" He could not have his sondefrauded of any sweetness. 

Doris raised her downcast eyes and smiled, while the pink flush was likea rosy gleam of sunrise. Then she laid her hand over both of the others'in a tender, caressing fashion. But she was too deeply moved for words. 

Winthrop Adams kissed her fair brow, but her lover kissed her on thesweet, rosy lips. 

They announced the engagement almost at once. It was done partly for Dela Maur's sake, though after the first he took it quite philosophically. There were three people supremely happy over it. Miss Recompense, MadamRoyall, --who declared she would have been disappointed in Providence ifit had been any other way, --and Cousin Betty, who was happy as a queenin her own life, though why we should make royalty a synonym forhappiness I do not know. 

"You never could have left Uncle Win, " wrote Betty, "and Cary could nothave gone away, neither could he have brought home a strange woman. Thiswas the only satisfactory ending. But I hope you will be awfully inlove with each other and sweet--and silly and all that. I am sorry forCaptain Hawthorne, for, Doris, he loved you sincerely, but your Frenchcousin can console himself with an English rhyme:

 "'If she be not fair for me, What care I how fair she be?'"

And oddly enough a few months later he did console himself with EudoraChapman. 

Just a few years afterward there was a great time in Boston. For she hadadopted a charter and become a real city, after long and earnestdiscussion. There was a grand celebration and no end of dinners, andyoung Cary Adams made one of the addresses. Mr. Winthrop Adams insistedthat his life work was done, but he lived to be interested in many moreimprovements, and some charming grandchildren. 

"But after all, " Doris would declare, "splendid as it is going to be, Iam glad to belong to Old Boston with her lanes and byways and roughhills and marsh lands, with their billowy grasses and wild flowers, andgreat gardens full of fruit trees, and the little old shops and peoplesitting on front stoops sewing or reading or chatting cozily. And what apleasure it will be by and by to tell the children that I was a littlegirl in Old Boston. "

THE END. 

 * * * * *

Other Books Published by A. L. BURT COMPANY

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The "Little Girl" Series

By AMANDA M. DOUGLAS

 A Little Girl in Old New York

 A Little Girl of Long Ago A sequel to "A Little Girl in Old New York"

 A Little Girl in Old Boston

 A Little Girl in Old Philadelphia

 A Little Girl in Old Washington

 A Little Girl in Old New Orleans

 A Little Girl in Old Detroit

 A Little Girl in Old St. Louis

 A Little Girl in Old Chicago

 A Little Girl in Old San Francisco

 A Little Girl in Old Quebec

 A Little Girl in Old Baltimore

 A Little Girl in Old Salem

 A Little Girl in Old Pittsburg

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The Camp Fire Girls Series

By HILDEGARD G. FREY. 

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The Winnebagos go Camping. 

 This lively Camp Fire group and their Guardian go back to Nature in a camp in the wilds of Maine and pile up more adventures in one summer than they have had in all their previous vacations put together. 

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL; or, The Wohelo Weavers. 

 How these seven live wire girls strive to infuse into their school life the spirit of Work, Health and Love and yet manage to get into more than their share of mischief, is told in this story. 

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT ONOWAY HOUSE; or, The Magic Garden. 

 Migwan is determined to go to college, and not being strong enough to work indoors earns the money by raising fruits and vegetables. The Winnebagos all turn a hand to help the cause along and the "goingson" at Onoway House that summer make the foundation shake with laughter. 

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS GO MOTORING; or, Along the Road That Leads the Way. 

 In which the Winnebagos take a thousand mile auto trip. 

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' LARKS AND PRANKS; or, The House of the Open Door. 

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN'S ISLE; or, The Trail of the Seven Cedars. 

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON THE OPEN ROAD; or, Glorify Work. 

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT; or, Over the Top with the Winnebagos. 

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY; or, The Christmas Adventure atCarver House. 

THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT CAMP KEEWAYDIN; or, Down Paddles. 

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The Girl Chums Series

A carefully selected series of books for girls, written by popularauthors. These are charming stories for young girls, well told and fullof interest. Their simplicity tenderness, healthy, interesting motivesvigorous action, and character painting will please all girl readers. 

 BENHURST, CLUB, THE. By Howe Benning. 

 BERTHA'S SUMMER BOARDERS. By Linnie S. Harris

 BILLOW PRAIRIE. A Story of Life in the Great West By Joy Allison. 

 DUXBERRY DOINGS. A New England Story. By Caroline B. Le Row. 

 FUSSBUDGET'S FOLKS. A Story For Young Girls. By Anna F. Burnham. 

 HAPPY DISCIPLINE, A. By Elizabeth Cummings. 

 JOLLY TEN, THE; and Their Year of Stories. By Agnes Carr Sage. 

 KATIE ROBERTSON. A Girl's Story of Factory Life By M. E. Winslow. 

 LONELY HILL. A Story For Girls. By M. L. Thornton-Wilder. 

 MAJORIBANKS. A Girl's Story. By Elvirton Wright. 

 MISS CHARITY'S HOUSE. By Howe Benning. 

 MISS ELLIOT'S GIRLS. A Story For Young Girls. By Mary Spring Corning. 

 MISS MALCOLM'S TEN. A Story For Girls. By Margaret E. Winslow. 

 ONE GIRL'S WAY OUT. By Howe Benning. 

 PEN'S VENTURE. By Elvirton Wright. 

 RUTH PRENTICE. A Story For Girls. By Marion Thorne. 

 THREE YEARS AT GLENWOOD. A Story of School Life. By M. E. Winslow. 

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The Girl Comrade's Series

A carefully selected series of books for girls, written by popularauthors. These are charming stories for young girls, well told and fullof interest. Their simplicity tenderness, healthy, interesting motives, vigorous action, and character painting will please all girl readers. 

 A BACHELOR MAID AND HER BROTHER. By I. T. Thurston. 

 ALL ABOARD. A Story For Girls. By Fannie E. Newberry. 

 ALMOST A GENIUS. A Story For Girls. By Adelaide L. Rouse. 

 ANNICE WYNKOOP, Artist. Story of a Country Girl. By Adelaide L. Rouse. 

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 COMRADES. By Fannie E. Newberry. 

 DEANE GIRLS, THE. A Home Story. By Adelaide L. Rouse. 

 HELEN BEATON, COLLEGE WOMAN. By Adelaide L. Rouse. 

 JOYCE'S INVESTMENTS. A Story For Girls. By Fannie E. Newberry. 

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 MISS ASHTON'S NEW PUPIL. A School Girl's Story. By Mrs. S. S. Robbins. 

 NOT FOR PROFIT. A Story For Girls. By Fannie E. Newberry. 

 ODD ONE, THE. A Story For Girls. By Fannie E. Newberry. 

 SARA, A PRINCESS. A Story For Girls. By Fannie E. Newberry. 

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The Blue Grass Seminary Girls Series

By CAROLYN JUDSON BURNETT

_Splendid Stories of the Adventures of a Group of Charming Girls_

 THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS' VACATION ADVENTURES; or, Shirley Willing to the Rescue. 

 THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS' CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS; or, A Four Weeks' Tour with the Glee Club. 

 THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS IN THE MOUNTAINS; or, Shirley Willing on a Mission of Peace. 

 THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS ON THE WATER; or, Exciting Adventures on a Summer's Cruise Through the Panama Canal. 

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THE MILDRED SERIES

By MARTHA FINLEY

_A Companion Series to the famous "Elsie" Books by the Same Author_

 MILDRED KEITH

 MILDRED AT ROSELANDS

 MILDRED AND ELSIE

 MILDRED'S MARRIED LIFE

 MILDRED AT HOME

 MILDRED'S BOYS AND GIRLS

 MILDRED'S NEW DAUGHTER