General Gage had his office, and Madam Page had tea on the roof, because
they had promised not to use tea in the house.

That amused Cynthia and he also told her of the woman, when tea first
came to the country, who boiled the leaves and seasoned them, passing
them around to her guests, who didn't think they were anything much in
the vegetable line and too expensive ever to become general.

Birds sang about them, flocks of wild geese had started on their
northward journey. What a wonderful world it was! And her father had
been a boy here in Salem village, had lived in Cousin Chilian's house in
the father's time, and her mother had been married in the stately
parlor. Why, she could dream of their being real guests of the place.
How odd she should come to live here. The life in India would be the
dream presently.

She was very tired when Chilian lifted her out of the carriage and took
her upstairs. Rachel put her to bed for a while and gave her a cup of
hot tea--mint and catnip--which was a great restorer, or so considered,
in those days. She came down to supper and was quite bright.

Every day she improved a little. Eunice said she was getting 'climated.

Elizabeth wondered if she had any deep feeling. She had expected to see
her "take on" terribly. Chilian begged her not to disturb the child's
faith that both parents were in heaven.

"Letty Orne, that was, might have been one of the elect, but sea
captains are seldom considered safe in the fold, as children of grace. I
never heard that he had any evidence. And 'tisn't safe to count on
meeting them unless you've had some sign."

"We must leave a good many of these things to God. His ways are better
than our short-sighted wisdom."

Elizabeth was never quite sure of Chilian. So much study, and reading,
and college talk, and the new theories, and what they called
discoveries, were enough to unsettle one's faith, and she feared for
him. Younger children than Cynthia had gone through the throes of
conviction--she had herself, and she longed to see her in this state.

But the child was quite her olden self. What with the change of climate
and her illness she was many shades fairer, and her hair was losing its
queer sunburned color. Her thin frame began to fill out, her face grew
rounder, and her smile was sweetness itself.

"But she hasn't grown a mite since she came. Leverett people are all of
a fair size. I don't know a little runt among them," persisted
Elizabet