d the house in such a state when I do get about, it
will take me all summer to right it. You never were as thorough as I
could wish, Eunice."

Miss Winn begged that she might be of service. She had so little to do,
or to think about, that time hung heavy on her hands, now that Cynthia
was in school. For then school hours were from nine to five. And the
child was getting so handy caring for herself. She curled her hair and
put on her clothes, brought her shoes down every evening for Silas to
black, and sometimes wiped the tea dishes while Miss Winn washed them.
Somehow there didn't seem so much work to do. Eunice didn't always have
two kinds of cake for supper, nor a great shelf full of pies for Silas
to take home. There was plenty of everything and no one complained.

They found Mother Taft invaluable. She was about the average height, and
had long arms, and strength according. Then she had a most excellent
way with her. When Elizabeth groaned that they never could get on
without her, and she must be up and about before everything went to
"wrack and ruin," Mother Taft said:

"The kitchen looks like a new pin. There's no signs of ruin that I can
see. Meals are good, cake fine, house clean. When you get downstairs
you'll think you haven't been out of the harness more'n a week."

"A likely story," Elizabeth moaned.

Cynthia went through March very successfully, but with the first warm
spell in April she caught a cold and coughed, and Chilian was almost
wild about her, his nerves having been worn somewhat by Elizabeth's
mishap. But after ten days or so she came around all right and was eager
for school again.

She was sitting in her old place by the window late one afternoon and he
had been reading some poems to her--a volume lately come from England.

"Cousin Chilian," she said, "will you tell me what true relation we
are?"

"Why, what has put that in your head?"

"I want to know." She said it persuasively.

"Well, it isn't very near after all. My father and yours were cousins.
My father was the son of the oldest brother, your father the son of the
youngest, that stretched them quite far apart. When I wasn't much more
than a baby Anthony came to live with us, and was like an elder brother
to me. Father was very fond of him. But he would go to sea and he made
a fine sailor and captain. Then he was married from here, and you were
born here."

"The girls sometimes say, 'your uncle.' I wonder if you would like to