o accumulate a good deal through generations."

Cynthia went up in the garret with Miss Winn and was full of interest
over the old Leverett treasures. Here was the cradle in which Leverett
babies had been rocked, an old bit of mahogany nearly black with age.

"How funny!" cried Cynthia, springing into it, and making a clatter on
the floor.

"Don't, dear! Miss Elizabeth may not like it," said Miss Winn.

"As if I should hurt it!" indignantly.

"It is not ours."

"But we sit on their chairs, and sleep in their beds, and eat at their
table," returned the child. "Do you suppose they do not want us?"

"Our coming is Mr. Leverett's affair, and he is your guardian, so
whatever home he provides is right."

"Well, we can have a home of our own when father comes?"

"Oh, yes; when he comes."

"Well, then I shall not mind;" decisively.

Still she peered about among the old things. There were some iron
fire-dogs, a much-tarnished frame, with a cracked glass that cut her
face in a grotesque fashion, old dishes and kitchen furniture past
using, or that had been supplanted by a newer and better kind.

"Oh, dear! this is an undertaking!" declared Miss Winn, with a sigh. "I
do not believe you will ever use half these things; there are stuffs
enough to dress a queen."

It was beginning to grow dusky before she was through, though the sky
was overcast, and there would be no fine sunset. Indeed, the wind blew
up stormily. Cynthia had been viewing the place from the windows in the
four gables, though she had to stand on a box. There were South River
and the Neck and the shipping--the men, hurrying to and fro, looking so
much smaller that it puzzled Cynthia. And there was North River winding
about, and over beyond the great ocean she had crossed. There was old
St. Peter's Church, the new one was not built until long afterward, and
smaller places of worship. There was the small beginning of things to be
famous later on.

The wind began to whistle about and it grew cool, so they were glad to
go down to the cheerful sitting-room, where a fire was blazing on the
hearth.

"We shall have a storm to-night," said Miss Eunice, "our three days'
storm that usually makes its appearance about this time. Didn't you
'most perish upstairs? And what did you find to interest you?"

Cynthia had brought a stool and sat close to Miss Eunice, leaning one
arm on her knee.

"Oh, so many queer things. You don't mind if I call them queer, do you?"