ste it, after which
appetite got the better of his valorous resolutions,--he ate and was
comforted; and after a little time, the three were on the best possible
footing. And Miss Ruey having smoothed her hair, and arranged her
frisette and cap, began to reflect upon herself as the cause of the
whole disturbance. If she had not let them run while she indulged in
reading and singing, this would not have happened. So the toilful good
soul kept them at her knee for the next hour or two, while they looked
through all the pictures in the old family Bible.

* * * * *

The evening of that day witnessed a crowded funeral in the small rooms
of Captain Kittridge. Mrs. Kittridge was in her glory. Solemn and
lugubrious to the last degree, she supplied in her own proper person the
want of the whole corps of mourners, who generally attract sympathy on
such occasions. But what drew artless pity from all was the unconscious
orphan, who came in, led by Mrs. Pennel by the one hand, and with the
little Mara by the other.

The simple rite of baptism administered to the wondering little creature
so strongly recalled that other scene three years before, that Mrs.
Pennel hid her face in her handkerchief, and Zephaniah's firm hand shook
a little as he took the boy to offer him to the rite. The child received
the ceremony with a look of grave surprise, put up his hand quickly and
wiped the holy drops from his brow, as if they annoyed him; and
shrinking back, seized hold of the gown of Mrs. Pennel. His great
beauty, and, still more, the air of haughty, defiant firmness with which
he regarded the company, drew all eyes, and many were the whispered
comments.

"Pennel'll have his hands full with that ar chap," said Captain
Kittridge to Miss Roxy.

Mrs. Kittridge darted an admonitory glance at her husband, to remind him
that she was looking at him, and immediately he collapsed into
solemnity.

The evening sunbeams slanted over the blackberry bushes and mullein
stalks of the graveyard, when the lonely voyager was lowered to the rest
from which she should not rise till the heavens be no more. As the
purple sea at that hour retained no trace of the ships that had furrowed
its waves, so of this mortal traveler no trace remained, not even in
that infant soul that was to her so passionately dear.

CHAPTER X

THE MINISTER

Mrs. Kittridge's advantages and immunities resulting from the shipwreck
were not yet