"There are so many things I don't know," she laughed. "And now tell me about yourself and why you did not come back."

"We had a pretty fair journey all along first. But as we were nearing Torres Strait an awful storm took us, and we were driven ash.o.r.e almost a wreck and lost two of our men. After a while we got patched up and set sail again, but I was afraid we would never reach harbor. Howsomever we did, in a pretty bad condition. Poor _Flying Star_ seemed on its last legs and 'twasn't sea legs either. Then I went up to Hong Kong and cruised around, buying stuff and selling it elsewhere. The _Flying Star_ was patched up again, but she wasn't thought safe for a long journey.

But there was plenty of work near at hand. Of course, I knew all about your father, and that the word must have reached you, but I hated mortally to come back and face you. But after a while the hankerin' for old Salem grew upon me. And there was the _Aurora_ wantin' a captain, for the man who brought her out died of a fever. So says I, 'I'm your man, and I've been over often enough to know the ropes, the islands, and p'ints of danger and safe sailing.' So here I be once more. But jiminy Peter! I should hardly 'a' knowed little old Salem. Why, she looks as if she was going to outsail all creation!"

"Oh, we're getting very grand. New streets, and splendid new houses, and stores, and churches. Why, Boston isn't very much finer."

"Don't b'lieve Boston harbor can show tonnage with her! And where's first mate?"

"I don't know, but he will be in soon. Oh, there's Rachel. Rachel, come here to an old friend."

The captain shook hands heartily. "Why, you don't seem to have changed a mite, only to grow younger and plump as a partridge."

It had all to be talked over again and in the midst of it supper was ready, and there was Miss Eunice's surprise. Cynthia could hardly eat, the long journey and the dangers seemed such a strange thing now. Had she really come from India, or was it all a dream?

Yes, old Salem was almost fading out of the minds of even middle-aged people. There were curious stories told about witches and ghosts, but the real witchcraft was dying out of mind and the old houses that had been a.s.sociated with it were looked upon as curiosities. Public spirit was being roused. In 1804 the East India Marine Society left the Stearns house and moved to the new Pickman Building in Ess.e.x Street. People began to send in curiosities that had been stored away in garrets: models of early vessels, articles from Calcutta, from the islands about the Central and South Pacific, cloths, and cloaks, and shawls, and implements.

The captain was quite sure Winter Island had grown larger--perhaps it had, by docking out. And he declared the streets looked like London, with the gayly gowned women, the stores, the carriages, for a number of handsome late ones were to be seen. There were a few fine young men on the promenade and they were attired in the height of fashion, as the society men of New York and Philadelphia. They were still paying attention to business and devoting the evenings to pleasure. Descendants of the strict old Puritans met to play cards and have dances and gay times with the young ladies. In the afternoon a cup of tea would be offered to callers, or a piece of choice cake and a gla.s.s of wine--often home-made. There were few excesses.

Many were still wearing the old Continental attire, yet you saw an old Puritan gentleman, with his long coat, his high-crowned hat, black silk stockings, and low shoes with great steel buckles.

Anthony was very much interested in the captain, whose best friend had been Anthony Leverett. He was proud of the name, and Cynthia's story was like a romance to him. He was taken up quite cordially by Cousin Giles, and very cordially by Mrs. Stevens, who had a liking for young men when they were well-mannered. He had managed to enter Harvard, with some studies to make up. Chilian Leverett insisted he should do no teaching this year, and offered him enough to see him through, but he would only accept it as a loan.

Bentley Upham was a year ahead and had a good standing, but he felt a little jealous of the young country fellow--"b.u.mpkin" he would have liked to call him, but he was not that. A young man received at Mr.

Giles Leverett's, and who sometimes escorted Mrs. Stevens to an entertainment, was not to be ignored.

The captain staid in port nearly two months and Cynthia experienced her old fondness for him, if he was a little uncouth and rough. They went down to see the _Aurora_ off and she recalled the day she had said good-bye to the _Flying Star_, that was to bring back her father.

As for her she was very busy learning to play and to paint. It was a young lady's accomplishment, but she really did very well. There were girls' teas, and now and then a small dance that began at seven and ended at nine, but boys were invited generally. Miss Polly Upham was quite in the swim, as we should say now. Mothers expected their daughters to marry, and how could they if they did not see young men?

But there was a certain propriety observed, and very little playing fast and loose with the most sacred period of life, with the greatest G.o.d-given blessing--Love.

CHAPTER XIV

IN GAY OLD SALEM

The next winter Cynthia was fairly launched on society. There was no regular coming out in almost bridal array, with a grand tea and a houseful of flowers. When a girl left school she expected to be invited out and to give little companies at home. Almost the first thing, she was asked to be one of the six bridesmaids at Laura Manning's wedding.

The Mannings had one of the splendid new houses on Chestnut Street, with s.p.a.cious grounds before the houses grew so close together. Avis Manning was still in school, Cynthia was between the two in age. Mr. Manning was connected with the East India trade and an old friend of the Leverett family. It had begun by Cynthia being invited to a girls' tea, and Mrs.

Manning had taken a great fancy to her. Laura was not very tall, and they did not want any one to dwarf the bride.

Every one was to be in white, the bride in a soft, thick silk, and she was to have a court train. The maids were to be in mull or gauze, as a very pretty thin material was called. The Empress Josephine had brought in new styles that certainly were very becoming to young people. The short waist and square neck, the sleeve puffs that had shrunk so much they no longer reached the ears, the short curls around the edge of the forehead arranged so the white parting showed, the dainty feet in elegant slippers and choice silk stockings that could not help showing, for the skirts were short. Pretty feet and slim ankles seemed to be a mark of good family.

"Will I do?" Cynthia stood before Cousin Chilian with a half-saucy smile. Around her throat she wore a beautiful Oriental necklace, with pendants of different fine stones that sparkled with every turn of the head. There were match pendants in her ears, and just back of the rows of curls was a jewelled comb.

She was a pretty girl without being a striking beauty. But her eyes would have redeemed almost any face, and now they were all aglow with a wonderful light.

He looked his admiration.

"Because if _you_ don't like me----"

There was a charming half-coquettish way about her, but she never made a bid for compliments.

"What then?" laughing.

"I'd stay home and spoil the wedding party. I know they couldn't fill my place on a short notice."

He thought they couldn't fill it at all, but he said almost merrily, "You need not stay at home."

Cousin Eunice said she looked pretty enough for the bride. Miss Winn had attended to her toilette, and now she wrapped a soft silken cloak about her and Cousin Chilian put her in the carriage. He was all in his best, ruffled shirt-front, light brocaded silk waist-coat, and there were lace ruffles about his hands.

One feels inclined to wonder at the extravagance of those days, when one sees some of the heirlooms that have come down to us. But their handsome gowns went through several seasons, and then were made over for the daughters. And they did not have their jewels reset every few months.

Such a roomful of pretty girls! Youth and health and picturesque dressing make almost any one pretty. Miss Laura looked fine, but she paused to say, "Oh, Cynthia, what an elegant necklace!"

"Father had it made for mother," she replied simply.

They patted and pulled a little, powdered, too.

Miss Willard, the great mantua-maker of that day, who superintended the dressing of brides, saw that everything was right. The young men came from their dressing-room, and they began to form the procession. Both halls were illuminated with no end of candles, and guests were standing about. Mr. Lynde Saltonstall took his bride-to-be, and they let the white train sweep down the broad stairway, then Avis Manning and Ed Saltonstall followed. They were not much on knick-names in those days, but he had been called Ed to distinguish him from some cousins.

Cynthia and a cousin came next, and there were several other relatives.

It was a beautiful sight. The bride walked up to the white satin cushion on which the couple would kneel during the prayer, the maids and attendants made a semicircle around her, and then the nearest relatives.

The old white-haired minister had married her mother.

Then there was kissing and congratulation and Mrs. Saltonstall had her new name, though Avis said she liked Manning a hundred times better.

"Then you wouldn't accept my name?" said Ed, but he looked laughingly at Cynthia.

"Indeed I wouldn't! I don't want any one's name at present. I'm going to be the only daughter of the house a while," she returned saucily.

"I wonder if I ought to go on and ask all the maids?" There was such a funny anxiety in his face that it added to the merriment.

"You needn't ask this one," said Ward Adams, and Cousin Lois Reade blushed scarlet, though they all knew she was engaged.

"But I'm going to dance with every maid. And just at twelve I'm going to hunt for a gla.s.s slipper."

His look at Cynthia said he needn't hunt very far, and she blushed, which made her more enchanting than before.

They all laughed and talked, the older men teasing the bride a little and giving her advice as to how she should break in her new husband.

Young people's weddings were expected to be gay and every one added his or her mite. The fine new house was duly admired. On one side it was all one long room, beautifully decorated. On the other a library, for books were beginning to come in fashion, even if you were not a clergyman or a student. Then a kind of family sitting-room, with a large dining-room at the back. Some of the fine old houses were taken for public purposes later on.

They went out to refreshments and the bride cut the cake with a silver knife. Large suppers were no longer considered the style, but there was a bountiful supply of delicacies. They drank health and long life to the bride and groom, and good wishes of all kinds.

The black waiter, in white gloves and white ap.r.o.n, stood in the hall to deliver boxes of wedding cake as the older people took their departure.

And then the fiddlers began to tune up. There were two minuets to take in all the party. Cynthia and Mr. Jordan were in the head one, with the bride. He was a little stiff and excused himself, as he wasn't much given to dancing. It didn't matter so much in the minuet.