"Only a few days before she had her stroke she made me write this and go up and pin it on the quilt. Maybe she'd had a warning, people do sometimes. I supposed she'd leave it to Chilian. Oh, my dear, she'd be so glad to have you go on in the old house if she could know." Eunice wiped the tears from her eyes. Cynthia bent over and kissed among the stitches the poor fingers had toiled at day after day, sorry for the toil, glad for the love that came at the last. The Leverett house opened its doors with a generous hospitality. People, men at least, began to think of something beside money-making, and some fine plans were broached. Chilian Leverett seemed to grow younger. Cynthia should not miss the joys of youth out of her life. He did something more than dance minuets, for her sake he essayed quadrilles. The exquisite motion with her, her dainty hand in his, or at times resting on his shoulder, filled him with an all-pervading delight. "Chilian, do you realize that you are a really beautiful dancer?" she said one evening after they had returned from a small company. "Then I must have caught it from you. In my youth dancing was considered frivolous." "And in India you hire the men and women to dance for you, and follow the enchanting motions with your eye. But it is so warm out there." She had been playing one evening when she started up, exclaiming, "Let us try that new thing--the waltz. It is just made for two people very much in love." "It is?" He smiled in the eager face. It was said that she could twist him around her finger. "Why, we have no music." "I can sing the measure, just la, la!" and she started the melody. There were two long paths of moonlight through the wide-open shutters. Moonlight and sunshine were welcome visitors. She held out her hands. Just that way she had charmed others, and he yielded to the seductive influence. For, oh, she was so young and sweet. It was a little awkward at first, but they soon found the steps. It was rather slow and graceful, not the mad whirl of later times. It _was_ considered rather reprehensible, but between husband and wife it was right enough. They found it very fascinating. After a while a sort of grave, sweet seriousness came over her. She liked to sit in the study and have him read poetry to her while she sewed. She had never loved sewing, but now she had taken a fancy to it. Dainty little lacey things, with the softest of muslins, treasures that had come from India. For there were stacks of towels and sheets and useful articles, so why should she bother about them? Jane was married and a middle-aged, homeless widow was very glad to come. Miss Winn took the head of the housekeeping, and Cousin Eunice was very willing.