There were two large rooms held almost sacred by both sisters. They were separated by an archway, apparently upheld on each end by a fluted column. Both rooms had a wide chimney-piece, the mantel and its supports elaborately carved and painted white. Two windows were in each end, draped with soft crimson curtains. The floor was polished, with a rug laid down in the centre. It was furnished in a manner that would have delighted a connoisseur, but Elizabeth did not admire the conglomeration. They were family relics and seemed to have little relation with one another, yet they were harmonious. There was a thin-legged spinet, with a Latin legend running across the front of the cover, which was always down. The chairs were not made for lounging, that was plain; and the sofa, with its rolling ends and claw feet, had been polished until the haircloth looked like satin. A dead and gone Leverett bride had imported that from London. When the East Indian article had been consigned to an appropriate space, it looked as much at home as if it had lived there half a century. Then the parlor was shut up again, the mat in the hall shaken out, the front door bolted. Miss Winn had asked for a hammer and chisel that she might open one of the boxes. "Take Silas. That is a man's work," said Chilian. Cynthia was in the sitting-room, where it was still chilly enough to have a fire. Eunice was knotting fringe for a bedspread, and it interested the child wonderfully. She was not a little shocked to find a child of nine knew nothing about sewing, had never hemmed ruffles, nor done overseam, or knit, or it seemed anything useful. "Why, when I was a little girl of your age I could spin in the little wheel." "What did you spin?" "Why, thread, of course, linen thread made from flax." "Were you a truly little girl?" in surprise. "Why, child, don't you know anything?" Then Miss Eunice laughed softly and patted the small shoulder, looking kindly into the wondering eyes. There was no hurt in her tone and the words rather amused. "I know a great many things. I can read some Latin, and I know about Greece and its splendid heroes who conquered a good deal of the world. There was Alexander the Great and Philip of Macedon. And Tamerlane, who conquered nearly all Asia. And--and Confucius, the great man of China, who was a wise philosopher, and wrote a bible----" "Oh, no; not a bible!" interrupted Miss Eunice, horrified. "There is only one Bible, my dear, and that is the Word of God." "But the other is the bible of the Chinese, and some of them believe Confucius was a god." "That is quite impossible, my dear;" in a rather decisive, but still gentle tone.