destined to sleep in. But Aunt Henshaw assured me that there was no
danger; and I found from experience that I could sleep almost as well
there as in my own bed at home.

The wind was unfavorable, and we were almost a week on the water; but
at length we reached New London and proceeded to Waterford. Aunt
Henshaw's family, I knew, consisted only of a daughter--her sons having
married and settled away from her--and to the meeting with this cousin
Statia, I looked forward with some anxiety. It was almost dark when we
approached the house; a real farmhouse, with lilac and syringa bushes in
front, and a honeysuckle running over the piazza. A little dog came out
and barked at us--a sensible-looking cat rested on the porch--and in the
door-way stood Cousin Statia. She kissed me affectionately, and appeared
glad to see her mother; and we were all soon seated around the table,
where fresh cottage-cheese, crimson radishes, and warm tea-cakes looked
invitingly forth.

I was rather disappointed in the appearance of Cousin Statia; I had
expected to see a fresh, smiling-looking country girl, but I found a
stiff, demure-looking young lady, at whose age I scarcely dared venture
a guess. A little colored girl waited on the table, who evidently
surveyed me with a great deal of interest; for I constantly caught the
sharp glances of her little black eyes. She had been christened
Aholibama--a name which she told me was taken out of some story-book,
though I afterwards found that it was in the Bible--but this being too
long an appellation, they had abbreviated it to Holly. During a hasty
glance into the cheerful kitchen, I caught a glimpse of a very
nice-looking colored woman, who, I afterwards found, was Sylvia, the
cook.