and is crowned, as is the roof, with that pineapple in whose
symbolic wealth the rich merchants of the last century
delighted.

Like most of the statelier houses in that region of Oldport,
this abode had its rumors of a ghost and of secret chambers.
The ghost had never been properly lionized nor laid, for Aunt
Jane, the neatest of housekeepers, had discouraged all silly
explorations, had at once required all barred windows to be
opened, all superfluous partitions to be taken down, and
several highly eligible dark-closets to be nailed up. If there
was anything she hated, it was nooks and odd corners. Yet there
had been times that year, when the household would have been
glad to find a few more such hiding-places; for during the
first few weeks the house had been crammed with guests so
closely that the very mice had been ill-accommodated and
obliged to sit up all night, which had caused them much
discomfort and many audible disagreements.

But this first tumult had passed away; and now there remained
only the various nephews and nieces of the house, including a
due proportion of small children. Two final guests were to
arrive that day, bringing the latest breath of Europe on their
wings,--Philip Malbone, Hope's betrothed; and little Emilia,
Hope's half-sister.

None of the family had seen Emilia since her wandering mother
had taken her abroad, a fascinating spoiled child of four, and
they were all eager to see in how many ways the succeeding
twelve years had completed or corrected the spoiling. As for