"Indeed I am, of the large ones," he said at a venture.
He fancied that he felt a gentle pressure of sympathetic approval. She glanced up for an instant and her eyes transfixed him. They were a deep wonderful blue, almost black at the pupil, then raying off a little lighter. It made him think of a star in the winter midnight sky with a halo around it. The lashes were long and nearly black. Otherwise she had little claim to beauty just then. Her complexion had a tawny hue made by sun and wind, her hair was light, but it had a peculiar sunburned tint, though it was fine and abundant and hung in loose curls about her shoulders. Her nose was the only Leverett feature—it was straight, rather small, and had the flexibility that betrayed passing emotions. The Leverett lips were thin, hers were full in the middle, giving a certain roundness to the mouth.
"Are there any where you live?" hesitatingly.
"Any?" Then he recalled the subject they had touched upon. "Oh, no; you seldom see them, and they are mostly harmless."
"Have you any little girls in your house?"
"No, I am sorry to say."
"There were two little English girls on shipboard at first. They went on board another vessel after a while. I liked them very much. They knew a great many things about countries. I can read, but I don't a great deal. Sometimes father would tell me about America. There are a great many countries in it, and once they had a big war. They had wars, too, in India. Why must people kill each other?"
"There seem to be reasons. A little girl could not understand them all, I think;" and how could he explain them?
"Oh, there is Captain Corwin!" She flew across the cabin with outstretched arms, which she clasped about him.
"Well, have you been getting acquainted with—he will be your uncle, I suppose. What title are you going to take with the child, Mr. Leverett?"