“That bird is such a comfort to me,” sighed Miss Cynthia, smoothing the gay plumage.  “I named him Ebenezer because it’s so nice to have a man’s name that you can call naturally in case you think some one’s in the house.  I got a man that worked for us to teach him what to answer when I call his name.  Just listen, my dear.”

Miss Cynthia stepped into the hall.  “Ebenezer!  Ebenezer!” she called loudly, and to Ruth’s amusement Ebenezer answered promptly in a voice that sounded surprisingly like that of a man, “Yes, I’m coming.”

“I guess that would scare a burglar some,” remarked Miss Cynthia, complacently, “particularly as you never could tell but that Ebenezer might be right close to the man’s ear when he answered.  I taught him to say ‘Cheer up, cheer up; don’t you cry,’ because sometimes I’m dreadfully lonesome.  It helps out even to have a bird to talk to.”

She looked very sober as she ended, but Ebenezer, fixing a solemn eye on her, barked loudly and then mewed like a cat, evidently desiring to make his mistress feel that she had a large family to comfort her.

“He thinks he’s a whole menagerie,” laughed Ruth.

“Shake hands with her, Ebenezer, and settle it,” commanded Miss Cynthia, and at the word the bird stretched out his funny claw, which Ruth took in gingerly fashion.

“Ebenezer likes young folks as well as I do,” said his mistress soberly, “but somehow they don’t care much about coming to see us.  Aren’t you the girl who likes lace and embroidery?” she asked suddenly.  “I’ve heard about your going over to see that Swiss girl make lace.  I’ve been looking over a chest this morning and I’ve left all the old dresses out to air.  Would you like to see them?”

Ruth assented eagerly.  This would be an easy way for her to finish her call, and she loved to see old-fashioned things.  Miss Cynthia was pleased at her enthusiasm, and after returning Ebenezer to his despised cage, an attention which he acknowledged by pecking gently at her white hair and screaming “Bad bird, bad bird,” led the way up the short, steep flight of stairs.

“What a dear room!” exclaimed Ruth giving a quick glance about her.  Then as her eyes fell upon the treasures spread upon the bed she cried out with pleasure.

“What a beautiful blue gown!  Did somebody really ever wear it?”

“That was my great-aunt’s wedding gown, my Great-aunt Cynthia.  It was given to the niece who was named for her, and then to me on account of the name.”

Ruth gazed admiringly at the shining satin, blue as a summer sky, and made in the quaint fashion of years long past.

“Here are the shoes and the gloves which went with it,” continued Miss Cynthia, “and a fan which she carried.  These little lace tuckers were hers, too.  She never lived to wear out all her pretty fineries, poor little soul, but I’ve been told that her short life was a happy one and a very sweet memory to all who knew her.”