Because of what they thought of as a curse, Matthew and Sarah treasured and coddled Rosie. She liked, from a very young age, to be in high places, and they obliged her by making the attic into quite a cozy bedroom; the dormer windows, with their diamond panes, let a good deal of sunlight in, and Sarah covered the bed in soft white and blue linens and installed bookshelves, a toy chest and a chest of drawers.
Rosie’s favorite place besides her garret-room was undoubtedly the kitchen. She loved the warmth and the scents and the clanking and clattering of pots and pans when Mama was working in it, and she loved the sheer coziness and self-possessed silence of the place when no one else was about.
But when Papa was at home, her very favorite place was his lap, or in later years a perch in a nearby chair. Papa had been most everywhere, it seemed; before he had owned ships, he had sailed them all over the world and he told her of his travels.