" Here on the upland where the land had been well cleared, she had a view not only of the bay but of the wider Sound, and of the ships that came and went continually between New York's harbor and the sea.
Benjamin had come here often as a boy to chase his dreams of grand adventure, studying the passing ships so that he could, like Joseph, know the types of vessels by their varied shapes and rigging, be they brigs or sloops or bilanders or snows. He'd watched them for so long that he could name most of the New York ships on sight, amazing Lydia, who only recognized her brother William's four: the Bellewether, the Honest John, the Katharine, and the Fox.
Of these, her favorite was the Bellewether, because although the smallest of them all it was the prettiest and swiftest.
"She will run before all the others," had been William's explanation of the sloop's name. "Like the sheep we bell to lead the flock."
"You've spelled it wrong," their mother had said mildly as she'd read the brave name painted on the hull. "It is spelled 'bellwether,' without the second e."
"But 'belle' is French for 'beautiful,' and she is surely that," had been his answer. "

― Susanna Kearsley , Bellewether