ze of
Lord Chief Justice Holt's little finger being the maximum in such
cases.

The Autumn of that year was remarkable for the beauty and clemency of
the weather. Knowing that there was little hope for the abatement of
the pestilence, and none of its extinction, until after a severe frost,
the exiled citizens were never before so anxious for the frosty
foretaste of winter. But the heavens continued cloudless, and week
after week of ethereal mildness succeeded, until past the middle of
October.

It was during this protracted season of sunny weather, that for several
days in succession, I observed my old friend Wheelwright passing the
window of my temporary office, in company and close conversation with a
lady clad in the deepest habiliments of mourning. The doctor was well
dressed, and so was the lady; for the suit and trappings of her wo were
new as though she was but recent from "the sad burial feast," probably,
of her wedded lord. Whether her countenance was as indicative of a
sorrowful and bleeding heart, as the deep sables in which she was
veiled, I could not tell. But no matter: day after day were they
seen strolling leisurely up the then unbuilt portion of Broadway, and
among the wooded lanes leading therefrom in the outskirts of the city.
Love lane--a retired and charming walk--exactly the place for meditation
or making love,--crossing over from the Bloomingdale road to the North
River, which has since been "improved" out of existence,--was a favorite
place of resort with my old friend and his fair companion--_fair_, no
doubt she was, albeit her beauty was hidden from the vulgar gaze in the
manner already indicated.

But who was _she_? Perhaps a sister, or some other near relative
of his, whose husband had been swept off by the pestilence, and into
whose throbbing bosom he was kindly endeavoring to pour some of the
balmy drops of consolation! But no--such could not be the fact, since
no corresponding weed of sorrow appeared upon his own well-brushed
beaver. Perhaps a stranger, just rendered an orphan, or bereft of a
brother by the ruthless hand of the West India plague--an acquaintance
of my friend, whose melancholy he was kindly endeavoring to assuage.
But, on the other hand, such offices were quite out of his line, since
he was not easily moved--unless from one purpose to another--and of all
men he was the most unused "to the melting mood." It was truly a
perplexing affair; and the mystery was increased by