ion
of it was current among the townspeople. She set the mansion in the
best order that her means allowed, and, arraying herself in silks and
tarnished gold, stood long before the blurred mirror to admire her own
magnificence. As she gazed the gray and withered lady moved her ashen
lips, murmuring half aloud, talking to shapes that she saw within the
mirror, to shadows of her own fantasies, to the household friends of
memory, and bidding them rejoice with her and come forth to meet the
governor. And while absorbed in this communion Mistress Dudley heard
the tramp of many footsteps in the street, and, looking out at the
window, beheld what she construed as the royal governor's arrival.

"Oh, happy day! Oh, blessed, blessed hour!" she exclaimed. "Let me but
bid him welcome within the portal, and my task in the province-house
and on earth is done." Then, with tottering feet which age and
tremulous joy caused to tread amiss, she hurried down the grand
staircase, her silks sweeping and rustling as she went; so that the
sound was as if a train of special courtiers were thronging from the
dim mirror.

And Esther Dudley fancied that as soon as the wide door should be
flung open all the pomp and splendor of bygone times would pace
majestically into the province-house and the gilded tapestry of the
past would be brightened by the sunshine of the present. She turned
the key, withdrew it from the lock, unclosed the door and stepped
across the threshold. Advancing up the court-yard appeared a person of
most dignified mien, with tokens, as Esther interpreted them, of
gentle blood, high rank and long-accustomed authority even in his walk
and every gesture. He was richly dressed, but wore a gouty shoe,
which, however, did not lessen the stateliness of his gait. Around and
behind him were people in plain civic dresses and two or three
war-worn veterans--evidently officers of rank--arrayed in a uniform of
blue and buff. But Esther Dudley, firm in the belief that had fastened
its roots about her heart, beheld only the principal personage, and
never doubted that this was the long-looked-for governor to whom she
was to surrender up her charge. As he approached she involuntarily
sank down on her knees and tremblingly held forth the heavy key.

"Receive my trust! Take it quickly," cried she, "for methinks Death is
striving to snatch away my triumph. But he conies too late. Thank
Heaven for this blessed hour! God save King George!"

"That