as staying there while I was
young, we thought she had drowned herself, and even had the men search
for her along the shore of the river; but after a time cousin Matthew
heard of her alive and well in Salem; and I believe she appeared again
this last time as suddenly as she went away."

"I suppose she will never die," said my mother gravely. "She must be
terribly old," said my father. "When I saw her last, she had scarcely
changed at all from the way she looked when I was a boy. She is even
more quiet and gentle than she used to be. There is no danger that the
child will have any fear of her; do you think so?"--"Oh, no! but I
think I will tell her that madam is a very old woman, and that I hope
she will be very kind, and try not to annoy her; and that she must not
be frightened at her strange notions. I doubt if she knows what
craziness is."--"She would be wise if she could define it," said my
father with a smile. "Perhaps we had better say nothing about the old
lady. It is probable that she stays altogether in her own room, and
that the child will rarely see her. I never have realized until lately
the horror of such a long life as hers, living on and on, with one's
friends gone long ago: such an endless life in this world!"

Then there was a mysterious old person living at the ferry, and there
was a question whether I would not be "afraid" of her. She "had not
changed" since my father was a boy: "it was horrible to have one's life
endless in this world!"

The days went quickly by. My mother, who was somewhat of an invalid,
grew sad as the time drew near for saying good-by to me, and was more
tender and kind than ever before, and more indulgent of every wish and
fancy of mine. We had been together all my life, and now it was to be
long months before she could possibly see my face again, and perhaps
she was leaving me forever. Her time was all spent, I believe, in
thoughts for me, and in making arrangements for my comfort. I did see
my mother again; but the tears fill my eyes when I think how dear we
became to each other before that first parting, and with what a
lingering, loving touch, she herself packed my boxes, and made sure,
over and over again, that I had whatever I should need; and I remember
how close she used to hold me when I sat in her lap in the evening,
saying that she was afraid I should have grown too large to be held
when she came back again. We had more to say to each other than ever
be