parlor, the outside drizzle, the books, the roses, and the face
and figure of Mr. Poe as he gravely bent over that manuscript copy of
his immortal poem of _The Raven_.

Had he no premonition that even then a darker shadow than that of the
_Raven_ was hovering over him? It was one of the last occasions on which
I ever saw him.

CHAPTER XXIX.

MRS. SHELTON.

Poe's first visits on his arrival in Richmond had been to Mrs. Shelton,
and it soon became known that an engagement existed between them,
although they were never seen together in public, and Poe on all
occasions denied the engagement. Yet morning after morning the curious
neighbors were treated to a sight of the poet ascending the steps of the
tall, plain, substantial looking brick house on the corner of Grace
street, facing the rear of St. John's church, and had they watched more
closely they might at times have seen another figure following in its
footsteps. This was Rosalie Poe, who, delighted at her brother's
engagement, and being utterly without tact or judgment, would present
herself at Mrs. Shelton's door shortly after his own arrival, as she
said, for the pleasure of seeing the couple together. Once she surprised
them at a _tete-a-tete_ luncheon at which "corned beef and mustard"
figured; but on another occasion Mrs. Shelton met and informed her that
Mr. Poe had a headache from his long walk and was resting on the parlor
sofa, where she herself would attend to him, and so dismissed her, to
her great indignation. Not alone to Mrs. Shelton's were these
"shadowings" of her brother confined, but if she at any time knew of his
intention to call at some house where she herself was acquainted, she
would as likely as not make her own appearance during his visit; or, in
promenading Broad street, he would unexpectedly find himself waylaid and
introduced to some prosy acquaintance of his sister. It required Mrs.
Mackenzie's authority to relieve him from these annoyances. There was,
however, something pathetic in the sister's pride in and affection for a
brother from whom she received but little manifestation of regard. He
treated her indulgently, but, as she herself often said, in her homely
way, "Edgar could never love me as I do him, _because he is so far above
me_."

About the middle of August Mrs. Shelton's interested neighbors observed
that the poet's visits to her suddenly ceased; and then followed a
report that the engagement was broken, and that a