before Margaret, hearing of his
arrival, rushed into the office to find him. I was vainly
attempting to soothe him as she entered; but he was running
from one end to the other of the office, crying passionately,
and refusing to be pacified. She hastened to him, in perfect
confidence that her endearments would calm the current of his
feelings,--that the sound of her well-remembered voice would
banish all thought of his pain,--and that another moment would
see him restored to gentleness; but, half-wakened, he did not
heed her, and probably did not even realize who it was that
caught him repeatedly in her arms and tenderly insisted that
he should restrain himself. At last she desisted in
despair; and, with the bitter tears streaming down her face,
observed:--'Pickie, many friends have treated me unkindly,
but no one had ever the power to cut me to the heart, as you
have!' Being thus let alone, he soon came to himself, and
their mutual delight in the meeting was rather heightened by
the momentary estrangement.

"They had one more meeting; their last on earth! 'Aunty
Margaret' was to embark for Europe on a certain day, and
'Pickie' was brought into the city to bid her farewell.
They met this time also at my office, and together we thence
repaired to the ferry-boat, on which she was returning to her
residence in Brooklyn to complete her preparations for the
voyage. There they took a tender and affecting leave of each
other. But soon his mother called at the office, on her way to
the departing ship, and we were easily persuaded to accompany
her thither, and say farewell once more, to the manifest
satisfaction of both Margaret and the youngest of her devoted
friends. Thus they parted, never to meet again in time. She
sent him messages and presents repeatedly from Europe; and he,
when somewhat older, dictated a letter in return, which was
joyfully received and acknowledged. When the mother of our
great-souled friend spent some days with us nearly two years
afterward, 'Pickie' talked to her often and lovingly of 'Aunty
Margaret,' proposing that they two should 'take a boat and go
over and see her,'--for, to his infantile conception, the low
coast of Long Island, visible just across the East River,
was that Europe to which she had sailed, and where she was
unaccountably det