stone, curving over modern bay windows, which broke up the stiff
uniformity of the original design; and along one tall gable that fronted
on the river, French windows, glittering with plate glass, opened to a
verandah of stone-work, surrounded by a low railing also of stone; and
if these windows were not one blaze of gold at sunset, you might be
certain that a storm was lowering over the Palisades, and that the next
day would be a cloudy one.

Another gable facing the south was lighted by a broad arched window
crowded full of diamond-shaped glass, tinted through and through by the
bloom and glow of a conservatory within. In short the mansion was a
picturesque incongruity utterly indescribable, and yet one of the most
interesting old houses in the world.

Whatever might be said of its architecture, it certainly had a most
aristocratic appearance, and bore proofs in every line and curve of its
stone traceries, both of fine taste and great wealth, inherited from
generation to generation. Time itself would have failed to sweep these
traces of family pride from the old house, for each century had carved
it deeper and deeper into the massive stone, and it was as much a
portion of the scenery, as the stately old forest trees that sheltered
it.

But we have alluded to one who sat in a room of this old mansion,
looking thoughtfully out upon the change that a single night had left
upon the landscape. Her seat, a crimson easy-chair, stood near one of
the broad bay windows we have mentioned. The sashes were folded back,
and she looked dreamily out upon the river and the opposite shore. The
whole view was bathed in a subdued glow of crimson and golden purple;
for the sun was sinking behind the Palisades, and shot sheaf after sheaf
of flashing arrows across the river, that melted into a soft glowing
haze before they reached the apartment which she occupied.

The room behind was full of shadows, and nothing but the light of a
hickory-wood fire revealed the objects it contained. She was looking
forth upon the sunset, and yet thinking of other countries and scenes
long gone by. Her mind had seized upon the salient points of a history
full of experience, and she was swept away into the past.

No, she was not young, nor beautiful even. The flush of youth was gone
for ever. Her features were thoughtful, almost severe, her form stately
and mature.

No, she was not beautiful. At her age that were impossible, and yet she
was a woman