Framed in one of those pointed natural cathedral-windows of vivid green,
gemmed with red roses, of which the division-posts of the porch formed
the white outlines, stood the most remarkable-looking aged woman I have
ever seen. At a first glance, indeed, the question of sex would have
arisen, and been found difficult to decide. Her attire seemed that of a
friar, even to the small scalloped cape that scantily covered her
shoulders, and the coarse black serge, of which her strait gown was
composed, leaving exposed her neatly though coarsely clad feet, with
their snow-white home-knit stockings, and low-quartered, well-polished
calf-skin shoes, confined with steel buckles, and elevated on heels,
then worn by men alone.

She wore a white habit shirt, the collar, bosom, and wristbands of which
were visible; but no cap covered her silver hair, which was cropped in
the neck, and divided at one side in true manly fashion. It was brushed
well back from her expansive, fair, and unwrinkled forehead, beneath
which large blue eyes looked out with that strange solemnity we see
alone in the orbs of young, thoughtful children, or the very old.

Scott's description of the "Monk of Melrose Abbey" occurred to me, as I
gazed on this calm and striking figure!

"And strangely on the knight looked he,
And his blue eyes gleamed wild and wide."

She stood watching our approach, leaning with both hands on her ebony,
silver-headed cane, above which she stooped slightly, her aged and
somewhat severe, but serene face fully turned toward us, in the clear
light of morning, with a grave majesty of aspect.