of attempting to conquer such a people was among the firm beliefs of my
boyhood.

At the time I came to Rivermouth my grandfather had retired from active
pursuits, and was living at ease on his money, invested principally
in shipping. He had been a widower many years; a maiden sister, the
aforesaid Miss Abigail, managing his household. Miss Abigail also
managed her brother, and her brother's servant, and the visitor at her
brother's gate--not in a tyrannical spirit, but from a philanthropic
desire to be useful to everybody. In person she was tall and angular;
she had a gray complexion, gray eyes, gray eyebrows, and generally wore
a gray dress. Her strongest weak point was a belief in the efficacy of
"hot-drops" as a cure for all known diseases.

If there were ever two people who seemed to dislike each other, Miss
Abigail and Kitty Collins were those people. If ever two people really
loved each other, Miss Abigail and Kitty Collins were those people also.
They were always either skirmishing or having a cup of tea lovingly
together.

Miss Abigail was very fond of me, and so was Kitty; and in the course of
their disagreements each let me into the private history of the other.

According to Kitty, it was not originally my grandfather's intention
to have Miss Abigail at the head of his domestic establishment. She had
swooped down on him (Kitty's own words), with a band-box in one hand and
a faded blue cotton umbrella, still in existence, in the other. Clad
in this singular garb--I do not remember that Kitty alluded to--any
additional peculiarity of dress--Miss Abigail had made her appearance at
the door of the Nutter House on the morning of my grandmother's funeral.