The solitude in which Miss Ludington lived had become, through habit, so
endeared to her that when, a few years after she had been settled in her
ghostly village, a cousin died in poverty, bequeathing to her with his
last breath a motherless infant boy, it was with great reluctance that
she accepted the charge. She would have willingly assumed the support of
the child, but if it had been possible would have greatly preferred
providing for him elsewhere to bringing him home with her. This, however,
was impracticable, and so there came to be a baby in the old maid's
house.

Little Paul De Riemer was two years old when he was brought to live with
Miss Ludington--a beautiful child, with loving ways, and deep, dark,
thoughtful eyes. When he was first taken into the sitting-room, the
picture of the smiling girl over the fireplace instantly attracted his
gaze, and, putting out his arms, he cooed to it. This completed the
conquest of Miss Ludington, whose womanly heart had gone out to the
winsome child at first sight.

As the boy grew older his first rational questions were about the pretty
lady in the picture, and, he was never so happy as when Miss Ludington
took him upon her knee and told him stories about her for hours together.

These stories she always related in the third person, for it would only
puzzle and grieve the child to intimate to him that there was anything in
common between the radiant girl he had been taught to call Ida and the
withered woman whom he called Aunty. What, indeed, had they in common but
their name? and it had been so long since any one had called her Ida,
that Miss Ludington scarcely felt that the name belonged to her present
self at all.