"Here is a cottage close at hand," he observed. "We have ridden far, and
stand in need of refreshment. Ellen, shall we alight?"

She saw the benevolent motive of his proposal, and did not hesitate to
comply with it. But, as they paused at the cottage door, she could not but
observe that its exterior promised few of the comforts which they
required. Time and neglect seemed to have conspired for its ruin; and, but
for a thin curl of smoke from its clay chimney, they could not have
believed it to be inhabited. A considerable tract of land in the vicinity
of the cottage had evidently been, at some former period, under
cultivation, but was now overrun by bushes and dwarf pines, among which
many huge gray rocks, ineradicable by human art, endeavored to conceal
themselves. About half an acre of ground was occupied by the young blades
of Indian-corn, at which a half-starved cow gazed wistfully over the
mouldering log-fence. These were the only agricultural tokens. Edward
Walcott, nevertheless, drew the latch of the cottage door, after knocking
loudly but in vain.

The apartment which was thus opened to their view was quite as wretched as
its exterior had given them reason to anticipate. Poverty was there, with
all its necessary and unnecessary concomitants. The intruders would have
retired had not the hope of affording relief detained them.

The occupants of the small and squalid apartment were two women, both of
them elderly, and, from the resemblance of their features, appearing to be
sisters. The expression of their countenances, however, was very
different. One, evidently the younger, was seated on the farther side of
the large hearth, opposite to the door at which the party stood. She had
the sallow look of long and wasting illness; and there was an unsteadiness