course, a littly rosy boy burst forth from a door, and ran, with open
arms, towards the ghostly woman, seeming to expect a kiss from her
bloodless lips. She made a slight pause, fixing her eye upon him with
an expression of no earthly sweetness, so that the child shivered and
stood awe-struck, rather than affrighted, while the Old Maid passed
on. Perhaps her garment might have been polluted even by an infant's
touch; perhaps her kiss would have been death to the sweet boy, within
a year.

"She is but a shadow," whispered the superstitious. "The child put
forth his arms and could not grasp her robe!"

The wonder was increased, when the Old Maid passed beneath the porch
of the deserted mansion, ascended the moss-covered steps, lifted the
iron knocker, and gave three raps. The people could only conjecture,
that some old remembrance, troubling her bewildered brain, had
impelled the poor woman hither to visit the friends of her youth; all
gone from their home, long since and forever, unless their ghosts
still haunted it,--fit company for the "Old Maid in the Winding-
Sheet." An elderly man approached the steps, and reverently
uncovering his gray locks, essayed to explain the matter.

"None, Madam," said he, "have dwelt in this house these fifteen years
agone,--no, not since the death of old Colonel Fenwicke, whose funeral
you may remember to have followed. His heirs being ill-agreed among
themselves, have let the mansion-house go to ruin."

The Old Maid looked slowly round, with a slight gesture of one hand,
and a finger of the other upon her lip, appearing more shadow-like
than ever, in the obscurity of the porch. But again she lifted the