We were looking in from the porch, on this scene of rural peace and faultless neatness, when an inner door opened in the deliberate manner that betokens age, and the mistress of the cottage-appeared.  She was a woman approaching seventy, of middle size, a quiet but firm step, and an air of health.  Her dress was of the fashion of the previous century, plain, but as neat as everything around her—­a spotless white apron seeming to bid defiance to the approach of anything that could soil its purity.  The countenance of this old woman certainly did not betoken any of the refinement which is the result of education and good company; but it denoted benevolence, a kind nature, and feeling.  We were saluted without surprise, and invited in, to be seated.

“It isn’t often that sloops anchor here,” said the old woman-lady, it would be a stretch of politeness to call her—­their favour_yte_ places being higher up, and lower down, the river.”

“And how do you account for that, mother?” asked Marble, who seated himself and addressed the mistress of the cottage with a seaman’s frankness.  “To my fancy, this is the best anchorage I ’ve seen in many a day; one altogether to be coveted.  One might be as much alone as he liked, in a spot like this, without absolutely turning your bloody hermit.”

The old woman gazed at Marble like one who scarce know what to make of such an animal; and yet her look was mild and indulgent.

“I account for the boatmen’s preferring other places to this,” she said, “by the circumstance that there is no tavern here; while there is one two miles above, and another two miles below us.”

“Your remark that there is no tavern here, reminds me of the necessity of apologizing for coming so boldly to your door,” I answered; “but we sailors mean no impertinence, though we are so often guilty of it in landing.”

“You are heartily welcome.  I am glad to see them that understand how to treat an old woman kindly, and know how to pity and pardon them that do not.  At my time of life we get to learn the value of fair words and good treatment, for it’s only a short time it will be in our power to show either to our fellow-creatures.”

“Your favourable disposition to your fellows comes from living all your days in a spot as sweet as this.”

“I would much rather think that it comes from God.  He alone is the source of all that is good within us.”

“Yet a spot like this must have its influence on a character.  I dare say you have lived long in this very house, which, old us you profess to be, seems to be much older than yourself.  It has probably been your abode ever since your marriage?”

“And long before, sir.  I was born in this house, as was my father before me.  You are right in saying that I have dwelt in it ever since my marriage, for I dwelt in it long before.”

“This is not very encouraging for my friend here, who took such a fancy to your cottage, as we came ashore, as to wish to own it; but I scarce think he will venture to purchase, now he knows how dear it must be to you.”