“Idoubtnotyoudeserveit。”repliedhisnewfriend，
　　good-naturedly；“butprayproceed。”
　　“Well，sir，beingnearlyeighteenyearsold，andwell-grown，asyou
　　see。”continuedRobin，drawinghimselfuptohisfullheight，“I
　　thoughtithightimetobegintheworld。Somymotherandsisterput
　　meinhandsometrim，andmyfathergavemehalftheremnantofhis
　　lastyear’ssalary，andfivedaysagoIstartedforthisplace，topay
　　themajoravisit。But，wouldyoubelieveit，sir！Icrossedtheferry
　　alittleafterdark，andhaveyetfoundnobodythatwouldshowme
　　thewaytohisdwelling-only，anhourortwosince，Iwastoldto
　　waithere，andMajorMolineuxwouldpassby。”
　　“Canyoudescribethemanwhotoldyouthis？”inquiredthe
　　gentleman。
　　“O，hewasaveryill-favoredfellow，sir。”repliedRobin，“with
　　twogreatbumpsonhisforehead，ahooknose，fieryeyes-and，what
　　struckmeasthestrangest，hisfacewasoftwodifferentcolors。Do
　　youhappentoknowsuchaman，sir！”
　　“Notintimately。”answeredthestranger，“butIchancedtomeethim
　　alittletimeprevioustoyourstoppingme。Ibelieveyoumaytrust
　　hisword，andthatthemajorwillveryshortlypassthroughthis
　　street。Inthemeantime，asIhaveasingularcuriositytowitness
　　yourmeeting，Iwillsitdownhereuponthesteps，andbearyou
　　company。”
　　Heseatedhimselfaccordingly，andsoonengagedhiscompanionin
　　animateddiscourse。Itwasbutofbriefcontinuance，however，fora
　　noiseofshouting，whichbadlongbeenremotelyaudible，drewso
　　muchnearerthatRobininquireditscause。
　　“Whatmaybethemeaningofthisuproar？”askedhe。“Truly，ifyour
　　townbealwaysasnoisy，Ishallfindlittlesleep，whileIaman
　　inhabitant。”
　　“Why，indeed，friendRobin，theredoappeartobethreeorfour
　　riotousfellowsabroadtonight。”repliedthegentleman。“Youmust
　　notexpectallthestillnessofyournativewoods，hereinour
　　streets。Butthewatchwillshortlybeattheheelsoftheselads，
　　and-“
　　“Ay，andsettheminthestocksbypeepofday。”interruptedRobin，
　　recollectinghisownencounterwiththedrowsylantern-bearer。“But，
　　dearsir，ifImaytrustmyears，anarmyofwatchmenwouldnevermake
　　headagainstsuchamultitudeofrioters。Therewereatleasta
　　thousandvoiceswentuptomakethatoneshout。”
　　“Maynotamanhaveseveralvoices，Robin，aswellastwo
　　complexions？”saidhisfriend。
　　“Perhapsamanmay；butHeavenforbidthatawomanshould！”
　　respondedtheshrewdyouth，thinkingoftheseductivetonesofthe
　　major’shousekeeper。
　　Thesoundsofatrumpetinsomeneighboringstreetnowbecameso
　　evidentandcontinual，thatRobin’scuriositywasstronglyexcited。In
　　additiontotheshouts，heheardfrequentburstsfrommanyinstruments
　　ofdiscord，andawildandconfusedlaughterfilledupthe
　　intervals。Robinrosefromthesteps，andlookedwistfullytowardsa
　　pointwhitherseveralpeopleseemedtobehastening。
　　“Surelysomeprodigiousmerry-makingisgoingon。”exclaimedhe。“I
　　havelaughedverylittlesinceIlefthome，sir，andshouldbesorry
　　toloseanopportunity。Shallwesteproundthecornerbythatdarkish
　　house，andtakeourshareofthefun？”
　　“Sitdownagain，sitdown，goodRobin。”repliedthegentleman，
　　layinghishandontheskirtofthegraycoat。“Youforgetthatwe
　　mustwaithereforyourkinsman；andthereisreasontobelievethat
　　hewillpassby，inthecourseofaveryfewmoments。”
　　Thenearapproachoftheuproarhadnowdisturbedtheneighborhood；
　　windowsflewopenonallsides；andmanyheads，intheattireofthe
　　pillow，andconfusedbysleepsuddenlybroken，wereprotrudedtothe
　　gazeofwhoeverhadleisuretoobservethem。Eagervoiceshailed
　　eachotherfromhousetohouse，alldemandingtheexplanation，which
　　notasoulcouldgive。Half-dressedmenhurriedtowardstheunknown
　　commotion，stumblingastheywentoverthestonesteps，thatthrust
　　themselvesintothenarrowfoot-walk。Theshouts，thelaughter，and
　　thetunelessbray，theantipodesofmusic，cameonwardswith
　　increasingdin，tillscatteredindividuals，andthendenserbodies，
　　begantoappearroundacorneratthedistanceofahundredyards。
　　“Willyourecognizeyourkinsman，ifhepassesinthiscrowd？”
　　inquiredthegentleman。
　　“Indeed，Ican’twarrantit，sir；butI’lltakemystandhere，
　　andkeepabrightlook-out。”answeredRobin，descendingtotheouter
　　edgeofthepavement。
　　Amightystreamofpeoplenowemptiedintothestreet，andcame
　　rollingslowlytowardsthechurch。Asinglehorsemanwheeledthe
　　cornerinthemidstofthem，andclosebehindhimcameabandof
　　fearfulwind-instruments，sendingforthafresherdiscord，nowthatno
　　interveningbuildingskeptitfromtheear。Thenaredderlight
　　disturbedthemoonbeams，andadensemultitudeoftorchesshone
　　alongthestreet，concealing，bytheirglare，whateverobjectthey
　　illuminated。Thesinglehorseman，cladinamilitarydress，and
　　bearingadrawnsword，rodeonwardastheleader，and，byhisfierce
　　andvariegatedcountenance，appearedlikewarpersonified：thered
　　ofonecheekwasanemblemoffireandsword；theblacknessofthe
　　otherbetokenedthemourningthatattendsthem。Inhistrainwerewild
　　figuresintheIndiandress，andmanyfantasticshapeswithouta
　　model，givingthewholemarchavisionaryair，asifadreamhad
　　brokenforthfromsomefeverishbrain，andweresweepingvisibly
　　throughthemidnightstreets。Amassofpeople，inactive，exceptas
　　applaudingspectators，hemmedtheprocessionin；andseveralwomenran
　　alongtheside-walk，piercingtheconfusionofheaviersoundswith
　　theirshrillvoicesofmirthorterror。
　　“Thedouble-facedfellowhashiseyeuponme。”mutteredRobin，with
　　anindefinitebutanuncomfortableideathathewashimselftobear
　　apartinthepageantry。
　　Theleaderturnedhimselfinthesaddle，andfixedhisglance
　　fulluponthecountryyouth，asthesteedwentslowlyby。WhenRobin
　　hadfreedhiseyesfromthosefieryones，themusicianswerepassing
　　beforehim，andthetorcheswerecloseathand；buttheunsteady
　　brightnessofthelatterformedaveilwhichhecouldnotpenetrate。
　　Therattlingofwheelsoverthestonessometimesfounditswayto
　　hisear，andconfusedtracesofahumanformappearedatintervals，
　　andthenmeltedintothevividlight。Amomentmore，andtheleader
　　thunderedacommandtohalt：thetrumpetsvomitedahorridbreath，and
　　thenheldtheirpeace；theshoutsandlaughterofthepeopledied
　　away，andthereremainedonlyauniversalhum，alliedtosilence。
　　RightbeforeRobin’seyeswasanuncoveredcart。Therethetorches
　　blazedthebrightest，therethemoonshoneoutlikeday，andthere，in
　　tar-and-featherydignity，sathiskinsmanMajorMolineux！
　　Hewasanelderlyman，oflargeandmajesticperson，andstrong，
　　squarefeatures，betokeningasteadysoul；butsteadyasitwas，his
　　enemieshadfoundmeanstoshakeit。Hisfacewaspaleasdeath，and
　　farmoreghastly；thebroadforeheadwascontractedinhisagony，so
　　thathiseyebrowsformedonegrizzledline；hiseyeswereredand
　　wild，andthefoamhungwhiteuponhisquiveringlip。Hiswhole
　　framewasagitatedbyaquickandcontinualtremor，whichhispride
　　strovetoquell，eveninthosecircumstancesofoverwhelming
　　humiliation。Butperhapsthebitterestpangofallwaswhenhiseyes
　　metthoseofRobin；forheevidentlyknewhimontheinstant，asthe
　　youthstoodwitnessingthefouldisgraceofaheadgrowngrayin
　　honor。Theystaredateachotherinsilence，andRobin’sknees
　　shook，andhishairbristled，withamixtureofpityandterror。Soon，
　　however，abewilderingexcitementbegantoseizeuponhismind；the
　　precedingadventuresofthenight，theunexpectedappearanceofthe
　　crowd，thetorches，theconfuseddinandthehushthatfollowed，the
　　spectreofhiskinsmanreviledbythatgreatmultitude-allthis，and，
　　morethanall，aperceptionoftremendousridiculeinthewholescene，
　　affectedhimwithasortofmentalinebriety。Atthatmomentavoice
　　ofsluggishmerrimentsalutedRobin’sears；heturnedinstinctively，
　　andjustbehindthecornerofthechurchstoodthelantern-bearer，
　　rubbinghiseyes，anddrowsilyenjoyingthelad’samazement。Thenhe
　　heardapealoflaughterliketheringingofsilverybells；awoman
　　twitchedhisarm，asaucyeyemethis，andhesawtheladyofthe
　　scarletpetticoat。Asharp，drycachinnationappealedtohismemory，
　　and，standingontiptoeinthecrowd，withhiswhiteapronoverhis
　　head，hebeheldthecourteouslittleinnkeeper。Andlastly，there
　　sailedovertheheadsofthemultitudeagreat，broadlaugh，brokenin
　　themidstbytwosepulchralhems；thus，“Haw，haw，haw-hem，hem-haw，
　　haw，haw，haw！”
　　Thesoundproceededfromthebalconyoftheoppositeedifice，and
　　thitherRobinturnedhiseyes。InfrontoftheGothicwindowstoodthe
　　oldcitizen，wrappedinawidegown，hisgrayperiwigexchangedfor
　　anight-cap，whichwasthrustbackfromhisforehead，andhissilk
　　stockingshangingabouthislegs。Hesupportedhimselfonhispolished
　　caneinafitofconvulsivemerriment，whichmanifesteditselfon
　　hissolemnoldfeatureslikeafunnyinscriptiononatomb-stone。Then
　　Robinseemedtohearthevoicesofthebarbers，oftheguestsofthe
　　inn，andofallwhohadmadesportofhimthatnight。Thecontagion
　　wasspreadingamongthemultitude，when，allatonce，itseizedupon
　　Robin，andhesentforthashoutoflaughterthatechoedthroughthe
　　street-everymanshookhissides，everymanemptiedhislungs，but
　　Robin’sshoutwastheloudestthere。Thecloud-spiritspeepedfrom
　　theirsilveryislands，asthecongregatedmirthwentroaringupthe
　　sky！TheManintheMoonheardthefarbellow；“Oh。”quothhe，“the
　　oldearthisfrolicksometonight！”
　　Whentherewasamomentarycalminthattempestuousseaofsound，
　　theleadergavethesign，theprocessionresumeditsmarch。Onthey
　　went，likefiendsthatthronginmockeryaroundsomedeadpotentate，
　　mightynomore，butmajesticstillinhisagony。Ontheywent，in
　　counterfeitedpomp，insenselessuproar，infrenziedmerriment，
　　tramplingallonanoldman’sheart。Onsweptthetumult，andlefta
　　silentstreetbehind。
　　“Well，Robin，areyoudreaming？”inquiredthegentleman，layinghis
　　handontheyouth’sshoulder。
　　Robinstarted，andwithdrewhisarmfromthestoneposttowhich
　　hehadinstinctivelyclung，asthelivingstreamrolledbyhim。His
　　cheekwassomewhatpaleandhiseyenotquiteaslivelyasinthe
　　earlierpartoftheevening。
　　“Willyoubekindenoughtoshowmethewaytotheferry？”saidhe，
　　afteramoment’spause。
　　“Youhave，then，adoptedanewsubjectofinquiry？”observedhis
　　companion，withasmile。
　　“Why，yes，sir。”repliedRobin，ratherdryly。“Thankstoyou，and
　　tomyotherfriends，Ihaveatlastmetmykinsman，andhewillscarce
　　desiretoseemyfaceagain。Ibegintogrowwearyofatownlife，
　　sir。Willyoushowmethewaytotheferry？”
　　“No，mygoodfriendRobin-nottonight，atleast。”saidthe
　　gentleman。“Somefewdayshence，ifyouwishit，Iwillspeedyouon
　　yourjourney。Or，ifyouprefertoremainwithus，perhaps，asyouare
　　ashrewdyouth，youmayriseintheworldwithoutthehelpofyour
　　kinsman，MajorMolineux。”
　　byNathanielHawthorne
　　THEHOURHADCOME-thehourofdefeatandhumiliation-whenSir
　　WilliamHowewastopassoverthethresholdoftheProvinceHouse，and
　　embark，withnosuchtriumphalceremoniesasheoncepromisedhimself，
　　onboardtheBritishfleet。Hebadehisservantsandmilitary
　　attendantsgobeforehim，andlingeredamomentinthelonelinessof
　　themansion，toquellthefierceemotionsthatstruggledinhis
　　bosomaswithadeaththrob。Preferable，then，wouldhehavedeemed
　　hisfate，hadawarrior’sdeathlefthimaclaimtothenarrow
　　territoryofagravewithinthesoilwhichtheKinghadgivenhimto
　　defend。Withanominousperceptionthat，ashisdepartingfootsteps
　　echoedadownthestaircase，theswayofBritainwaspassingforever
　　fromNewEngland，hesmotehisclinchedhandonhisbrow，andcursed
　　thedestinythathadflungtheshameofadismemberedempireuponhim。
　　“WouldtoGod。”criedhe，hardlyrepressinghistearsofrage，
　　“thattherebelswereevennowatthedoorstep！Ablood-stainuponthe
　　floorshouldthenbeartestimonythatthelastBritishrulerwas
　　faithfultohistrust。”
　　Thetremulousvoiceofawomanrepliedtohisexclamation。
　　“Heaven’scauseandtheKing’sareone。”itsaid。“Goforth，Sir
　　WilliamHowe，andtrustinHeaventobringbackaRoyalGovernorin
　　triumph。”
　　Subduing，atonce，thepassiontowhichhehadyieldedonlyin
　　thefaiththatitwasunwitnessed，SirWilliamHowebecameconscious
　　thatanagedwoman，leaningonagold-headedstaff，wasstanding
　　betwixthimandthedoor。ItwasoldEstherDudley，whohaddwelt
　　almostimmemorialyearsinthismansion，untilherpresenceseemed
　　asinseparablefromitastherecollectionsofitshistory。Shewas
　　thedaughterofanancientandonceeminentfamily，whichhadfallen
　　intopovertyanddecay，andleftitslastdescendantnoresource
　　savethebountyoftheKing，noranyshelterexceptwithinthewalls
　　oftheProvinceHouse。Anofficeinthehousehold，withmerelynominal
　　duties，hadbeenassignedtoherasapretextforthepaymentofa
　　smallpension，thegreaterpartofwhichsheexpendedinadorning
　　herselfwithanantiquemagnificenceofattire。TheclaimsofEsther
　　Dudley’sgentlebloodwereacknowledgedbyallthesuccessive
　　Governors；andtheytreatedherwiththepunctiliouscourtesywhichit
　　washerfoibletodemand，notalwayswithsuccess，fromaneglectful
　　world。Theonlyactualsharewhichsheassumedinthebusinessof
　　themansionwastoglidethroughitspassagesandpublicchambers，
　　lateatnight，toseethattheservantshaddroppednofirefromtheir
　　flaringtorches，norleftemberscracklingandblazingonthehearths。
　　Perhapsitwasthisinvariablecustomofwalkingherroundsinthe
　　hushofmidnightthatcausedthesuperstitionofthetimestoinvest
　　theoldwomanwithattributesofaweandmystery；fablingthatshehad
　　enteredtheportaloftheProvinceHouse，noneknewwhence，inthe
　　trainofthefirstRoyalGovernor，andthatitwasherfatetodwell
　　theretillthelastshouldhavedeparted。ButSirWilliamHowe，if
　　heeverheardthislegend，hadforgottenit。
　　“MistressDudley，whyareyouloiteringhere？”askedhe，with
　　someseverityoftone。“Itismypleasuretobethelastinthis
　　mansionoftheKing。”
　　“Notso，ifitpleaseyourExcellency。”answeredthe
　　time-strickenwoman。“Thisroofhasshelteredmelong。Iwillnotpass
　　fromituntiltheybearmetothetombofmyforefathers。Whatother
　　shelteristhereforoldEstherDudley，savetheProvinceHouseorthe
　　grave？”
　　“NowHeavenforgiveme！”saidSirWilliamHowetohimself。“Iwas
　　abouttoleavethiswretchedoldcreaturetostarveorbeg。Takethis，
　　goodMistressDudley。”headded，puttingapurseintoherhands。“King
　　George’sheadonthesegoldenguineasissterlingyet，andwill
　　continueso，Iwarrantyou，evenshouldtherebelscrownJohn
　　Hancocktheirking。Thatpursewillbuyabettershelterthanthe
　　ProvinceHousecannowafford。”
　　“Whiletheburdenofliferemainsuponme，Iwillhavenoother
　　shelterthanthisroof。”persistedEstherDudley，strikingherstaff
　　uponthefloorwithagesturethatexpressedimmovableresolve。“And
　　whenyourExcellencyreturnsintriumph，Iwilltotterintothe
　　porchtowelcomeyou。”
　　“Mypooroldfriend！”answeredtheBritishGeneral-andallhis
　　manlyandmartialpridecouldnolongerrestrainagushofbitter
　　tears。“Thisisanevilhourforyouandme。TheProvincewhichthe
　　Kingintrustedtomychargeislost。Igohenceinmisfortune-
　　perchanceindisgrace-toreturnnomore。Andyou，whosepresentbeing
　　isincorporatedwiththepast-whohaveseenGovernorafter
　　Governor，instatelypageantry，ascendthesesteps-whosewholelife
　　hasbeenanobservanceofmajesticceremonies，andaworshipofthe
　　King-howwillyouendurethechange？Comewithus！Bidfarewellto
　　alandthathasshakenoffitsallegiance，andlivestillundera
　　royalgovernment，atHalifax。”
　　“Never，never！”saidthepertinaciousolddame。“HerewillIabide；
　　andKingGeorgeshallstillhaveonetruesubjectinhisdisloyal
　　Province。”
　　“Beshrewtheoldfool！”mutteredSirWilliamHowe，growing
　　impatientofherobstinacy，andashamedoftheemotionintowhichhe
　　hadbeenbetrayed。“Sheistheverymoralofold-fashioned
　　prejudice，andcouldexistnowherebutinthismustyedifice。Well，
　　then，MistressDudley，sinceyouwillneedstarry，IgivetheProvince
　　Houseinchargetoyou。Takethiskey，andkeepitsafeuntil
　　myself，orsomeotherRoyalGovernor，shalldemanditofyou。”
　　Smilingbitterlyathimselfandher，hetooktheheavykeyofthe
　　ProvinceHouse，anddeliveringitintotheoldlady’shands，drew
　　hiscloakaroundhimfordeparture。AstheGeneralglancedbackat
　　EstherDudley’santiquefigure，hedeemedherwellfittedforsucha
　　charge，asbeingsoperfectarepresentativeofthedecayedpast-of
　　anagegoneby，withitsmanners，opinions，faithandfeelings，all
　　fallenintooblivionorscorn-ofwhathadoncebeenareality，but
　　wasnowmerelyavisionoffadedmagnificence。ThenSirWilliamHowe
　　strodeforth，smitinghisclinchedhandstogether，inthefierce
　　anguishofhisspirit；andoldEstherDudleywaslefttokeepwatchin
　　thelonelyProvinceHouse，dwellingtherewithmemory；andifHope
　　everseemedtoflitaroundher，stillwasitMemoryindisguise。
　　Thetotalchangeofaffairsthatensuedonthedepartureofthe
　　Britishtroopsdidnotdrivethevenerableladyfromherstronghold。
　　Therewasnot，formanyyearsafterwards，aGovernorofMassachusetts；
　　andthemagistrates，whohadchargeofsuchmatters，sawno
　　objectiontoEstherDudley’sresidenceintheProvinceHouse，
　　especiallyastheymustotherwisehavepaidahirelingfortakingcare
　　ofthepremises，whichwithherwasalaboroflove。Andsothey
　　lefthertheundisturbedmistressoftheoldhistoricedifice。Many
　　andstrangewerethefableswhichthegossipswhisperedabouther，
　　inallthechimneycornersofthetown。Amongthetime-wornarticles
　　offurniturethathadbeenleftinthemansiontherewasatall，
　　antiquemirror，whichwaswellworthyofatalebyitself，andperhaps
　　mayhereafterbethethemeofone。Thegoldofitsheavily-wrought
　　framewastarnished，anditssurfacesoblurred，thattheold
　　woman’sfigure，whenevershepausedbeforeit，lookedindistinctand
　　ghostlike。ButitwasthegeneralbeliefthatEsthercouldcausethe
　　Governorsoftheoverthrowndynasty，withthebeautifulladieswhohad
　　onceadornedtheirfestivals，theIndianchiefswhohadcomeuptothe
　　ProvinceHousetoholdcouncilorswearallegiance，thegrim
　　Provincialwarriors，thesevereclergymen-inshort，allthepageantry
　　ofgonedays-allthefiguresthateversweptacrossthebroadplate
　　ofglassinformertimes-shecouldcausethewholetoreappear，and
　　peopletheinnerworldofthemirrorwithshadowsofoldlife。Such
　　legendsasthese，togetherwiththesingularityofherisolated
　　existence，herage，andtheinfirmitythateachaddedwinterflung
　　uponher，madeMistressDudleytheobjectbothoffearandpity；and
　　itwaspartlytheresultofeithersentimentthat，amidallthe
　　angrylicenseofthetimes，neitherwrongnorinsulteverfellupon
　　herunprotectedhead。Indeed，therewassomuchhaughtinessinher
　　demeanortowardsintruders，amongwhomshereckonedallpersonsacting
　　underthenewauthorities，thatitwasreallyanaffairofnosmall
　　nervetolookherintheface。Andtodothepeoplejustice，stern
　　republicansastheyhadnowbecome，theywerewellcontentthatthe
　　oldgentlewoman，inherhooppetticoatandfadedembroidery，should
　　stillhauntthepalaceofruinedprideandoverthrownpower，the
　　symbolofadepartedsystem，embodyingahistoryinherperson。So
　　EstherDudleydweltyearafteryearintheProvinceHouse，still
　　reverencingallthatothershadflungaside，stillfaithfultoher
　　King，who，solongasthevenerabledameyetheldherpost，mightbe
　　saidtoretainonetruesubjectinNewEngland，andonespotofthe
　　empirethathadbeenwrestedfromhim。
　　Anddidshedwellthereinutterloneliness？Rumorsaid，notso。
　　Wheneverherchillandwitheredheartdesiredwarmth，shewaswont
　　tosummonablackslaveofGovernorShirley’sfromtheblurredmirror，
　　andsendhiminsearchofguestswhohadlongagobeenfamiliarin
　　thosedesertedchambers。Forthwentthesablemessenger，withthe
　　starlightorthemoonshinegleamingthroughhim，anddidhiserrandin
　　theburialground，knockingattheirondoorsoftombs，oruponthe
　　marbleslabsthatcoveredthem，andwhisperingtothosewithin：“My
　　mistress，oldEstherDudley，bidsyoutotheProvinceHouseat
　　midnight。”AndpunctuallyastheclockoftheOldSouthtoldtwelve
　　cametheshadowsoftheOlivers，theHutchinsons，theDudleys，allthe
　　grandeesofaby-gonegeneration，glidingbeneaththeportalinto
　　thewell-knownmansion，whereEsthermingledwiththemasifshe
　　likewisewereashade。Withoutvouchingforthetruthofsuch
　　traditions，itiscertainthatMistressDudleysometimesassembleda
　　fewofthestanch，thoughcrestfallen，oldtories，whohadlingeredin
　　therebeltownduringthosedaysofwrathandtribulation。Outofa
　　cobwebbedbottle，containingliquorthataroyalGovernormighthave
　　smackedhislipsover，theyquaffedhealthstotheKing，andbabbled
　　treasontotheRepublic，feelingasiftheprotectingshadowofthe
　　thronewerestillflungaroundthem。But，drainingthelastdropsof
　　theirliquor，theystoletimorouslyhomeward，andanswerednotagain
　　iftherudemobreviledtheminthestreet。
　　YetEstherDudley’smostfrequentandfavoredguestswerethe
　　childrenofthetown。Towardsthemshewasneverstern。Akindlyand
　　lovingnature，hinderedelsewherefromitsfreecoursebyathousand
　　rockyprejudices，lavisheditselfupontheselittleones。Bybribesof
　　gingerbreadofherownmaking，stampedwitharoyalcrown，shetempted
　　theirsunnysportivenessbeneaththegloomyportaloftheProvince
　　House，andwouldoftenbeguilethemtospendawholeplaydaythere，
　　sittinginacircleroundthevergeofherhooppetticoat，greedily
　　attentivetoherstoriesofadeadworld。Andwhentheselittleboys
　　andgirlsstoleforthagainfromthedarkmysteriousmansion，they
　　wentbewildered，fullofoldfeelingsthatgraverpeoplehadlong
　　agoforgotten，rubbingtheireyesattheworldaroundthemasif
　　theyhadgoneastrayintoancienttimes，andbecomechildrenofthe
　　past。Athome，whentheirparentsaskedwheretheyhadloiteredsucha
　　wearywhile，andwithwhomtheyhadbeenatplay，thechildrenwould
　　talkofallthedepartedworthiesoftheProvince，asfarbackas
　　GovernorBelcherandthehaughtydameofSirWilliamPhipps。It
　　wouldseemasthoughtheyhadbeensittingonthekneesofthese
　　famouspersonages，whomthegravehadhiddenforhalfacentury，and
　　hadtoyedwiththeembroideryoftheirrichwaistcoats，orroguishly
　　pulledthelongcurlsoftheirflowingwigs。“ButGovernorBelcherhas
　　beendeadthismanyayear。”wouldthemothersaytoherlittleboy。
　　“AnddidyoureallyseehimattheProvinceHouse？”“Ohyes，dear
　　mother！yes！”thehalf-dreamingchildwouldanswer。“Butwhenold
　　Estherhaddonespeakingabouthimhefadedawayoutofhischair。”
　　Thus，withoutaffrightingherlittleguests，sheledthembythe
　　handintothechambersofherowndesolateheart，andmadechildhood’s
　　fancydiscerntheghoststhathauntedthere。