To diminish our expenses, we concluded to go to housekeeping. My husband rented the only vacant building in the place, a miserable, barn-like shanty, for which he paid the exorbitant sum of thirty dollars per month. Thither we moved ourselves: we had little else to move. Nearly every one contributed some article of domestic use. Our larder was supplied with wild-fowl and beef, also a species of fish which are taken from the numerous streams which intersect the country. They are designated trout, but do not in appearance or flavor resemble our own speckled trout, which by epicures are considered such a nice treat. No kind of vegetables could be procured at any price. The inclemency of the weather, even in summer months, precludes the growth of the most hardy kind. Cold storms{36} of hail and sleet are of frequent occurrence in summer. One gentleman, by inclosing a piece of ground with a high peat wall to shelter it from the cold winds, had managed, by dint of great exertion, to raise a few cabbages. Often, when seated at my window, my attention had been attracted towards a lovely little girl, with soft dark eyes, and long auburn ringlets hanging in rich profusion over her shoulders. She was usually accompanied by a tall, dignified, melancholy-looking individual, who, I afterwards learned, stood in the relation of father. His very countenance, which was seldom irradiated by a smile, bore traces of ineffable sorrow. They would spend hours in sailing around the bay in a fancy yacht, which he kept moored opposite our house. Upon inquiry, I learned that for some time the gossiping and wonder-loving portion of the community had been kept in constant agitation regarding the mystery that surrounded Mr. Montague (for by that name was he known) and his family. He kept himself aloof from all society; and the only servant he kept had never been known to speak an intelligible word to any one. She seemed devotedly attached to her master, and guarded little Myrtie with watchful tenderness. Myrtie came to my door one day,{37} bringing me a basket of nice little fish, and gracefully presented them, saying that she often amused herself by fishing. After that, she became a daily visitor. Daily my interest in that child increased. She was wonderfully endued with intellectual powers for one of her years. One day, she said to me, “Do you know why I brought you those fish? and what brings me every day to see you?” I told her I did not. Said she, “I do so love to look in your face! It makes me feel happy. I always think of some one I loved well, and called mamma. It seems such a long time ago,—so very long,—I sometimes think it was a dream. But, since you came here, I can remember more. I can recollect she looked like you; and, when you smile, you look as she used to, when she would kiss me, and call me her little darling. Oh, I remember how I cried when a tall, dark-looking man snatched me from my mamma’s arms,—how she looked, as she ran screaming after us!