She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. She whipped round suddenly, and discovered the woman wedged into the corner by the window, keeping out of the way. Perhaps you'll give me in return some token, by which I may remind you of this occurrence, in case we meet again. . ‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes.
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