Sometimes an Englishman, who was studying our national
institutions, would call and have a friendly talk with us at
work. Sometimes it was a traveler from the South, who was
interested in some way. I remember one, an editor and author from
Georgia, who visited our Improvement Circle, and who sent some of
us "Offering" contributors copies of his book after he had
returned home.
One of the pleasantest visitors that I recall was a young Quaker
woman from Philadelphia, a school-teacher, who came to see for
herself how the Lowell girls lived, of whom she had heard so
much. A deep, quiet friendship grew up between us two. I wrote
some verses for her when we parted, and she sent me one cordial,
charmingly-written letter. In a few weeks I answered it; but the
response was from another person, a near relative. She was dead.
But she still remains a real person to me; I often recall her
features and the tone of her voice. It was as if a beautiful
spirit from an invisible world had slipped in among us, and
quickly gone back again.
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