m much of this. She relied much, and
with reason, both upon Mr. Greeley's judgment and upon his friendship.
The following extract from a letter to her brother Eugene gives us an
inkling as to her first impressions:--

"The place where we live is old and dilapidated, but in a situation of
great natural loveliness. When there I am perfectly secluded, yet every
one I wish to see comes to see me, and I can get to the centre of the
city in half an hour. Here is all affection for me and desire to make me
at home; and I do feel so, which could scarcely have been expected from
such an arrangement. My room is delightful; how I wish you could sit at
its window with me, and see the sails glide by!

"As to the public part, that is entirely satisfactory. I do just as I
please, and as much and as little as I please, and the editors express
themselves perfectly satisfied, and others say that my pieces _tell_ to
a degree I could not expect. I think, too, I shall do better and better.
I am truly interested in this great field which opens before me, and it
is pleasant to be sure of a chance at half a hundred thousand readers."

The enlargement spoken of above was found by Margaret in her more varied
field of literary action, and in the society of a city which had, even
at that date, a cosmopolitan, semi-European character.

New York has always, with a little grumbling, conceded to Boston the
palm of literary precedence. In spite of this, there has always been a
good degree of friendly intercourse among its busy _litterateurs_ and
artists, who find, in the more vivid movement and wider market of the
larger city, a compensation, if not an equivalent, for its distance from
the recognized centres of intellectual influence.

In these circles Margaret was not only a welcome, but a desired guest.
In the _salons_ of the time she had the position of a celebrity. Here,
as elsewhere, her twofold magnetism strongly attracted some and repelled
others. Somewhat hypercritical and pedantic she was judged to be by
those who observed her at a distance, or heard from her only a chance
remark. Such an observer, admiring but not approaching, saw at times the
look of the sibyl flash from beneath Margaret's heavy eyelids; and once,
hearing her sigh deeply after a social evening, was moved to ask her
why. "Alone, as usual!" was Margaret's answer, with one or two pathetic
words, the remembrance of which brought tears to the eyes of the person
to whom they we