“Because of this intercourse she came to know many, many sailors, and since she was one of those whom sorrow teaches, they trusted her and came to her in trouble, and brought her their joys, too. She was the friend to all, and since she had a liberal soul and a well-filled purse, she was enabled to help many a poor man in straits, and to send him on his way with a strengthened heart.
“At length, old age came upon her. She leaned upon a stick when she walked, and she must needs be wrapped in the rich shawls brought her from far lands, when she sat upon the galleries. But still her eyes were bright, and they were always seeking, seeking, and her voice was sweet though it quavered as she leaned over her gallery’s edge to question the men who came up from the ships.
“‘She will never hear from Samuel Bings this side heaven,’ the sailor men fell into the way of saying. And now she was so venerable, and her sad story was so widely known, that men coming to the port for the first time would question if she was yet to be seen, and they would salute as they approached, and would wait to hear the questions that she asked. She was to them like a ballad of true love, or a chant grown dear with use. Indeed, they made songs about her, and when they argued for true love, they were able to point to her. They venerated her silver hair, which had once been golden, and it was to the glory of Norfolk that she lived there.
“Then, one day as she sat in the sunshine, watching the harbor and noting the ships and the busy throng upon the wharves, and all the business that had become to her as her very life, an old, bent man, a sailor by his walk and dress, came shambling up the street. She never had seen him before, but no sooner had her eyes fallen upon him than her heart gave a great leap.
“‘Come to me,’ she called to the faithful servant who had been her companion since the days when she was a bride. ‘Come to me and hold me by the arm, for I must question yonder man.’
“So the maid supported her, and Mistress Bings got to the balustrade of her balcony, and leaning over it, called to the old stranger.
“‘Your pardon sir, but have you been traveling long and far?’
“The man lifted his cap, and as well as he could for his bent back, he looked up at the silver-haired lady on the balcony above him.
“‘Long and far, madam,’ he answered.
“‘Then I beg you of your goodness to come up here and talk with me a while.’