In person she was tall and angular; she had a gray complexion, gray eyes, gray eyebrows, and generally wore a gray dress.

Her strongest weak point was a belief in the efficacy of "hot-drops" as a cure for all known diseases.
If there were ever two people who seemed to dislike each other, Miss Abigail and Kitty Collins were those people.

If ever two people really loved each other, Miss Abigail and Kitty Collins were those people also.
They were always either skirmishing or having a cup of tea lovingly together.
Miss Abigail was very fond of me, and so was Kitty; and in the course of their disagreements each let me into the private history of the other.
According to Kitty, it was not originally my grandfather's intention to have Miss Abigail at the head of his domestic establishment.

She had swooped down on him (Kitty's own words), with a band-box in one hand and a faded blue cotton umbrella, still in existence, in the other.

Clad in this singular garb--I do not remember that Kitty alluded to--any additional peculiarity of dress--Miss Abigail had made her appearance at the door of the Nutter House on the morning of my grandmother's funeral.
The small amount of baggage which the lady brought with her would have led the superficial observer to infer that Miss Abigail's visit was limited to a few days.