TO MAUDE, who had been traveling most of her life, it must have been unusually hard to have her comings and goings curtailed. Her last trip to Europe was in 1930. After 1941 she went no farther west than Stephens College, and ended her teaching there with the winter of 1949-1950. Her horizon then narrowed to New York, and Tannersville. Even Boston was cut off, though she was always planning to come, just as she liked to talk of "going off as vagabonds" for a "toot" in my car, to motor around New England in the happy way we used to. These plans were not complaints; they served as exercises for her imagination.
Miss Boynton's unexpected death in 1951, when Maude was alone with her in Tannersville on a night of driving snow, was a shock from which it was hard for her to recover. Miss Boynton had gone to her room a little earlier than usual, saying she was tired and would lie down, and carrying with her as usual a glass of milk and some graham crackers. When Maude went in half an hour later to see whether she was all right, she found that she had died.
But Maude's courage was high. She did not even send me word till she was sure that the road up the mountain was cleared and it was safe for me to come. She rallied to her work. Impossible as it seems, she would often begin her writing, as in the old days, at four in the morning. Did she realize as time went on that if her ideas and plans were to find expression, it must be soon?
On one of her last trips to New York she made a quiet visit reported by The New York Times: