She was a pretty, graceful woman, gentle and intelligent--worthy of a far better lot than had fallen to her share.

She ought to have married a well-to-do tradesman, for whom she would have made a most suitable wife; but she had given her love to a handsome ne'er do well, with whom she had never had one moment of peace or happiness.

Henry Dornham had never borne a good character; he had a dark, handsome face--a certain kind of rich, gypsy-like beauty--but no other qualifications.

He was neither industrious, nor honest, nor sober.

His handsome face, his dark eyes, and rich curling hair had won the heart of the pretty, graceful, gentle lady's-maid, and she had married him--only to rue the day and hour in which she had first seen him.
They lived in a picturesque little cottage called Ashwood, and there Margaret Dornham passed through the greatest joy and greatest sorrow of her life.