But we were not rich enough.

I am ashamed to say that I was nearly thirteen years old before I had learned to read and write correctly.
Four more years passed--and then there came a wonderful event in our lives, which was nothing less than the change from Saint Domingo to England.
My mother was distantly related to an ancient and wealthy English family.

She seriously offended those proud people by marrying an obscure foreigner, who had nothing to live on but his morsel of land in the West Indies.

Having no expectations from her relatives, my mother preferred happiness with the man she loved to every other consideration; and I, for one, think she was right.

From that moment she was cast off by the head of the family.