Her life with her first husband had not been a happy one.

She had made the fatal mistake of marrying to please her parents rather than herself, and had repented it ever afterward.

On her husband's death his family had not behaved well to her, and she had passed her widowhood, with her only child, a daughter, in the retirement of a small Scotch town many miles away from the home of her married life.

After a time the little girl's health had begun to fail, and, by the doctor's advice, she had migrated southward to the mild climate of Torquay.

The change had proved to be of no avail; and, rather more than a year since, the child had died.
The place where her darling was buried was a sacred place to her and she remained a resident at Torquay.