For the girls, because they were colored, there were but few avenues open, but they all took in sewing and were excellent seamstresses, except Lucy, who had gone from home to teach school in a distant city as there were no openings of the kind for her at her own home.

Mrs. Harcourt was very proud of her children and had unbounded confidence in them.  She was high-spirited and self-respecting and it never seemed to enter her mind that any evil might befall the children that would bring sorrow and shame to her home; but nevertheless it came and Lucy, her youngest child, the pet and pride of the household returned home with a great sorrow tugging at her heart and a shadow on her misguided life.  It was the old story of woman’s weakness and folly and man’s perfidy and desertion.  Poor child, how wretched she was till “peace bound up her bleeding heart,” and even then the arrow had pierced too deep for healing.  Sorrow had wasted her strength and laid the foundation of disease and an early death.  Religion brought balm to the wounded spirit, but no renewed vigor to the wasted frame and in a short time she fell a victim to consumption, leaving Annette to the care of her mother.  It was so pitiful to see the sorrow on the dear old face as she would nestle the wronged and disinherited child to her heart and would say so mournfully, “Oh, I never, never expected this!”

Although Annette had come into the family an unbidden and unwelcome guest, associated with the saddest experience of her grandmother’s life, yet somehow the baby fingers had wound themselves around the tendrils of her heart and the child had found a shelter in the warm clasp of loving arms.  To her, Annette was a new charge, an increased burden; but burden to be defended by her love and guarded by her care.  All her other children had married and left her, and in her lowly home this young child with infantile sweetness, beguiled many a lonely hour.  She loved Lucy and that was Lucy’s child.

  But where was he who sullied
    Her once unspotted name;
  Who lured her from life’s brightness
    To agony and shame?

Did society, which closed its doors against Lucy and left her to struggle as best she might out of the depth into which she had fallen, pour any righteous wrath upon his guilty head?  Did it demand that he should at least bring forth some fruit meet for repentance by at least helping Mrs. Harcourt to raise the unfortunate child?  Not so.  He left that poor old grandmother to struggle with her failing strength, not only to bear her own burden, but the one he had so wickedly imposed upon her.  He had left A.P. before Lucy’s death and gone to the Pacific coast where he became wealthy through liquor selling, speculation, gambling and other disreputable means, and returned with gold enough to hide a multitude of sins, and then fair women permitted and even courted his society.  Mothers with marriageable daughters condoned his offences