The older woman paused at this point, and, taking Hope's face between her hands, smoothed her hair, and kissed her.
"Your grandfather had a daughter Mary." "My mother," said Hope, earnestly.
"Your mother, darling.

She was as beautiful but as delicate as a flower.
The doctors said a long salt voyage would strengthen her.

So your grandfather sent her in the ship of one of his friends to India.

In India she staid several weeks, and met a young man of her own age, clerk in a house there.

Of course they were soon engaged.