Her interest in the young girl dated back to her parents.
Bruce Conway had been Grace's first lover, and it is said that a woman's heart always retains a slight tenderness for the lover who was first to worship at her shrine.
On the other hand the girl Bruce Conway had married claimed Mrs. Winans as her dearest friend, and it was through her that little Earle, when kidnaped by a poor mother crazed by the loss of her own child, had been restored to his parents. Now, when gentle, brown-eyed Lulu had been dead for years, her memory was still green in the heart of this true friend, and for her beloved sake Mrs. Winans yearned over Ladybird with inexpressible tenderness.
With her husband's full concurrence in her plans she had come to Rosemont hoping to find pretty Ladybird and adopt her as her own.
For the shadow of orphanage and sorrow had fallen darkly over the little curly, brown head with its will-o'-the-wisp fancies.
In June Bruce Conway had sailed from New York on the Mamaroneck, and all the world knew now that some awful mysterious fate had overtaken the steamer, for she had never reached port nor been sighted during the voyage; and after she had been fully a month overdue her lifeboats had been seen drifting empty on the ocean. It was certain then that the Mamaroneck had been wrecked, but at first it was hoped that the passengers had been rescued from the lifeboats by some other steamer. Alas! weary months had come and gone, and still no tidings of the fifty souls, passengers and crew, of the Mamaroneck. Hope died out in every heart. They were given up for lost. The sea had claimed them for her victims.
To the Winans family the news of the probable death of Bruce Conway came with a shock of pain, and their sympathies turned to the orphaned girl left lonely in the wide world.
Ladybird had kept up at first an occasional correspondence with Precious, but at last it had closed abruptly, and, as the traveling party were always on the wing, her whereabouts were quite unknown to them. But they hoped to find her with her aunt at the pretty cottage home at Rosemont.
But cruel disappointment awaited their inquiries.
Ladybird had indeed returned home in September, but, crushed by the news of her father's death, had drooped and paled like a broken flower.