Old Pittsburg did not vanish with the little girl, however. But she went on her way steadily, industriously. The new century came in with great acclaim. Shipbuilding prospered. Iron foundries sprang up. The glass works went from the eight pots and the capacity of three boxes at a blowing to double that number, then doubled it again. The primitive structure erected by George Anshuts before the century ended was the progenitor of many others sending their smoke defiantly up in the clear sky. And all along the Monogahela valley as well as in other places the earth gave up its stores of coal as it had given up its stores of iron. And in 1816 Pittsburg was incorporated as a city and had a mayor and aldermen and her own bank. It was a new Pittsburg then, a hive of human industry, where one business after another gathered and where fortunes were evolved from real work, and labor reaps a rich reward. There are not many of the old things left. The block house built in 1764 by Colonel Bouquet still stands. A great depot covers the site of the ancient Fort, and the spot of Braddock's defeat. But there are Duquesne Heights, all her hills have not been levelled, if most of the old things have passed away. She is the workshop of the world now, one writer calls her "the most unique city in the world." And she has not neglected the finer arts of beautifying. She has magnificent buildings, fine libraries, and cultivated people, musical societies, and half a hundred benevolent institutions. And we must not forget that in six days after the firing on Fort Sumter a company of Pittsburgers marched to Washington and offered their services to the secretary of war. If the little girl had vanished, Daffodil Bartram found much happiness in the new home. M. de Ronville was not only delighted, but grateful over his two children who were not of kindred blood, but of the finer and higher kin of love. There came children to the household, three boys and one golden-haired girl, but he did not quite reach the years of his friend Duvernay. And when the two older sons were grown they cast their lot with Allegheny City, which in the course of time grew into a lovely residential city, free from smoke and dust and noise, and theirs proved a noble patrimony. The Bartrams still had a son and daughter, and the journey to Pittsburg no longer had to be made in a stage coach. Felix Duvernay Carrick made one of the notable citizens of the town, the author of several useful inventions and a most thriving business man, not needing any of his sister's fortune, for grandad left him one, beside the one he was making with his brains and industry. And Barbe was a happy grandmother to a merry flock, but she would never leave the old house, though the farm was cut up by streets and houses crowded in upon them. And she kept her bed of daffodils to the very last.