--why he
had given us our individual natures, since there was forever this
necessity of being paired!"

"Yet you had loved your husband?"

"I had never ceased to love him!--and that was just what these people
could not understand. Death cut _them_ loose from everything, and they
were left with only strong desires, and no sentiment to sanctify them.
That I should love a dead husband, and turn with disgust from a living
one, was inexplicable to them."

"My dear, I think I see the rock on which you wrecked your happiness."
For the moment I had forgotten what she had told me in the beginning,
that Seabrook had married her illegally; and was imagining her married
to a living husband, and loving only the memory of one dead. She saw my
error, and informed me by a look. Pushing away the intervening table
with its diminished contents, and renewing the fire, Mrs. Greyfield
proceeded:

"It would take too long to go over the feelings of those times, and
assign their causes. You are a woman that can put yourself in my place,
to a great extent, though not wholly; for there are some things that
cannot be imagined, and only come by experience."

"Benton was two years and a half old; a very delicate child, suffering
nearly all the time with chills and fever. I had occasional attacks of
illness from the malaria, always to be met with on the clearing up of
low-lands near a river. Still I was able to sew enough to keep a shelter
over our heads, and bread in our mouths, until I had been a year in
Portland. But I could not get ahead in the least, and was often very low
spirited. About this time I made the acquaintance of Mr. Seabrook. He
was introduced to me by a mutual acquaintance, and having a little
knowledge of medicine, gave me both advice and remedies for Benton. He
used to come in quite often, and look after the child, and praise my
housekeeping, which probably was somewhat better than that of the
average pioneer of those days. He never paid me any silly compliments,
or disturbed my tranquillity with love-making of any sort. Just for that
reason I began to like him. He was twelve or fifteen years older than
myself; and more than ordinarily fine-looking and intelligent. You have
no idea, because you have never been so placed, what a comfort it was to
me to have such a friend."

"Yes, I think I know."

"One day he said to me, 'Mrs. Greyfield, this sitting and sewing all day
is bad for your health. Now, I should think, being so