e."

The recital of such sufferings and anxieties as these; endured, too, by
a young and lonely woman, affected me powerfully. My excited imagination
was engaged in comparing the Mrs. Greyfield I saw before me, wearing her
nearly fifty years with dignity and grace, full of a calm and ripe
experience, still possessing a dark and striking beauty, with the
picture she had given me of herself at twenty-three. What a wonder it
was that with her lively temperament either for pain or pleasure; with
her beauty and her helplessness, she had come out of the furnace
unscathed, as she now appeared.

"How could you," I said, with a feeling of deep disgust, "how _could_
you allow such a man to remain in your house?"

"How could I get him out? We were legally married, so far as anybody in
Oregon knew, except himself. Everybody presumed us to be living amicably
together. He was careful to act the courteous gentleman to me in the
presence of others. If we never went out together, it was easily
explained by reference to my numerous household cares, and Benton's
frequent illness. As I before said, no one could understand the position
who had not been in it. I could not send him away from me; nor could I
go away from him. He would have followed me, he said, to the 'ends of
the earth.' Besides, where could I go? There was nothing for me but to
endure until the answer to my letter came. Never was letter so anxiously
desired as that one; for, of course, I fully expected that whatever news
it contained, would bring relief in some way. But I had made up my mind
to his guilt, rightly judging that, had he been innocent, he would
either have found means to satisfy me, or have gone away and left me
altogether.

"It had been six or seven months since my marriage. I had a large family
of boarders to cook for, and Benton giving me a great deal of worry,
fearing I should lose him. Working hard all day, and sleeping very
little nights, with constant excitement and dread, had very much
impaired my health. My boarders of ten said to me: 'Mrs. Seabrook, you
are working too hard; you must make Mr. Seabrook get you a cook.' What
could I say in return, except to force a smile, and turn the drift of
the conversation? Once, carried away with indignation, I replied that
'Mr. Seabrook found it as much as _he_ could do to collect the money I
earned!'"

"And you were set down at once as a vixen!" I said, smiling.

"Well, they were not expected to know how ma