cried in
anguish of spirit, 'why have I been put to this test?' The next instant
I was working with might and main to extinguish the fire, which with the
aid of blankets and a pitcher of water was soon suppressed.

"Through it all he slept on, breathing heavily, an object of disgust to
my senses and my feelings. When all was safe I returned to my room,
thankful that I had been able on the spot to expiate my murderous
impulses. The next day he took occasion to say to me, 'I shouldn't have
expected a visit of mercy from you, Mrs. Seabrook. If I had known you
were coming, I should have tried to keep awake!' 'If ever you refer to
such a subject again,' I replied, 'I will set fire to you myself, and
let you burn;' and either the threat deterred him, or some spark of
generosity in his nature was struck by the benefit received, but he
never afterwards offered me any annoyance of that kind."

"How did Mr. Seabrook usually treat your son? Was he kind to him?"

"He was not unkind. Perhaps you cannot understand such a character; but
he was one who would be kind to man, woman, or child who would be
governed by him; yet resistance to his will, however just, roused a
tyranny that sought for opportunities to exhibit itself. Such a one
passes in general society for a 'good fellow,' because 'the iron hand in
the velvet glove' is scarcely perceptible there, while its ungloved
force is felt most heavily in the relations of private life. If I had
been in a position to flatter Mr. Seabrook, undoubtedly he would have
shown me a corresponding consideration, notwithstanding his selfishness.
It would have been one way of gratifying his own vanity, by putting me
in a humor to pander to it. But knowing how I hated and despised him, he
felt toward me all the rancor of his vain and tyrannical nature. It is
always more dangerous to hate justly than unjustly, and that is the
reason why domestic differences are so bitter. Somebody has always done
wrong and knows it, and cannot bear to suffer the natural
consequences--the disapprobation of the injured party, in addition to
the stings of conscience."

"I suppose, then," I said, "it has been the perception of this truth that
has caused the sweetest and purest women in all time to ignore the baser
sins of man, while calling their own sex to strict account. And yet I
cannot think but that this degree of mercy is injurious to their own
purity and derogatory to their dignity. I remember being excessively