She was free
once more to lead her own life, and to obtain due recognition for her
ideas and principles. She deplored with a grief which depleted the curve
of her oval cheeks the premature end of her husband's artistic
career--an aspiring soul cut off on the threshold of success--yet,
though of course she never squarely made the reflection, she was aware
that the development of her own life was more intrinsically valuable to
the world than his, and that of the two it was best that he should be
taken. She was sad, sore against Providence, and uncertain as to the
future. But she was keenly conscious that she had a future, and she was
eager to be stirring. Still, for the moment, the outlook was perplexing.
What was she to do? First, and certainly, she desired to shake the dust
of New York from her feet at the earliest opportunity. She inclined
toward Benham as a residence, and to the lecture platform, supplemented
by literature, and perhaps eventually the stage, as a means of
livelihood. She believed in her secret soul that she could act. Her
supposed facility in acquiring the New York manner had helped to
generate that impression. It seemed to her more than probable that with
a little instruction as to technical stage business she could gain fame
and fortune almost at once as an actress of tragedy or melodrama.
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