a pretense of friendship. Those in trouble or in need of sympathy knew that no truer friend, no kindlier-hearted woman ever lived. Her life was not all sunshine, yet she never turned the shadow to the world. The public knew nothing of her sorrows, for, with too much true pride to air personal matters, she never resorted to personal explanations, deeming mere words puny weapons to vindicate from charges which the whole tenor of her life contradicted. Perhaps if sorrows had not come she would have been less a conqueror. Disappointment may have been the path to victories; as conflict roused her best and highest powers, so trials may have given them direction.
The acquaintance with Henry Shimer began in 1855. He was a stonemason, and assisted in building during the panic, but his ambition, his mental ability, his energy and enthusiasm, his interest in science, his efforts in self improvement, his zeal in church work, won more than a passing interest and approbation from his employer, and they were married in December, 1857. Although an instructor and lecturer in the school for several years, he was never a copartner in any of the responsibilities, burdens, or interests of the school. His tastes and predilections developed in directions opposite to hers, his ideals being egoistic, and his ambitions finding complete gratification in his own personal lines of work—his profession and scientific investigations. Another disappointment culminated in 1871, when the partnership with Miss Gregory was dissolved by her withdrawal. Notwithstanding Mrs. Shimer's great strength of character and apparent independence, being as intense in her attachments as in her work, she was particularly dependent on some one to love, some object of her affections who would reciprocate with sympathetic companionship. Therefore, to be left with the entire responsibility of the school, to undergo the ordeal of public comment and interpretation, with no one on whom she could rely for encouragement or counsel, or to whom she could turn with an assurance of sympathy and congenial companionship—this was the darkest hour of her life.
It was not toil or responsibility or doubt of success, but disappointment and the sense of isolation and utter loneliness which seemed greater than she could bear. She sought respite from a
