There was one part of her experience, however, that Elizabeth passed over
lightly, and that was the meeting with George Trescott Benedict.
Instinctively she felt that this experience would not find a sympathetic
listener. She passed it over by merely saying that she had met a kind
gentleman from the East who was lost, and that they had ridden together
for a few miles until they reached a town; and he had telegraphed to his
friends, and gone on his way. She said nothing about the money he had lent
to her, for she shrank from speaking about him more than was necessary.
She felt that her grandmother might feel as the old woman of the ranch had
felt about their travelling together. She left it to be inferred that she
might have had a little money with her from home. At least, the older
woman asked no questions about how she secured provisions for the way.

When Elizabeth came to her Chicago experience, her grandmother clasped her
hands as if a serpent had been mentioned, and said: "How degrading! You
certainly would have been justified in shooting the whole company. I
wonder such places are allowed to exist!" But Marie sat with large eyes of
wonder, and retailed the story over again in the kitchen afterwards for
the benefit of the cook and the butler, so that Elizabeth became
henceforth a heroine among them.

Elizabeth passed on to her Philadelphia experience, and found that here
her grandmother was roused to blazing indignation, but the thing that
roused her was the fact that a Bailey should serve behind a counter in a
ten-cent Store. She lifted her hands, and uttered a moan of real pain,
and went on at such a rate that the smelling-salts had to be brought into
requisition again.

When Elizabeth told of her encounter with the manager in the cellar, the