upon beings so sensitive of their virtue. With him,
it is a ware of very little value, inasmuch as the moral standard fixed
by a better class of people is quite loose. He rises from his chair with
an air of self-confidence, seizes her by the hand, and attempts to drag
her upon his knee, saying, "you know I can and will make you a lady.
Upon the honor of a gentleman, I love you--always have loved you; but
what stands in the way, and is just enough to make any gentleman of my
standing mad, is this here squeamishness--"

"No! no! go from me. Attempt not again to lay your cruel hands upon me!"
The goaded woman struggles from his grasp, and shrieks for help at the
very top of her voice. And as the neighbors come rushing up stairs, Mr.
Keepum valorously betakes himself into the street. Maddened with
disappointment, and swearing to have revenge, he seeks his home, and
there muses over the "curious woman's" unswerving resolution. "Cruelty!"
he says to himself--"she charges me with cruelty! Well," (here he sighs)
"it's only because she lacks a bringing up that can appreciate a
gentleman." (Keepum could never condescend to believe himself less than
a very fine gentleman.) "As sure as the world the creature is somewhat
out in the head. She fancies all sorts of things--shame, disgrace, and
ruin!--only because she don't understand the quality of our
morality--that's all! There's no harm, after all, in these little
enjoyments--if the girl would only understand them so. Our society is
free from pedantry; and there--no damage can result where no one's the
wiser. It's like stealing a blush from the cheek of beauty--nobody
misses it, and the cheek continues as beautiful as ever." Thus
philosophizes the chivalric gentleman, until he falls into a fast
sleep.

CHAPTER XLI.

IN WHICH JUSTICE IS SEEN TO BE VERY ACCOMMODATING.

A few days have elapsed, Maria has just paid a visit to her father,
still in prison, and may be seen looking in at Mr. Keepum's office, in
Broad street. "I come not to ask a favor, sir; but, at my father's
request, to say to you that, having given up all he has in the world, it
can do no good to any one to continue him in durance, and to ask of
you--in whom the sole power rests--that you will grant him his release
ere he dies?" She addresses Mr. Keepum, who seems not in a very good
temper this morning, inasmuch as several of his best negroes, without
regard to their value to him, got a passion for freedom i