uly the
Allwise," she says within herself, "will be my protector, and is
chastising me while consecrating something to my good. Mr. Keepum has
made my father's release the condition of my ruin. But he is but flesh
and blood, and I--no, I am not yet a slave! The virtue of the poor,
truly, doth hang by tender threads; but I am resolved to die struggling
to preserve it." And a light, as of some future joy, rises up in her
fancy, and gives her new strength.

The German family have removed from the house in which she occupies a
room, and in its place are come two women of doubtful character. Still,
necessity compels her to remain in it; for though it is a means resorted
to by Keepum to effect his purpose, she cannot remove without being
followed, and harassed by him. Strong in the consciousness of her own
purity, and doubly incensed at the proof of what extremes the designer
will condescend to, she nerves herself for the struggle she sees before
her. True, she was under the same roof with them; she was subjected to
many inconveniencies by their presence; but not all their flattering
inducements could change her resolution. Nevertheless, the resolution of
a helpless female does not protect her from the insults of heartless
men. She returns home to find that Mother Rumor, with her thousand
tongues, is circulating all kinds of evil reports about her. It is even
asserted that she has become an abandoned woman, and is the occupant of
a house of doubtful repute. And this, instead of enlisting the
sympathies of some kind heart, rather increases the prejudice and
coldness of those upon whom she has depended for work. It is seldom the
story of suffering innocence finds listeners. The sufferer is too
frequently required to qualify in crime, before she becomes an object of
sympathy.

She returns, one day, some work just finished for one of our high old
families, the lady of which makes it a boast that she is always engaged
in "laudable pursuits of a humane kind." The lady sends her servant to
the door with the pittance due, and begs to say she is sorry to hear of
the life Miss McArthur is leading, and requests she will not show
herself at the house again. Mortified in her feelings, Maria begs an
interview; but the servant soon returns an answer that her Missus cannot
descend to anything of the kind. Our high old families despise working
people, and wall themselves up against the poor, whose virtue they
regard as an exceedingly cheap