watched the movements of the flashily dressed middle-aged woman with the deepest interest. When she saw her speak to Dorcas, she hastily directed one of her apprentices to run after the young woman whom Mrs. Burros was speaking to, and tell her to come back, as she wished to see her.

But Mrs. Burras was too shrewd to be taken at such an advantage. She had suffered much from detraction and backbiting . in her time; and having a habit of inspecting her rear, one of the glances which she oast over her shoulder betrayed to her the approach of the milliner’s emissary.

Stepping back a few paces, therefore, she said to the child, m a low but emphatic tone, * Tell Mrs. Macy not to concern herself about the French flowers for my hat.-; I think I shall wear cut velvet and a feather. Mrs. Watson has a splendid assortment of that description, and as all my girls talk of getting suited there, 1 may perhaps be obliged to go to her. Tell Mrs. Macy, however, that I shall manage to stop in and see her this afternoon before I decide. There now, mv dear, run back; I have some conversation with this young lady, and do not wish to be distuibed.” Having despatched the apprentice with this significant message, Mrs. Burras whisked round in her rustling sheen, and twitched back to Dorcas with a ” marry come up” sort of an air, which was sufficiently dashed with a look of vulgar triumph, to betray, even to her inexperienced companion, that Mrs. Burras was conscious of having carried a point .

Mrs. Burras and her young companion then proceeded on, and in the course of a long walk towards the west part of the town, she engaged Dorcas, or rather Maria Stanley, as the young adventuress now called herself, to do the plain sewing for her family, at the rate of four dollars a week and board, stating that the engage ment would extend to the duration of four or five weeks; and if she proved of superior service, her wages would be increased to a dollar more.

These terms were readily accepted by Dorcas ; and by the time the conditions were duly • settled, she arrived with her dashing employer at a neat two-story brick house, which that lady informed her was the place of her abode.

On ascending the stoop, Dorcas was rather surprised to observe that the door of the house was deeply indented in various places, as if it had been beaten with a hammer, or accustomed to the visitation of showers of stones; but not being able to account for this by the extremeat reach of fancy, she gave up the cogitation. She noticed too, that an extreme caution was observed in relation to their admission; and when, after a delay of some minutes, which i;emed to give Mrs. Burras no uneasiness, the door was opened by a full-blown figure in gaudy silk, with its hair dishevelled and its dress unhooked, as if it had just ran from its chamber, the young seamstress had occasion to remark privately to herself, that this one of Mrs. Burras’ nieces gave nnmistakeable evidence, in the crimson trimming of her eyes, to be either very much given to tears, or t> late hours u>d gin toddy.


Helen at eighteenLikeness of Miss Clara— The milliner and the magistrate—A lingular recognition.

Helen Jewett, or Maria Stanley, as she had concluded to call herself on her arrival at Portland, was at this period eighteen years of age. She was a shade below the middle height, but of a form of exquisite symmetry, and which, though voluptuously turned in every perceptible point, was sufficiently dainty in its outline, to give her the full advantage of a medium sta ture to the eye. Her complexion, which in our first chapter we have characterized as a ” strong” one, was that of a clear brown, bearing in it all the voluptuous ardor of that shade, without th» dregs and specks which are too apt to muddy the coarser specimens of the brunette, and which, instead of the promethean fervor, indicate no quality above mere grossness of the blood. Above a forehead of transparent smoothness, and beside a pair of ivory temples in which might be dimly seen a delicate tracery of blue, she trained two heavy waves of glossy jet-black hair, while on the top, that crown of female glory reposed, the richness of an abundant coil. Her features wer» not what might be termed regular, but thero was a harmony in their expression which wag inexpressibly more charming than mere mathematical agreement, or a precise accord. The nose was rather small, which was a fault; the mouth was rather large, but the full richness of its satin lips, and the deep files of ivory infantry which crescented within their rosy lines, redeemed all of its latitudinal excess; while her large black steady eyes, streaming now with glances of precocious knowledge, and anon languishing with meditation or snapping with mischievousness, gave the whole picture a peculiar charm, which, despite of its disagreements, entitled it to the renown of one of the most fascinating faces that ever imperiled a susceptible observer. Added to all these natural gifts, she possessed a nice and discriminating taste for dress, which, aided by a graceful carriage, consisting of a sweet oscillation that seemed rather to woo than to force the air to give it place, served to display those blessings to the best advantage.

In disposition, this lovely creature was equal to her form. She was frank and amiable. He« heart was kind, to excess, to all who required her assistance, though the ardor of her temperament rendered her bosom amenable to the fiercest sentiments of passion. These bursts, however, were fitful, not malevolent, and though unscrupulous while in their first gush of rage, might be turned, by a single well-directed touch, into the viaduct of generous forgiveness In manner she was vivacious and merry, though like all intellectual persons of that description, she was subject to sudden and violent depressions. But these were brief, and the ammal sparkle of her spirits soon triumphed and scintillated over all.

Such was Helen Jewett in her eighteenth

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Tear. Such was she, when, tinder the name of Maria Stanley, she stood for the first time at a brothel door, waiting with Mrs. Hurras, its proprietress, for entrance, under the supposition that that excellent lady intended only to furnish her with occupation as a family seamstress.

The slattern figure which had opened the door for them, commenced, as soon as they had fairly got within the entry, to lodge a heavy wooden bar across the door, and when that work of protection was accomplished, followed them into the parlor. Dorcas, who had been slightly alarmed by this singular proceeding, did not endure the scrutiny of this person without much uneasiness; and she began to wish, as with a cold and intimidating look the bedraggled beauty travelled her from head to foot, after the malicious fashion of an old actress with a debutante, that she had not directed her attention to plain sewing under the patronage of Mrs. Burras.

Observing the embarrassment which this unceremonious observation occasioned to her protege, Mrs. Burras interfered, by introducing the pair together, and ” My niece, Miss Clara,” and ” Miss Stanley,” according to the rules in such cases made and provided, settled into a short retiring crouch that was intended to be, as on the part of our acquaintance it really was, the most approved style of female courtesy.

Miss Clara was a young lady somewhere in the vicinage of twenty-three, though the wear and the rough uses of this world gave her the credentials of a much longer probation. She was what might be termed full-blown, being some five feet ten inches in height, with shortcropped hair, and having a pair of fat pulpy cheeks, which when well rouged, and by candlelight, might give their owner the appearance of bouncing health. The filmy, diaphonous character of her eyelids, however, and the slight thread of inflammation that trimmed their edges, indicated that Miss Clara was somewhat given to drink; while the just perceptible creases of her forehead, made by the frequent pursing of her brows, showed that she had indulged in the emphasis of many a cracking oath. Indeed, a general mannishness seemed to prevail over this singular specimen of the feminine gender; and had it not been for the untempting revelations made by a loose boddice sagging down in front, she might have passed very well for a watchman in disguise.

” From the country, I ‘spose ?” said Miss Clara, with a smile, which vanished the instant she intended u> become a listener.

“No, from Augusta,” timidly replied Miss Stanley.

” Ah, I know a gentleman who belongs to Augusta.”

” What is his name!” asked Dorcas, quickly. “Oh, as for that,” replied Miss Clara, carefully, who saw from the sensitive tone of the young girl’s inquiry, that she had a secret of the heart, ” it don’t much matter • besides, I never betray my friends.”

” Betray! I do not see w\<tt there is to be

Iray in such a matter 1″ said Dorcas, reddening.

” It is a mere affair of acquaintance, I imagine.”

” Perhaps so, and perhaps not!” returned

Miss Clara, with a look of mysterious evasion. ” People cannot be too careful about certain matters 1″ and Miss Clara gathered up tha abundance of her boddice stringently, and endeavored to assume a look if honorable reserve.

Helen felt vexed, nay, slightly indignant, at the cavalier manner in which she was put off; but stimulated by jealous curiosity, she could not refrain from the risk of a further rebuff, by one more question.

” Is he a seafaring man, this gentleman I”

” Yes,” said Clara, reluctantly, as if sh« feH that she was suffering under an escape of coo science.

” And his name begins with an S. ?”

” Well, his name does begin with an S., sur« enough,” replied Clara, turning full upon her agitated questioner with a look of affected surprise. ” But how do you know ” then suddenly checking herself, as if she repented of an intention to say more, she added, ” There, ask me no further questions on that subject; for if you do, I shan’t answer ’em—that’s all!”

At this stage of the conversation, Mrs. Burras, who had stepped for a moment into an adjoining room, returned, and giving Miss Clara an indication by a movement of her head that she was wanted by some one up stairs, she told Dorcas that she must take off her hat.

The fair Augustan, however, had not formed a very favorable opinion of the quarters into which she had been admitted; moreover, she had taken a very orthodox hatred to Miss Clara, and under the press of a mingled sentiment of disgust and apprehension, remarked that she believed she would not stop at present, but would go to her hotel, and having arranged her affairs, return with her baggage.

But Mrs. Burras would not hear to this. She well knew that an unsophisticated girl who had seen the gloomy inside of her mansion only by day-light, and beheld the prison-like fastenings of its main door, would never imperil her liberty by trusting to its walls again; so she feigned astonishment at her prisoner’s change of mind, and told her very flatly that she would not think of letting her wander back alone, to be lost on her way and get astray amid the dangers of the town.

The landlady spoke with some spirit, and just as she had concluded her expression, Dorcas thought she heard a giggling on the head of the stairs, towards which the parlor door stood open, and which giggling, seemed to proceed from the conjunction of a male and female voice. The bewildered girl looked hastily over her shoulder up the stairs, but though the parties had raised their heads out of sight, she was confirmed in her opinion that she had been duped into an interdicted den, and that her struggles against fate were already the subject of merriment and jest among its inmates. Strengthened therefore in her determination not to stay, she repeated with some vigor, though under a mantle of affected mildness, that “she certainly must go back, tapering h«r determinate manner with the apologetic addeoda^jhat her clothes were__sij«wetLabput_her chamber 853” v 6ne~1>ut herself could uut them up, —• —•

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! • I *e* Bow it ia,” said Mrs. Burras, tartly,

* that mischief-making huzzy Clara hae been insulting you in some manner, but I’ll soon find it out and set it all to rights;” and with tliese words, the beldame floundered up-stairs over the same track where the junior comet had a few minutes before trailed its flaring way.

There was the mumble of an excited conversation, muffled by the intervention of some two or three partitions after this, during which-Dorcas felt sorely tempted to steal to the front door, let down the bar and run out, but ere she could muster resolution for that purpose, the old woman trotted back.

” I have found it all out,” said she, laying her hand sympatlu’singly on the young woman’s arm.

• I have found it all out; that devil of a girl, if I must say such a word, has evidently had some intimacy with a gentleman to whom you are attached. She refuses to tell me anything about it, but wait, my child, tixke off your hat and remain with us, and I will find it all out

” for you, before to-morrow morning. Ah, my dear, my dear,” wound up Mrs. Burras, with a supplementary ejaculation, ” you have but little idua of the deception and wickedness of men. There n no remedy for us women but to find era out and pay ’em off in their own coin 1″

Dorcas 4id not respond to this sentiment, but she yielded to the temptations of her jealous craving, and with a prompt courage for which she afterwards became remarkable, resolved to stay and probe the secret’to the bottom. Sumner had resided in Portland for some months; he had passed through it some three or four times, and if it should turn out that he had been false to her, and with one so vulgar as to convict him of a grossly imbruted sense, why it might matter very little with her conscience how she disposed of herself. She suffered herself, therefore, to be introduced to Miss Rosalie and Miss Fanny, the two remaining nieces of Mrs. Burras, and when a gentleman in a blue coat and bright buttons, with a shiny hat cocked sharply over his eyes, was introduced to her as a friend of Rosalie’s, who would see to her baggage and have it safely brought to the house she yielded her consent with a graceful inclination and a smile, the effect of which upon the gentleman in the shiny hat, did not seem to give Miss Rosalie very lively satisfaction.

The packing of the young girl’s trunk, of which Dorcas was obliged to furnish the key that the dresses which she had hung about her chamber at the hotel might be stowed with the rest of her goods, enabled the gentleman with the shiny hat to get a glance at a letter or two, and to find Simmer’s name in full on the fly-leaf of a small pocket volume of Don Juan. Committing this secret to his fliers untie Hiss Rosalie, and she transmitting it to Mrs. Burras, the item was so worked up by that ingenious lady, as to send poor Dorcas weeping to her beo, convinced of her lover’s defection as completely, as if she had been the supervisor of his guilt She did not once feel the twinge of any cross accusation during this review ; but it is the caprice of license never to take its own perversions 40 account, when awing the monstrosities of others.

Mrs. Macy, the well-intentioned milliner, »h« tiad vainly sent her apprentice after DoreM, when she saw Mrs. Burras accost .her in th* street, had determined to make another elfort to save the girl, and she had the less reluctance to revive her exertions, from the fact that on the following day she saw the frail household of the beldame, flaunting in Mrs. \V atson’s cut velvet and feathers. SheJhereiorejcBmbinSxl her philanthropy. mlh_a slighfjJasEef-Tevenge, • ana sent^jn «nonjmqus_nnt«”iira-m»f{istrate, .’ informing him that an innocent young gnj_fiom the coTintjy,.Iiad beett doooyccT mto the bjutliel . of . Betsy Burras, and., that uiiless immediate measures were taken for her rescue, slie wo. i inevitably fall a victim to seduction, or to bt ut&l violence.

In this Christian essay Mrs. Macy did her duty, and she was deserving of credit for it, maugre the little spleen which helped to keep her to the moral purpose. But unfortunately, she did not know the character of the mngii« trate to whom fhe sent her billet.1 It so happened that he was one of the secret patrons of the beldame’s caravanserai; and when he read the missive, he smiled and sucked his teeth over the latent fragments of his dinner; at what he thought the ingenuity of Mrs. Burrai in informing him that she had something on hand worthy of his epicurean inspection. His visit to the house, therefore, was paid thai night, alone, instead of with a posse of officers, and he went with far other sensations than Mrs. Macy, in the innocence of her heart, had credited to his magisterial cognizance.

The magistrate was not the kind of man In make a favorable impression upon a mind gov emed by such .refined and elegant tastes Iip Dorcas Doyen’s. He was coarse, and short, and fat. His head was small and flinty like a pugilist’s, and covered with a crop of close, foxy hair, that resembled the harsh coat of a fighting-terrier. His eyes were vicious, retorted, and twinkling; his cheeks were puffy, aiki around his chops and little puggis-h incur o sprung up a perpetual stubble, which took ao vantage of the absence of the razor, if lei: unreaped even so long as fifteen miiTutes at > time. It was not strange, therefore, that Doi cas, in the face of this temptation, should prov ^ resolute in virtue, and be able to commaixl tears for her indignities. Indeed, she fell n> her interview with this person to nothing below the chaste pattern of Pamela; and thougb ‘ the persevering magistrate did not go to tinfurious lengths of the gallant of that paragon of virtue, he frightened her sufficiently iw double the grief of her condition, and to »• spire her to threaten him and the whole ho’_*ehold with exposure, if she ever should escape* This was an unfortunate threat, for it obliged the mistress of the mansion to see her dish Hjored before she left her walls, as a measure «t safety to herself. In view of this necessity, Mrs. Burras required the magistrate to raise taw seige, and give room for a new gallant to enter the field, guaranteeing to him certain reser-cu rights, in case of the surrender of the citadel, Having accomplished this arrangement, Mn. Burras sent a note to the bank at which DoreM


made the victim of temptations which she h&A successfully resisted, but at the end of that time, while meditating a project of escape, she turned to find beside her in her detested prison, the very protector for her friendlessnees whom she had come to Portland to seek out. It cannot, therefore, surprise us, that she bounded into his arms at once, and refusing to suffer him to leave her until the morning, descended almost insensibly, into the avocations of a professional life of shame.

The entreaties of the poor girl to be remot- . ed from the abominable dwelling in which she had been so long a prisoner to some more eligi’ ble residence, were resisted by the cashier for a time, but nt length yielding to the growing fascination which she exercised over him, he procured a house for her in a remote portion of the town- and established her in most luxurious style. A friend of his, who maintained a similar connection with a young girl whom he had decoyed from home, shared the expenses of the establishment, and his chere amie formed a compamon for the young Augustan.

Though now really not much above the morality of Mrs. Burras’ establishment, Dorcas regarded Mrs. Burras and her demoiselles with ineffable disdain, and in the new ambition of vanity, mid ‘*”‘ “””‘lirffiS Pf n wcll#lled purse, she aspired to lie the beauty of fliVpr’omena le.

TmTappearance oT this”Star upon Hie staid Surface of the town of Portland, of course excited much attention, and soon the residence of the dashing brunette became well known to those of the coxcombs of the town who were sufficiently enterprising to follow to within eveshot of her door. Dorcas revelled in this homage, but by and by the thirst for intrigue betrayed her into more tangible encouragements than mere sidelong glances, and the result was s faux paa^& rupture with her lover, and the

firnption ofher independence.H19th