Mrs. Rosebrook cares little for Mr. Seabrook’s very learned opinion, knowing that learned opinions are not always the most sensible ones, and is seen arranging her bonnet hastily in a manner betokening her intention to make a bold front of it at the slave-mart.  This is rather too much for Mr. Seabrook, who sets great value on his chivalrous virtues, and fearing they may suffer in the esteem of the softer sex, suddenly proffers his kind interposition, becomes extremely courteous, begs she will remain quiet, assuring her that no stone that can further her wishes shall be left unturned.  Mr. Seabrook (frequently called the gallant colonel) makes one of his very best bows, adjusts his hat with exquisite grace, and leaves to exercise the wisest judgment and strictest faith at the man-market.

“Such matters are exceedingly annoying to gentlemen of my standing,” says Mr. Seabrook, as deliberately he proceeds to the fulfilment of his promise.  He is a methodical gentleman, and having weighed the matter well over in his legal mind, is deeply indebted to it for the conclusion that Mrs. Rosebrook has got a very unsystematised crotchet into her brain.  “The exhibition of sympathy for ’niggers’-they’re nothing else” says Mr. Seabrook-"much adds to that popular prejudice which is already placing her in an extremely delicate position.”  He will call to his aid some very nice legal tact, and by that never-failing unction satisfy the good lady.

When Mr. Seabrook enters the mart (our readers will remember that we have already described it) he finds the children undergoing a very minute examination at the hands of several slave-dealers.  As Mr. Forshou, the very polite man-seller, is despatching the rougher quality of human merchandise, our hero advances to the children, about whose father he asks them unanswerable questions.  How interesting the children look!-how like a picture of beauty Annette’s cherub face glows forth!  Being seriously concerned about the child, his countenance wears an air of deep thought.  “Colonel, what’s your legal opinion of such pretty property?” enquires Romescos, who advances to Mr. Seabrook, and, after a minute’s hesitation, takes the little girl in his arms, rudely kissing her as she presses his face from her with her left hand, and poutingly wipes her mouth with her right.

“Pretty as a picture"-Romescos has set the child down-"but I wouldn’t give seven coppers for both; for, by my faith, such property never does well.”  The gentleman shakes his head in return.  “It’s a pity they’re made it out nigger, though,—­it’s so handsome.  Sweet little creature, that child, I declare:  her beauty would be worth a fortune on the stage, when she grows up.”