and reveals to her the heart-burnings of the woman who lives in licentious splendor.  “I have no home, no friend near me, and nowhere to lay my head; and yet I am richer than her;” she says, gazing at the moon, and the stars, and the serene heavens.  And the contemplation brings to her consolation and strength.  She wanders back to the gate of the old prison, resolved to return the gold in the morning, and, was the night not so far spent, ask admittance into the cell her father occupies.  But she reflects, and turns away; well knowing how much more painful will be the smart of his troubles does she disclose to him what has befallen her.

She continues sauntering up a narrow by-lane in the outskirts of the city.  A light suddenly flashes across her path, glimmers from the window of a little cabin, and inspires her with new hopes.  She quickens her steps, reaches the door, meets a welcome reception, and is made comfortable for the night by the mulatto woman who is its solitary tenant.  The woman, having given Maria of her humble cheer, seems only too anxious to disclose the fact that she is the slave and cast-off mistress of Judge Sleepyhorn, on whose head she invokes no few curses.  It does not touch her pride so much that he has abandoned her, as that he has taken to himself one of another color.  She is tall and straight of figure, with prominent features, long, silky black hair, and a rich olive complexion; and though somewhat faded of age, it is clear that she possessed in youth charms of great value in the flesh market.

Maria discloses to her how she came in possession of the money, as also her resolve to return it in the morning.  Undine (for such is her name) applauds this with great gusto.  “Now, thar!” she says, “that’s the spirit I likes.”  And straightway she volunteers to be the medium of returning the money, adding that she will show the hussy her contempt of her by throwing it at her feet, and “letting her see a slave knows all about it.”

Maria fully appreciates the kindness, as well as sympathizes with the wounded pride of this slave daughter; nevertheless, there is an humiliation in being driven to seek shelter in a negro cabin that touches her feelings.  For a white female to seek shelter under the roof of a negro’s cabin, is a deep disgrace in the eyes of our very refined society; and having subjected herself to the humiliation, she knows full well that it may be used against her-in fine, made a means to defame her character.

Night passes away, and the morning ushers in soft and sunny, but brings with it nothing to relieve her situation.  She, however, returns the gold to Anna through a channel less objectionable than that Undine would have supplied, and sallies out to seek lodgings.  In a house occupied by a poor German family, she seeks and obtains a little room, wherein she continues plying at her needle.