ated being, from the misfortune of her birth, she despised and
preyed on the society by which she had been oppressed, and loved not her
fellow-creatures, because she had never been beloved. No mother had ever
fondled her, no father or brother had protected her from outrage; and
the man who had plunged her into infamy, and deserted her when she stood
in greatest need of support, deigned not to smooth with kindness the
road to ruin. Thus degraded, was she let loose on the world; and
virtue, never nurtured by affection, assumed the stern aspect of selfish
independence.

This general view of her life, Maria gathered from her exclamations and
dry remarks. Jemima indeed displayed a strange mixture of interest
and suspicion; for she would listen to her with earnestness, and then
suddenly interrupt the conversation, as if afraid of resigning, by
giving way to her sympathy, her dear-bought knowledge of the world.

Maria alluded to the possibility of an escape, and mentioned a
compensation, or reward; but the style in which she was repulsed made
her cautious, and determine not to renew the subject, till she knew
more of the character she had to work on. Jemima's countenance, and
dark hints, seemed to say, "You are an extraordinary woman; but let me
consider, this may only be one of your lucid intervals." Nay, the very
energy of Maria's character, made her suspect that the extraordinary
animation she perceived might be the effect of madness. "Should her
husband then substantiate his charge, and get possession of her estate,
from whence would come the promised annuity, or more desired protection?
Besides, might not a woman, anxious to escape, conceal some of the
circumstances which made against her? Was truth to be expected from one
who had been entrapped, kidnapped, in the most fraudulent manner?"

In this train Jemima continued to argue, the moment after compassion
and respect seemed to make her swerve; and she still resolved not to be
wrought on to do more than soften the rigour of confinement, till she
could advance on surer ground.

Maria was not permitted to walk in the garden; but sometimes, from her
window, she turned her eyes from the gloomy walls, in which she pined
life away, on the poor wretches who strayed along the walks, and
contemplated the most terrific of ruins--that of a human soul. What
is the view of the fallen column, the mouldering arch, of the most
exquisite workmanship, when compared with this living mem