me, I am ready; if she'll leave you, she shall have a home where
she shall be neither bullyd nor starved: no hangry frumps of
sisters, no cross mother-in-law, only an affeckshnat husband, and
all the pure pleasures of Hyming."

Mary flung herself into his arms--"Dear, dear Frederic," says she,
"I'll never leave you."

"Miss," says Mrs. Shum, "you ain't a Slamcoe nor yet a Buckmaster,
thank God. You may marry this person if your pa thinks proper, and
he may insult me--brave me--trample on my feelinx in my own house--
and there's no-o-o-obody by to defend me."

I knew what she was going to be at: on came her histarrix agen, and
she began screechin and roaring like mad. Down comes of course the
eleven gals and old Shum. There was a pretty row. "Look here,
sir," says she, "at the conduck of your precious trull of a
daughter--alone with this man, kissin and dandlin, and Lawd knows
what besides."

"What, he?" cries Miss Betsy--"he in love with Mary. Oh, the
wretch, the monster, the deceiver!"--and she falls down too,
screeching away as loud as her mamma; for the silly creature
fancied still that Altamont had a fondness for her.

"SILENCE THESE WOMEN!" shouts out Altamont, thundering loud. "I
love your daughter, Mr. Shum. I will take her without a penny, and
can afford to keep her. If you don't give her to me, she'll come
of her own will. Is that enough?--may I have her?"