"My beloved Audacia," said Jim, "allow me to remark one little thing, and that is, that _men also_ must be left free to the pursuit of happiness, and also, as the Scripture says, new wine must _not_ be put into old bottles. Now my friend Hal--begging his pardon--is an old bottle, and I think you have already put as much new wine into him as his constitution will bear. And as he and I both have got to make our living by scratching, and _tempus fugit_, and we've got articles to write, and there is always, so to speak, _the devil_ after us folks that write for the press, may I humbly request that you will withdraw the confusing light of your bright eyes from us for the present, and, in short, take your divine self somewhere else?" As Jim spoke these words, he passed his arm round Miss Audacia's waist, and drew her to the door of the apartment, which he threw open, and handed her out, bowing with great ceremony. "Stop!" she cried, "I aint going to be put out that way. I haven't done what I came for. You both of you have got to subscribe for my paper, _The Emancipated Woman_." "Couldn't do it, divinest charmer," said Jim, "couldn't do it; too poor; mill runs low; no water; modest merit not rewarded. Wait till my ship comes in, and I'll subscribe for anything you like." "Well, now, you don't get rid of me that way. I tell you I came in to get a subscription, and I am going to stay till I get one," said Miss Audacia. "Come, Hal," she said, crossing once more to me, and sitting down by me and taking my hand, "write your name there, there's a good fellow." I wrote my name in desperation, while Jim stood by, laughing. "Jim," I said, "come, put yours down quick, and let's have it over." "Well, now," said she, "fork out the stamps--five dollars each." We both obeyed mechanically. "Well, well," said she, good naturally, "that'll do for this time, good morning," and she vanished from the apartment with a jaunty toss of the head and a nod of the cock's feathers in her hat. Jim closed the door smartly after her. "Mercy upon us! Jim," said I, "who, and what is this creature?" "Oh, one of the harbingers of the new millennium," said Jim. "Won't it be jolly when all the girls are like her? But we shall have to keep our doors locked then." "But," said I, "is it possible, Jim, that this is a respectable woman?" "She's precisely what you see," said Jim; "whether that's respectable, is a matter of opinion. There's a woman that's undertaken, in good faith, to run and jostle in all the ways that men run in. Her principle is, that whatever a young fellow in New York could do, she'll do." "Good heavens!" said I, "what _would_ the Van Arsdels think of us, if they should know that she had been in our company?" "It's lucky that they don't, and can't," said Jim. "But you see what you get for belonging to the new dispensation." "Boys, what's all this fuss?" said Bolton, coming in at this moment.