Adventureress

Again, if we have dangerovs^([sic]) men in the humblest ranks, we have adventureresses of late years in all ranks.

I’ll foil them though, the mean adventureresses!

And now from Dayton we hear concerning the operations of a notorous^([sic]) adventureress and impostor hailing from this place, who has been repeatedly exposed. […] A letter addressed to Deacon ⸻ of that place, by a person who doubted the young woman’s story, brought the information, on Tuesday, that she is a wandering adventureress who is playing the paralysis dodge in order to make money.

It is said that there are 60,000 “adventureresses.” “Adventureress” means almost anything.

Some months ago, writes a Paris correspondent, a couple of adventureresses were arrested for having worked a matrimonial agency, which was in reality an effective machinery for decoying men on the lookout for rich wives.

It sticks to the novel closely and makes the heroine, “Lena Despard,” an adventureress of desperate wickedness.

Woe to the financier who confides his money affairs to frail female ears; to the diplomat or public functionary, civil or military, who blabs out office secrets, or makes use of the supposed influence of one or any of these adventureresses.

Mollie claims that she was enticed away from her home by Charles Burton, but the young man declares that she is an adventureress and is merely trying to work him for money.