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The Seamstress; or, the White Slave of England, etc

George W. M. Reynolds · 1884 · Scanned text

136,522 words · about 9 h 34 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
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Licence: PDM · British Library Digitised Books dataset db14 (doi 10.21250/db14) marks the OCR texts CC Public Domain Mark 1.0 (c. 1510-c. 1900 publications); text+metadata JSONL release doi 10.23636/r7w6-zy15 is CC0 1.0. Public Domain Mark is a status label, not a new copyright licence. · Digitised by the British Library (with Microsoft). Text: British Library Digitised Books, CC Public Domain Mark 1.0.

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About this book

Author
George W. M. Reynolds
Language
English
Published
1884
Length
136,522 words · about 9 h 34 min
Sections
40 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public Domain Mark 1.0

 

Contents (40)
  1. Front matter about 2 min
  2. Chapter I about 16 min
  3. Chapter II. The Velvet Dress about 23 min
  4. Chapter IV. The Duchess about 10 min
  5. Chapter V. Mr about 9 min
  6. Chapter VI. Miss Barnet about 25 min
  7. Chapter VII. The Ball about 16 min
  8. Chapter VIII The Conservatory about 22 min
  9. Chapter X. The Father, The Son, And The Attorney about 20 min
  10. Chapter XI. The Dat After The Ball about 17 min
  11. Chapter XII. Mutual Confidence about 24 min
  12. Chapter XIII about 17 min
  13. Chapter XIV Meditations about 11 min
  14. Chapter XV. The Meeting about 14 min
  15. Chapter XVI. The French Femme-de-chambre about 11 min
  16. Chapter XVII. The Sentence about 13 min
  17. Chapter XVIII. Another Meeting about 12 min
  18. Chapter XIX. The Appointment about 15 min
  19. Chapter XX. The Duke's Daughters about 11 min
  20. Chapter XXI about 8 min
  21. Chapter XXII about 17 min
  22. Chapter XXIII. The Claiming Of The Reward about 11 min
  23. Chapter XXIV. The Ruined Gamester about 9 min
  24. Chapter XXV. The Duke's Machinations about 24 min
  25. Chapter XXVII about 19 min
  26. Chapter XXVIII. Continuation Of The Woes Of The White Slave about 18 min
  27. Chapter XXIX. The Temptations Of The Seamstress about 8 min
  28. Chapter XXX. Sickness about 11 min
  29. Chapter XXXI. The Sign Upon The Cheeks about 17 min
  30. Chapter XXXII. Scene At The Theatre about 9 min
  31. Chapter XXXIII. Mystery And Curiosity about 20 min
  32. Chapter XXXIV. Mr about 16 min
  33. Chapter XXXV. The Choice about 3 min
  34. Chapter XXXVI. The Mother-in-law And The Marquis about 17 min
  35. Chapter XXXVII. Eeteospect Over The Scene In The Conservatory about 19 min
  36. Chapter Xxxviii. The Remaining Explanations about 9 min
  37. Chapter XXXIX about 14 min
  38. Chapter XL about 6 min
  39. Chapter XLI. The Close Of The White Slave's Caeeek about 15 min
  40. Chapter XLII. The Catastrophe about 19 min

Continue:

Front matter

__»•__<_>_=»____*-_; I__)ITIO_.. DICKS' ENGLISH NOVELS. Complete, from the Original Edition— Numerous Illistrations. LONDON: JOHN DICKS, 313, STRAND. PRICE SIXPENCE. AWL': THE GREAT MEDICINE. » &"" ias-fcnt relief in HEADACHE, SEA or BILIOUS ' SICH BESS, COWS IIP ATIOK, IHDIGESTIOH, LASSITUDE, LOW «P^ tTS.HEABTBTJBJf, a__ rBV-KBISH O'.'JJS j|*«T ntl W13 qnickly relieves o; cures tae worst form of TYPHUS SCASLET, and other PEVEBS, SMALL POX, MEASLES, and EBTJPTIVE or SHIBT COMPLAIWTS, and various other altered conditions of the Bloodtestimony of Medical Gentlemen and tho Professional Press ha.- bec_ .miiuttlified in praise o£ LAMPLOUGH'S PYRETIC SALINE. in; most important elements calculated to restore and maintain Health with perfect Vigoar ot Body aud Mind. It is effervescing and Tasteless, and forms a most invigorating, vii ud refreshing beverage.

DE. i*_ *___**"*, " It furnishes the b'.ood with its lost saline constituents." Ba. 1US__7. "I fonnd it act as a specific, i-y_y oxRerience and family, in the wor3t forms of carlet Fever, no other medicine being required." DE. S. GIBUO-T (formerly Physician to the Lonaon Hospital).— "Its usefulness Jent ennrnieu by medical experience. I hare '*»sen in the babit of using it in private . many years. In hot climut *eial value." SB. SPAB.ES (Grovernment Medics [grants from the port of _,ondon) writes *•»—"*_ we rveat pleasure uy cordial testimony to its effi.-acy il sent of many of tho ordinary Gastric Conrplaints and other forms of Fe BE. j. *w. DOWSIHG- — 4'Iu9t,! ,t „ forty-two cases of itllow Fever, and am ippy to st_t.e I never lost a single ere- DE. *W. S_EV__F_. — "Since *_l West India Fevers are deprived of their UK.

AL5Z. MILHE "It 'st combinat les we alighted on that of Cr. Lampiougi.. Its utility as a - '^^ of ohiliiren, such aa cailet Fever, Measles, _cc.; has been testified to by the leading members of tbe profession." . " I prescribe i al-o to my patients frequent' 880. HEB MAJESTY'S BEPH-ESEBTATIVE, THE COVBBHOB OP SXEBBA LEOHE, f request fer an a Pyretic 6 :—" It i» of great value, and _ .all rejoice to hear i* is in the hr ans visiting the tropics." In Pat.: » 'jlass-atoppcred E< ■ ,., 4s. 6d., 11s., and 21s. each. LAMPLOUGH'S CONCENTRATED L.ME JUICE SYRUP. Fruit, as irm ;_«. with the adili; :i!ine, a ng beverag Total Abstainer nvalid; t >v or altered condition of the ■ oppered Bottles, . 6d. each. DR. POWEL'S BALSAMIC LOZENGES. For Coughs, Asthmatic, Bronchial and Consumptive Complaints. ixcellent Lozenges, prepi H. Iiamplough, have for many year? been found of great il use often _ick.s from colds aud inflammation Price " Have them in yonr honses, and forget them not in your travels."

Chapter I

The eyes of this sweet girl were large and of a deep1 blue : without being intensely eloquent, they were full of sensibility, as if the holiest and most melting light of heaven dwelt in their limpid depths. Her nose was perfectly straight, and, with the well-formed forehead, exquisitely-chiselled mouth, and rounded chin, gave a classic outline to her profile. Her lips were of the pure red of the rose ; and, without hyperbolical affectation, it seemed as if the simplest words passing between them must be invested with a charm peculiarly their own. But, oh ! when in some sunshine moment, a smile appeared upon those lips— revealing teeth that were white and even as strings of orient pearls — imparting a slight dimple to the chin — and diffusing over the countenance a radiance that lit up the eyes as with twin-lamps oi" celestial glory, — then was it that this fair being, at other times so sweetly gentle, became suddenly endowed with all that unconscious fascination and winning loveliness which constitute the charming woman.

She was attired in the plainest manner : but in her simple neatness she was more adorned by her own modest. and unassuming loveliness than if the bird-of-paradise had given its plumage to wave above her brow and Golconda its most star-like gems to gleam upon her hair. Her dress, of a dark stuff, ascended to the throat, thus concealing the charms of that bust whose virgin contours the close-fitting corsage nevertheless developed ;— and although not the slightest attempt at unnatural compression was ever made, or even dreamt of, by the young creature, her waist was of the most delicate proportion. In stature she was not above the middle height : but when she stood, the graceful elegance of her form and its flowing ontlines of sylphide beauty made her appear taller than she really was. But she was not one of those beingswhose beauty blazes upon the eye all in a moment, to dazzle, to bewilder,. and to overpower : on the contrary, it was not at the first glance that even the keenest observer amongst men and the greatest admirer of the fair sex would single her out as a creature endowed with a rare loveliness.

There was nothing radiant — nothing grandly striking — nothing magnificently imposing about her. A modesty almost too timid for dignity, an artlessness bordering upon infantine simplicity, and then the air of pensiveness whicli was becoming habitual to her, surrounded her as it were with a veil and threw her into the back-ground whenevev a stranger's glance was flung upou her. But by almost imperceptible degrees there would come upon the mind of the observer a consciousness that he was in the presence of one whose unobtrusive loveliness was gradually, gradually unfolding itself to his perception— stealing as it were upon his senses, like the perfume of unseen flowers,— until he would be brought to contemplate with mingled surprise and respectful admiration that beauty which thus dawned upon him from behind the veil of its own modest simplicity.

Nor was the young girl whom we are describing thus sweetly bashful and innocently retiring in appearance only : ehe was so in sooth. Despite of an experience already bitter with regard to this world's varying for tunes aud cold heartlessness, — despite also of that natural quickness of apprehension and appreciation of circum stances and things, which resulted from a sine intellect, VIRGINIA. Tavistock Street is a narrow and gloomy thoroughfare lying between the bustling Strand and tho equally busy mart of Covent Garden. The reader may picture to himself a dark and sluggish ditch in some spot where there is a rushing, roaring' torrent on the one hand, and an ever-agitated lake on tho other; — and such is the relationship which Tavistock Street bears to the great living flood that pours along the Strand, aud the constant activity of swarming life in Covent Garden.

The mingling hnm of nfyriads of voices and the din of countless vehicles reach the ears of the dwellers iu that diugylooking, sombre street : but seldom are its echoes awakened by carriages passing through it, — while the number of font passengers is at no time great enough to send forth those sounds peculiar to the many-trampling feet of crowded ways. The shops in Tavistock Street are few aud by no means imposing in appearance : the hair-dresser's, the oilman's, the picture-warehouse, the masquerade-clothier's, and the gin-palace are the principal. The houses seem to be chiefly private ones : but they are generally occupied by lodgers whose names and avocations are specified on little brass-plates affixed to the door-post, and each serving as au index to the particular bell which must be ruug in order to summon forth the special individual whom the visitor requires.

Some of those houses are perfectly respectable : but in others there are female lodgers whose reputation would not exactly stand the test which Cæsar insisted upon applying to his own wife. "We must now introduce our readers to a little chamber on the uppermost floor of one of the dingiest-looking houses iu Tavistock Street. That back attic — for it was nothing more — was as scrupulously clean as the nicest sense of female tidiness could render it : but its aspect was that of cold cheerless penury. Upon the floor was stretched the humble bedding — a flock mattrass and one thin blanket, with a pair of sheets as white as snow. A small deal table, a solitary chair, a basin and ewer, a candlestick, a little movable cupboard, and a piece of broken looking-glass hanging to the window, completed the furniture — if such indeed the articles may be called — of that poor chamber.

A neat straw bonnet, a shawl, and a cotton dress, were snspended to pegs in one corner of the room; and a baud-box contained a few other necessaries belonging to tho scanty wardrobe of the young person who occupied this miserable attic. And who was this young person ? Reader, picture to yourself a pale aud pensive girl of about eighteen, — with a countenance as beautiful as the utmost perfection of features could render it, — a figure Elightly formed, but fall of sylphide grace, — a hand of the most delicate shape — and feet aud ankles small even to a fault. Her face was oval, with one of those complexions so dazzlingly fair that the skin seems transparent: her forehead, high and admirably formed, and stainless as alabaster, an nounced the intellectuality of her character ;— while the simple mode in which she wore her rich brown hair and the general expression of her countenance gave her an appearance of virginal artlessness calculated to inspire the most tender interest. white Brussels lace, supplied for the tr^™fL?L2_. sleeves and body, had been purchased at not one tal unrig less than fifteen guineas.

Add together the cost ot the three items of velvet, silk, and lace aud we sh,illhnd that the total amount is £3=1 5s. Nearly forty P oun ds entrusted to this poverty-stricken girl-and f''""?0; liberal furniture-broker in London would not hare pven her twenty shilling for all her worldly possessions . Bnt ere we explain how this superb dress had been confided to Virginia Mordannt-for such was the name of the young seamstress— we must watch her in tho accomplishment and conclusion of her task, n ltn a mechanical precision does she continue to ply the needle: the feverish excitement which sustains her with an artificial strength, increases rather than diminishes ;— and upon the pallor of her cheeks a hectic glow is gradually suffusing itself. Her respiration becomes short aud quick : her veins tingle as the blood courses through them like lightning.

The clock strikes again : 'tis two — two in the morning I — and a faint smile of satisfaction appears npon the countenance of the maiden, as she per ceives that another half -hour will behold the end of her of her thoughts remained as unimpaired as v, of her morals;— and although her sad cons orphan, friendless as she was— had necesli sai-ily thrown her, even at so tender an age, into occat sional situations only too wull calculated to shock her t virgin mind, yet a? her imagination was too fond of e ch nshing the m, I wholesome ideas to find even leisure 1 to dwell upo-a opposite reflections, the result was that _ though her knowledge of life and its ways increased day by dav, her soul passed unoontaminated through the c ordeal. .. c We said that she was pale : bnt as yet it was not a a pallor that had fixed its settled abode upon her cheeks, i lienatural plumpness of the flesh was sustained by the t - i'onr of youthfulness and the strength of a good cont itftution ;— and thus was it apparent that if this poor i orphan gentle girl could only be suddenly or even soon s , i m el from the sad condition in which we find her,— < -natehed away from tho miserable attic in which she 1 toiled early and late— and borne off into the country, to - iuhale the fresh bracing air, wander amidst the green ; n lei pluck flowers almost as fair as herself, and listen i to the warbling of birds whose voices were nearly as f harmonious as her own,— Oh ! if all this could be done lor her while it was yet time, then the roses would come i 1 ack to her cheeks to mingle with the purity of the lily - which was already there ! .,...' But, alas ! small is the prospect of such a blisstul chance in the condition of the orphan Virginia !

And now we behold her toiling far into the night,— the long, long night of winter ;— toiling, by the feeble glimmer of the solitary candle, at the work which she has in hand. The clock of St. Paul's, Covent Garden, has already pro claimed the hour of one— one in the morning 1— and yet the poor girl quits not her seat to retire to her humble pallet. Nevertheless she is ready to sink with fatigue : her temples throb violently— her back aches— her fingers are still— her limbs are rigid. The snow lies thick upon the roofs that may be seen from her attic-window : the moon shines with a lustre that is the very purity of ice like coldness itself ;— and yet she feels not the piercing chill. A feverish excitement tingles in her blood and sustains an unnatural warmth throughout her entire being : for she is pushing her physical energies to the extreme—she is goading herself on as it were with whip and spur— she must finish her task before she dares think of si eking her couch!

Fain would she pause if only for five minutes— just to get up and stretch her limbs by walking to and fro in that chamber, narrow and circumscribed though it be. But she must not— she may not pause thus !— she knows full well that if Ehe once checks the unnatural tide of over-wrought energies now hurrying her along, a complete paralyzation of the whole powei-3, mental and physical, woulel instantaneously take place. She resembles the high-mettled steed which, to suit its master's stern necessity, allows itself to be ridden to the very death,— keeping up at last with a kind of mechanical energy and artificial strength— surviving as it were the exhaustion of its legitimate power— ajid yet at any moment ready to drop down dead if its foot should only happen to be tripped up with a stone or its rider should suddenly attempt to rein it in !

Conscious, therefore, that to pause even for a moment would be to surrender herself up to utter prostration, Virginia pursues the toil which is only too well calculated to produce in a few hours the effect of so many years' wear and tear upon her constitution. Since five in the morning had she been at work : 'twas now one on the next morning ; — twenty hours of unceasing, unvarying toil, broken only by two intervals of ten minutes each to allow the poor girl to partake of some trifling refreshment ! But how happens it that she — this poverty-stricken young creature, who hath nothing save the innocence of her own sweet pensive countenance to become security in her behalf, — how happens it that she should have been entrusted with a superb dress of costly velvet to make u-p ? For such is the work to which she is now devoting all the energies she can possibly concentrate to the accomplisment of the task.

And let us pause for a moment to examine in detail the amonnt of property thus confided to an orphan girl whose entire worldly possessions are contained within the four walls of that narrow, poor, and cheerless attic! First, there were eighteen yards of the most magnificent velvet, at one guinea per yard— making £18 l8s. Next, there was the same quantity of costly silk for the lining at 4s. a yard— making £-3 12s. Then'the exquisite task. And now it is with nerves and fibres straining to the extremest faculty of tension that Virginia pursues hei toil. Her eyes grow dim : she closes the lids with a sort of violence for a few moments— and the blue orbs appeal to recover all their power. A dizziness seizes upon her : she presses her hands for an instant to her throbbing brows — and the reeling of her brain seems to be Btopped.

But so unnaturally overwrought are her physical energies that her mental faculties aro becoming bewil dered : she loses sight of her own identity— sho forget where she is— a hurry, a confusion, and a droning hum take possession of her brain— and yet she continues to ply the needle with a sort of automaton accuracy. The candle requires snuffing— but she heeds it not : dimly and more dimly does it burn— and still she plies, and plies, and plies the needle with an unvarying precision. 'Tis now a mere mechanical process with her : she is like one in a dream ! But suddenly she starts from that waking trance : the toil is over — the work is done. From her hand falls the superb velvet dress ; and for a few moments she lies back in her chair to collect her scattered thoughts. The reaction now commences : the ebb of the tide of energies so unnaturally forced in the same channel for so many hours, begins in terrible earnest.

The sensation is as if the warm blood were receding from the heart and flowing out of the veins, bearing away all the vital powers ou its crimson current. A feeling of languor, painfully deepening into exhaustion, comes over the maiden ; and she is compelled to arouse herself to another effort iu order to escape from sinking into utter lethargic prostration. Rising from her seat, she carefully hangs the dress over the back of the chair which she has just quitted : then, hastily throwing oil her apparel, the wearied, toil-crushed Virginia seeks her humble pallet spread upon the floor. In a few moments she is sleeping profoundly. Then gradually do her thoughts take the roseate hue which adapts them, when no longer uuder the regulating power of the intelligence, to form the phantasmagorian train constituting a dream of fairy happiness ; — and she beholds herself wandering in a delicious garden — threading her way beneath festooning verdure and amidst part-ires of flowers.

The atmosphere is warm and perfumed : the silver murmurs of a neighbouring streamlet, mingling with the songs of birds, are wafted to her ears. Delicious sensations come npon her — all the harmony of nature is stealing in unto her soul — she imbibes the fragrance of the flowers — she moistens her lips with frnits of exquisite flavour. It seems to her -that this is . her own garden — that she is the genius of that terres : trial paradise. Then the remembrance of her recent sorrows gradually mingled with the felicitous train of l her reflections; and she rejoices to think that some ! heavenly intervention has removed her from her cheer ; less attic to this scene of floral charms and fruitful plenty, where summer ever reigns ! But suddenly a chill seizes upon the young maiden and strikes with the effect of an ice-shaft to her very heart's core.

She shivers all over— a sombre shade falls upon the delicious garden-nieeper and deeper grows the gloom — the gem-like glories of the frnits and flowers arc absorbed in the darkening cloud— the harmonies of nature sink into a dead and ominous silence — and the hist vestiges of the enchanting vision faderapidly from her view, until they disappear altogether. Virginia awakes with a subdued cry upon her lip — and she starts up iu a species of consternation. Tho effect of the dream is still upon her ; — and she cannot imme diately comprehend where she is. But in a very few moments her ideas settle down into their proper depart ments ; — and she becomes painfully and poignantly alive to the fact that in proportion as the garden of her dream was warm, glowing, and delicious, so is the garret of her reality chill, wretched, and cheerless. a smile of satisfaction as sho lingered for a moment ou the threshold of the kitchen-door.

" And you ain't worn out?" ejaculated Jane, tho expression of her countenance deepening in wonder and sympathy— feelings which her usually cold and sullen disposition seldom allowed her to exhibit : then, shaking her head with a kind of ominous solemnity, she added, "But you won't keep it up long, miss— you'll see you won't. It will kill you right off in a few years if you do. Well, it's a pity— a great pity, such a sweet pretty creature as you are— and quite a lady too : but your fate is fixed, as the saying is— and in a short time you'll be glad to take it easy as Miss Barnet does." "Miss Barnet— the person who lives in the room underneath mine?" said Virginia, interrogatively. "I think I saw her on the stairs the day before yesterday— a tall, handsome, well-dressed female, of abont two-and-twenty " " The same, miss," replied Jane, with a faint smile of superciliousness upon her lip.

"Has she not formed your acquaintance yet ?" " She made some observation of ordinary civility as we passed each other ou the staircase," returned Virginia ; "and I of course gave a suitable answer. But what did you mean, Jane, by the remark that I shall soon be glad to imitate Miss Barnet ?" The servant-girl, who was not above eighteen herself, but whose experience was such that she had little left to learn, fixed her gaze steadfastly upon Miss Mordaunt as if to read her through and through : but almost in a moment was she satisfied that the air of artlessness whieh the maiden's charming countenance wore, was nature's own veritable impress and utterly beyond all power of affectation. Then did the grimy but not illlooking features of the servant-girl assume a look of the deepest commiseration, as she said in a low tone, "And you really don't understand me, miss ?"

" Certainly I do not, Jane," was Virginia's immediate response: "or else I should not have solicited an explanation." "Then may you continue in ignorance, miss," ejaculated the servant-girl, with an abruptness alike of tone and manner which seemed passing strange to our innocent heroine : and turning away, the slattern Jane, apparently relapsing into all her wonted sullenness aud reserve, continued her work without taking any farther notice of the young seamstress. Virginia accordingly hurried upstairs to her own chamber ; and as she sate down to drink her tea and eat a slice of dry bread therewith, she could not help reflect ing that there was something very singular in the ser vant-girl's observation. But she had not much leisure for giving way to her thoughts upon the subject : for as soon as she had finished her frugal and hurried meal, she threw the velvet dress carefully over her arm and. once more descended the stairs.

But this time, instead of proceeding down to the lowest region, she stopped at the back-room on the first storey and knocked gently at the door. A faint voice desired her to enter ; and Virginia accordingly obeyed the invitation. It was a bed-chamber into which the maiden thus passed ; and an elderly female was lying in the couch. A cheerful fire blazed in the grate — that apartment was well-furnished — and the breakfast materials, neatly arranged upon a tray, stood on the table by the side of the bed. The air of comfort which pervaded the place struck the seamstress as being positively luxurious after the chill and cheerless aspect of her own garret ; and the genial warmth of the atmosphere struck as gratefully upon her shivering frame as a kind word falls beneficently upon the afflicted spirit.

"lam glad to learn from Jane that you are better this morning, Mrs. Jackson," Eaid Virginia, as she approached the couch. " Yes— I have slept well— and that is a good thing for an invalid," returned the female, who possessed one of those cold, passionless countenances whicb afford not the slightest index to the reading of the mind. " But you have finished the dress — you have kept your word — and you are a good girl,"— she added, iu an imperturbable business-like fashion. "I hope it will give you satisfaction, madam," said Virginia, as she held up the superb robe in such a manner that the light from the window gave a living lustre to its gloss. " Come close," exclaimed Mrs. Jackson, raising herself partially up from the pillows which supported her head : then, drawing the dress, towards her, she examined it with a look which though hurried was keenly critical—

Chapter II. The Velvet Dress

The clock of St. Paul's, Covent Garden, is now striking seven, as Virginia rises from her humble pallet. The snow has piled itself up on the window-ledge, veiling the lower row of the small panes with a natural curtain of dense gauze. The atmosphere of the chamber is fraught with an intense chill ; and from the badly fastened door and window the searching draughts penetrate like keen and cutting shafts of invisible ice. The water is frozen in the ewer ; and the maiden's breath freezes into a vapour-wreath as it emanates from the ivory doors and the rosy portals of her charming mouth. No wouder, then, that ere Virginia Mordaunt had even awakened from her slumber, the barbed chill of the winter morning should have pierced through the thin blanket even unto the very marrow of her bones. Shivering from head to foot, she abandons that couch whereon she would fain repose her weary limbs a short time longer, «old though it be : for, after twenty-one hours and a half of continuous, unwearied toil, four hours aud a half of slumber were but the veriest shade and mockery of rest !

But not another minute might the maiden linger on that pallet : the clock had struck seven — and it was at seven that she had calculated upon rising when she had lain herself down so short a time before. And now she was compelled to break the ice in her pitcher before she could perform her ablutions ; — and whilc-thus employe*!, h.r dedicate hands turned blue with the cold — and her teeth chattered— and she felt so very, very wretched and dispirited altogether, that the poor girl burst into tears. For she thought that it was hard — oh ! it was hard to have toiled so much and have rested so little — to be compelled to sit up so many hours, and to be enable to sleep for so short a time — to plunge herself by sheer labour into such utter exhaustion, and to rise again with the stiffness still in every joint and the aching in every limb !

But wiping away the pearly tears from her sweet plaintive countenance, Virginia addressed herself with revising courage to her simple toilette. The intense chill of the water brought a colour back to her cheeks ; and a copious bathing of the eyes mitigated their heavi ness. In a word, by the time she had resumed her apparel, the natural freshness of youth, aided by the vigour of a good constitution, had so far triumphed over the lassitude aud languor which she felt on first rising from her couch, that although still experiencing a sense of weariness, she was astonished that it should be so comparatively slight when measured with the maguitude of her recent exertions. Tbe moment she was dressed, Virginia opened her cupboard, and thence took forth the materials for her frugal breakfast. Having put about a thimbleful of tea into a little brown earthenware teapot, she opened the door — tripped gently downstairs — aud descended to the kitchen, where she wras allowed to procure some boiling water.

Of a ditty slatternly servant-girl she asked " how Mrs. Jacksou was this morning ?" — and the response, in differently but not insolently given, was to the effect that thB female thus inquired about had passed a comfortable night and was somewhat better. *'I suppose you are going to take up her breakfast now, Jane?" observed Virginia, whose voice was of silvery sweetness and touching softness : then, perceiving that the girl nodded her head affirmatively, she added, *' Have the goodness, then, to inform Mrs. Jackson that the dress is finished, and that I will be with her in about ten minutes." _ " And do you mean to say, miss, that yon ve done that welwet gown since the night before last ?" inquired the servant-girl, gazing upon the young seamstress with mingled amazement and interest. , _ " Yes— I finished it at half-past two o'clock this inorn ia<* " replied Virginia, her beautifej lips wreathing into for Mrs. Pembroke spoke quite with the air of a superior and never once thought of asking her to sit down.

" Mrs. Jarkson is ill in bed." " 111 in bed, eh ? Well— I suppose she'll get over her indisposition, whatever it may be," observed Mrs. Pem broke, with all the heartless indifference of that fashion able class whose airs and manners she studiously affected. " Let me see— I am going out of town for a few weeks— and therefore I had better settle Jackson's bill at once. There is nothing between us that I am aware of, except that dress : so write out the bill and receipt, miss, and I will pay you for her. There are materials," she added, pointing languidly towards au elegant rosewood desk that lay open on a side table, "How much am I to charge, madam, on Mrs. Jack son's behalf ?" inquired Virginia, with increasing timidity — for the artless, bashful girl was overpowered by the great-lady-airs which Mrs. Pembroke gave herself.

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