The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 114: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ee eee ee ee ne ee er ee ee a ee ee ewe ee A EE AL nV TS we C$ A LALLA LAL ALLL LALLA LLL A A A, -<-- THE MYSTERIES or 108 guished, “but your lamp is nearly out—I will ex- change it, if you will allow me, for one that has been left burning in the hall;” and with this intention the obliging girl crossed over towards the table to which the lamp had been transferred, and in so doing her quick bright eye detected in Mary’s moistened cheek the trace of newly-fallen tears. Having effected the exchange, instead of quitting the room immediately, she looked tenderly and com- passionately upon the features of Mary, and said, in a musical, conciliatory voice: “ Do not think me impertinently intrusive if I ask you why you have been weeping thus, and if I can alleviate in any way the sorrow you seem to have felt. You are a stranger here, I know; and from what | have seen and heard, I believe you have been one of the extra hands engaged by Madame Dochard. Miss Crump has been harsh with you, and unjustly, and you feel hurt at the treatment you have experienced from her. Is it not so?” Yielding to the persuasive influence of this address, and the encouraging manner in which it was spoken, Mary acknowledged that she was correct in supposing such had been the case, and thanked her for this expression of her sympathy. “T thought it was,” resumed her companion, “ for I have seen her treat several in the same manner when they first came.” “You are yourself, then, engaged here?” asked Mary, inquiringly. “JT was an apprentice to Madame Duchard,” was the reply, “and have only been a few weeks out of my time. The present forewoman has not been here long, and is, I think, not very likely to remain—but this is in mutual confidence of course,” she added, with a smile—“ for none of the young ladies like her, She is very disagreeable sometimes. But tell me in what way you have excited Miss Crump’s ani- mosity ?” Mary briefly related the circumstance that led to the severity of the female critic. “Well, that is singular enough,” cried the first speaker, “for it seems that we have both, without knowing it, been employed on different parts of the same dress. 1 was sure that we were intended to be friends when I first saw you, and this is’ another reason for the existence of an intimacy between us, But come, I will at once relieve you from all anxiety about your work. You shall come up stairs with me to Madame Duchard herself, for you must know that I am quite a favourite of hers, and, they do say, have some little influence with her; but of that,” she continued, with a merry laugh, “ you shall have your self the opportunity of judging, for 1 intend my first trial of it to be exerted in your favour.” “Oh, thank you!” returned Mary, warmly; “ you know not how mitch I am indebted to you, for on this depends——~” and ther, afraid of diselosing too much, she suddenly checked herself, and with a slight show of confusion as she rose from her seat, she said, “ but may I not ask the name of her who is so kindly dis- posed to exercise her privilege on my behalf?” “They call me Emma Thornton,” answered the kind. hearted girl, clasping the hand that was extended towards her in gratitude with a reassuring pressure, “and yours | know is Mary Randall, for by that name | heard you spoken of on the day you were first introduced here; bat come,” she continued, “ we must be prompt in our appeal to the higher tribunal, or the Spicer, as we call her, will have spun all ber web hefore we gat there,”? ee LONDON, “But shall you not injure your own position by thus appearing to support mine?” remonstrated Mary; “TI would not for the world have another suffer for me, particularly with an intention so generous and disinterested.” “ Not I,” interrupted Emma; “I am more anxious for you to accompany me, since it happens that the Lady Adeline Temple, for whom the bridal dress is intended, has this very evening called to give some additional orders; and as she is now here, an excellent opportunity presents itself for trying on. Madame Duchard will be pleased with the suggestion—you and I can assist—and we can then share her ladyship’s approval fairly between us; or should there be any great fault found in it.” she added, with an air of mock solemnity, “we shall be best able to make the alterations pointed out,” Thus speaking, and without heeding any further remonstrances, Mary led her up the broad flight of stairs to the showrooms, pointing out on her hig the long-room set apart for the workpeople, many of whom, as there were some heavy orders to execute, were at work later than usual. At the summit of the first landing a pair of folding glass doors communi- cated with a suite of stylishly-furnished apartments beyond; and entering these, Emma paused before the door of a boudoir, accessible only to the proprietress and her most fashionable patrons, and requesting Mary to wait for her there a few minutes, Emma tapped gently at the outer portal, and the next instant was admitted. It was evident from what took place that the fault- finding propensities of Miss Crump had met with a firm and effectual check, either from the timely entrance of Emma, or from the nature of her criti- cisms not having been appreciated by the audience for whose especial advantage they had been made, Emma, in fact, had not been more than a few minutes in the apartment before Miss Crump stalked indig- nantly out with a spiderlike stealthiness that made her soubriquet not inappropriate. Every angle of her body, from the point of her cap to the points of her scissors, was looking more sharp and fierce than ever. Without noticing the sempstress, or appearing even to be aware of her vicinity, the forewoman marched in sullen grandeur down the stairs, and be- fore the last step had received her dignified footfall, Mary was called in to the chamber, and the elaborate process of adapting a garment to the majestic pro- portions of the female form was then commenced. Far be it from us to seek to pry into the mysteries of a lady’s boudoir, and particularly at such a critical moment when the future bride is arraying herself ia the habiliments of the wedding day. The very mirror, before which the fine figure of Lady Adeline was displayed, modestly refused to retain the be- witching impression, lest it should meet the eye of — the inquisitive footman, that the next polished its glossy surface. The white corset closely pressing against the voluptuous form of the beautiful betrothed, the rounded shoulders swelling in graceful curves above its boundary, the soft, yielding bosom heaving in undulating movements beneath its folds, must all therefore be pictured only by the imagina- tion that can dare to attempt to realise the scene. It will suffice for our purposes to state that the robe gave unequivocal satisfaction to the wearer, fitted to mira- cular precision, and that so delighted was Lady Temple with the skilful assistance and unassuming demeanour displayed by the bird-fancier’s daughter, thet ehe offered, before she went from the room, to * 7 i ’ ' a i : : : 4 ; ‘