The Seamstress; or, The White Slave of England — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

6 THE SEAMSTRESS. evanescent and unintentional ebullition of enthu- siasm might have implied. “Now, then, Miss, have you made out your bill and receipted it?” “No, madam—I—I—did not know whether I was to do so immediately—or not,” faultered Vir- ginia. “And, moreover,” she added, with increased hesitation, “I was not exactly aware what to charge.” “Oh! the usual price, of course!” exclaimed Mrs. Jackson, fixing her large cold gray eyes, now made haggard with illness, upon the young maiden who was trembling with suspense. ‘“Three-and- sixpence, you know, is the sum—and you must take the dress somewhere for meinto the bargain. Now then, run and make out your little bill—and put on your bonnet and shawl, there’s a good girl.” Three-and-sixpence!—the words struck like a panic tothe heart of Virginia—for the poor girl had calculated upon at least double that sum as a recompense not so much for the time as for the skill employed in carrying out the special artistic design of the fashionable milliner who had origi- nally cut out the dress. The disappointment, then, fell with the sudden virulence of a blight upon her feelings: but in order to couceal the tears ‘that were gushing from her eyes, she instanta- neously quitted the room. Hurrying up to her own chamber, she threw herself upon the seat and gave free vent to her emotions. It was not so much for the mere pecu- niary consideration in this special instance that she was thus afilicted—although heaven knows she was poor enough: but her soul was wrung Ee ee a _and she would not refuse such a service for a person confined to her bed by illness. Moreover, she was in hope of obtaining fresh work from Mrs. Jackson, in spite of the dispiriting incident which had ere now wrung such bitter tears from her eyes. In about twenty minutes the maiden reached Great. Russell Street ; and, having discovered Mrs. Pembroke’s abode without difficulty, she was at once shown up into a handsomely-furnished apart- ment, where she found a good-looking middle-aged lady seated at breakfast. The table was spread with many luxuries: the appointments of the room generally denoted the possession of wealth on the part of its occupant ;—and she herself in her elegant French cap and morning-wrapper, was lounging upon the sofa with the indolent ease of one whose mind is troubled with very little care. “Well, Miss, so you come from Jackson with the velvet dress—eh ?” said Mrs. Pembroke, who had already heard from her servant the object of Vir- ginia’s visit. ‘‘There—you need not take it out of the box—I’ve no doubt it is done properly—and if not, there’s no time to make any alteration. Has Jackson sent her bill ?” “No, ma’am,” replied the young seamstress, timidly—for Mrs. Pembroke spoke quite with the air of a superior and never once thought of asking her to sit down. ‘ Mrs. Jackson is ill in bed.” * Tllin bed, eh? Well—I suppose she'll get over her indisposition, whatever it may be,” observed Mrs. Pembroke, with all the heartless indifference of that fashionable class whose airs and manners she studiously affected. ‘Let me see—I am going out with a poignant anguish because she had hoped | of town for a few weeks—and therefore I had better that a specimen of superior skill which she felt! settle Jackson’s bill at once. There is nothing be- eonvineed she had afforded in the making up of | tween tis that I am aware of, except that dress: so that dress, would have evoked such a recompense | write out the bill and receipt, Miss, and I will pay as might serve not only as a positive recognition you for her. There are materials,’ she added, point- of her ability but also as a promise of future em-| ing languidly towards an elegant rose-wood desk ployment. When, therefore, that miserable pit- | that lay open on a side-table. tance was proposed, the maiden’s hope was sud- denly blasted—her pride was wounded—and the sickening thought struck upon her soul that all her skill with the needle would never do more than sustain the frailest, narrowest barrier between herself and utter destitution ! Therefore was it that the poor girl wept: there- fore was it that the friendless orphan gave way to the full tide of her affliction. | But those tears relieved her—and she was not of an age to bid farewell to hope altogether nor to hurry forward in order to meet despair half- way. She accordingly hastened to dry her checks : and, having written out her little bill in the neatest hand that evor embodied feminine grace in calli- graphic fluency, she put on her bonnet and shawl and once more hurried down stairs. “ Now, Miss Mordaunt,”’ said Mrs. Jackson, as soon as she had paid the three shillings and six- pence which she took from a purse beneath her pillow,—* put the dress carefully into that box and take it as quick as you can to Mrs. Pembroke- Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury. Her address is on the box—so you cannot mistake it.” Virginia hastened to obey the orders which she thus received, although she had previously enter- tained no idea that she was to be employed as a messenger as well as a needle-slave. But she was naturaily of an amiable and obliging disposition ; * How much am I to charge, madam, on Mrs. Jackson’s behalf!” inquired Virginia, with in- creasing timidity—for the artless, bashful girl was overpowered by the great-lady-airs which Mrs. Pem- broke gaye herself. “Oh! tho usual price, to be sure!” she exclaimed, quite surprised at the ignorance displayed by the question. ‘Seven shillings.” And poor Virginia sighed as she sate down at the writing-table to draw up the receipt: for she now began to acquire a little insight into the way in which affairs of this nature were conducted— and she wondered why she should not have re- ceived the whole amount of seven shillings, this being the value of the making-up of the dress in the second stage of its progress towards the hands whence the order originally emanated. The bill was accordingly made out; and Mrs. Pembroke tossed half-a-sovereign across the table. Virginia gave the three shillings change, and was about to retire, when the languid lady observed in a somewhat more conciliatory tone than she had hitherto adopted, “By the bye, you can do me a great favour, Miss, if you would be so kind.” “T shall feel very happy, madam,” answered the amiable girl, with all the sinvere readiness of her obliging disposition. «The truth is I am going out of town for a fow weeks,’ resumed Mrs, Pembroke; “and I me ee ee ee CORNIELOOOL<