The Seamstress; or, The White Slave of England — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

4) doned to a state of orphanage, I was nevertheless old enough to retain a vivid impression of every- thing that had taken place during the last few years of my poor mother’s life. She was not rich —far from it: but she was in comfortable ciccum- stances. Otherwise she would not have been able to give me a respectable education. We inhabited a small house at Pentonville; and the furniture, which was neat though plain, was my mother’s own property. From the earliest period that my me- mory was susceptible of the impressious made by the ordinary circumstances of life, I recollect that a gentleman was accustomed to cali upon my mother at particular intervals. Regularly as. quarter-day came round, did this gentleman make his appear- ance; and my mother as invariably seemed to ex- pect him—for she never omitted to be at home on those occasions. In the same unchanging manner, too, did she receive him alone in the parlour, an established habit as recularly leading me to retire to my own chamber the instant his well-known knock was heard periodically at our door. He was accustomed to remain about two or three minutes— never longer; and I of course suppose—although my mother never gave me any information upon the subject—that this gentleman was some profes- sional agent who paid her a quarterly allowance. For any little out-standing accounts that there might happen to be, were invariably liquidated so soon as he had taken his departure. But all this is mere conjecture: for I never learnt who he was— nor did he give any name to the servant when he paid his regular visits. He merely knocked at the door—inquired if Mrs. Mordaunt were at home— and then walked into the parlour as a matter of course. Two or three times, however, 1 caught a glimpse of his countenance; not that 1 ever gave way to any culpable sentiment of curiosity with regard to that gentleman—much less thought of playing the part of a spy in respect to anything connected with a mother whom I loved so Gevotedly. It was purely through accident that I beheld him on those occasions: once when the ma‘d-servant opened the front door as I was issuing from the par- lour in order to retire to my own chamber—a second time, when he passed by the window at which I happened to be standing as he came a little earlier than usual—and a third time, when I was returning home from executing a little commission for my mother and he was just descending the steps of the street-door. On each occasion he bowed politely and looked at me with a certain degree of atten- tion: but he never once addressed me in a single observation.” * But you would know him again, were you to meet him anywhere?” said Julia, inquiringly. “Yes—amidst a thousand persons, or at the farthermost parts of the earth,” replied Virginia, with the warmth of certainty as to the answer she was giving. “But I fear that it would be productive of no benefit to me, if I were to en- counter him,” she added im a mournful tone: *‘ because his visits to the house ceased when my poor mother died—and therefore I must conclude that whatever the motive of those visits might have been, it extended not beyond her lifetime. Three years have now elapsed since that dear parent’s death took place ; and the catastrophe was all the more terrible because it occurred with | THE SEAMSTRESS. such appalling suddenness. We had partaken in the evening of our wonted frugal supper—and we sate up half-an-hour later than was our custom, because my mother had become interested in a book of travels which I was reading to her. IL never remembered to have seen her more cheer- ful or in better spirits. It was eleven o'clock when we retired to our respective chambers; and she embraced me with her wonted tenderness as she bade me ‘ good night’ at the door of my room. Ah! who would have thought that in the depth, and silence, and moonshine of that lovely night, the Angel of Death was stealing intu a happy home to bear away the spirit of one of its occupants and leave the other to all the madden- ing affliction of that sudden bereavement? Yet so it wasP I remember that on retiring to my own chamber I paused for a few minutes at the window, ere I closed the curtains, to contemplate the tran- quil splendour of that starlit night. The heaven was of a deep blue, stretching like a vast canopy studded with gems, over the entire earth ;—and the crescent-moon was pure and cold as silver. It seemed to me as if angels were looking down upon the world from those far-off planets; and my spirit received hope, and confidence, and inspiration from the thought. Never, never can I forget the thrill of ecstatic pleasure which shot through my heart as I felt that all the good genii of other spheres were holdiag their protective shields over the denizens of this, and that the Almighty would vouchsafe his mercy and his love to those who besought his grace. Under the influence of such feelings as these did I kneel down to pray: and the outpourings of my mingled gratitude and intercession were longer and more fervid than they had ever been before. You will pardon me, Julia, for dwelling upon such circumstances : but the impressions of that evening, trifling as they may appear to you, have become seared as it were with red-hot iron upon my brain.” “Go on—go on, Virginia,’ said Miss Barnet, much moved and still more deeply interested by the young maiden’s narrative, so artless and so touching. “Tam no fanatic, Julia,” continued Miss Mor- daunt, in a low voice that was plaintive and tremu- ious as some woodland melody of nature’s own cre- ation: “much less amIa hypocrite. But I believe that there is something consolatory, soothing, and encouraging in prayer: and even if this be only the work of the imagination, the effect is still the same. On that memorable night of which I am speaking I retired to my couch happier if possible than I had felt for a long time. My dreams were cheerful as my sleep was refreshing: not a suspiclion—not a presentiment of evil was commingled with those visions. When I awoke in the morning, the sun was already throwing its pensile rays between the curtains into my chamber; andI saw that it was later than the hour at which I had been wont to rise. My toilet was therefore performed hastily ; and I descended to the parlour in the expectation of finding that my mother had already risen. But she was not there; andthe servant said that she believed her mistress must be still sleeping, as she had just knocked at her bed-room dvor without obtaining any answer. Far from anticipating the tremendous affliction that was in store for me, I ascended to my mother’s chamber and knocked gently: but no re- sponse was given, I knocked louder—but»still eee SS Es ae TE On BTN I Nag 8 TN Bc a ne rape nn ae = eee F * % EOMiIGdoOO “S (E(0) im