The Seamstress; or, The White Slave of England — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

ee 44, only consider to what a slender thread it hangs. A slackness in the custom at the shop of my friend’s employers—or the discovery that my friend gives me this very work which I hand over to you—or her sudden death, or loss of situation, or removal to a better place,—oh! how many chances have you against the continuance of that work, my poor Virginia. You think yourself wretched now: but believe me when I tell you that your condition may become ten thousand times worse. One evening— it was on a cold winter’s night—I had been toiling hard for three days to finish a dress—I was starving —all my limbs were like ice—and I took home the work. The shutters of the shop were put up: the people had failed that day. A bailiff who was in possession under a writ of seizure, received the dress from me and told me that there-was no money— that I must make a claim to the official assignee and take my chance with the rest of the creditors. Con- ceive my position: it was awful! Goaded to des- peration, L stretched out my hand in the street to implore such alms as God might send me through some charitable person. But the hand that was out- stretched in the hope of receiving the pittance of benevolence, was suddenly touched by the gold of the tempter. I was famishing—I had no means of paying my rent, and I knew that it was useless to return to my miserable garret without the sum due to a merciless landlady. Now, could the strongest- minded woman resist the temptation? I did not!” « Alas! my dear friend,’ murmured Virginia, taking Miss Barnet’s hand and pressing it with even a sisterly warmth,—“ I was just now disposed to blame you: but at present I commiserate you— deeply, deeply commiserate you!” “You need not do it now, Virginia—it is too late!” exclaimed Miss Barnet. ‘My destiny has been chalked out, and is being pursued! I fell— and ever since that time I have been happier. Yes —I have learnt to laugh at shame and ridicule virtue —aye, and mistrust religion. I could not make up my mind to die for virtue’s sake: and so I live in comparative comfort on what priests and prudes -may denominate the wages of vice. Well—but these wages are better than starving virtue—and human nature is too frail to hesitate long between the alternatives. Let those who blame me, act justly and blame the system of society. I am one of its victims—not one of its modellers. The model- lers of society are the rich, the wealthy, and the indolent great;—and the poor, miserable, starving workers are the victims. All these thoughts have been engendered in my mind by hours and hours of reflection upon my own circumstances and my own experience. Go and gaze through the brilliantly-lighted windows of the great mansions at the West End of the town, and watch the forms of the dancers as they throw their shadows upon the curtains while bounding past: then say to yourself that the gorgeous robe and elegant dress of every high-born lady there is stained by the life-blood and infected by the pollution of the poor seamstresses who made them all !” “Just heaven: this picture is indeed too true!” exclaimed Virginia, wringing her hands. “ And is there no hope for any unfortunate being of that oppressed class who may resolve to remain pure and spotless P” “Hope for the virtuous seamstress!” ejaculated minutes she turned into the Strand. eee ee ee ae eS - _~ Se eee —s THE SEAMSTRESS. Miss Barnet, with a bitter laugh. ‘No, no, Vir- ginia—ten thousand times no! Ah! we met to have a pleasant and agreeable conversation: but the discourse has taken a sad and fearful turn. And never, never have I been so much moved by profound feelings since the day on which I plun ced into the abyss of what the world calls shame. Your own history first touched a cord which long had slumbered in my soul;—and the vibration, which went to the deepest confines of my being, aroused all the latent associations that slept in the profound- est cells of my memory. But I will confess to you the whole truth, Virginia: I will keep nothing un- revealed with regard to myself, In plain terms, then, I am now receiving the visits of a young gen- tleman who is handsome as an angel. I only know him as Mr. Osmond: but I have reason to believe that he is something higher in the social sphere. However, I do not annoy him with questions on that point, because he is kind and good to me: and, after all, it is only a suspicion on my part. He is not very well off: but he allows me enough to live in the manner which you see. Sometimes I do a little work for amusement’s sake: but not often. I had so much of it—too much—when I was toil- ing sixteen hours a-day for a crust! Mr. Osmond has not been to see me for the last week: but he has written me a kind note to assure me of his continued attachment ;—and moreover I am not jealous. I know that I am handsome—and when he is weary of me, I shall not be long in finding another friend. That is my history!” And when Virginia took leave of Miss Barnet soon after ten o’clock, she retired to her own cham- ber with a deeper experience in the world’s ways and a sadder state of feeling than she had known for a long, long time past. Gna CHAPTER XIII. A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. Ir was about three o’clock in the afternoon of the following day, that Miss Mordaunt issued from the lodging-house in Tavistock Street, to take home a dress to a lady residing in Spring Gardens. This was a portion of the work which she had received through the kind agency of Miss Barnet: but Mrs. Robinson, the forewoman who thus privately gave Julia materials to be made up, had requested tliat this particular gown should be taken direct to tho lady for whom it was intended. By rights Miss Barnet ought to have conveyed the dress home, as Mrs. Robinson was altogether ignorant that Julia gave out the work to another person: but that young lady was expecting a visit from Mr. Osmond, in consequence of a note which she had received in the morning—and she accordingly despatched Virginia with the dress. ; Our heroine passed rapidly along Tavistock Street, with the band-box in her hand;—and in a few Her looks were more than usually pensive—her countenance was very pale: for her conversation with Miss Barnet on the preceding evening had made a deep impression upon her mind. The purity of her soul had not been diminished: but her experience had undergone a material expansion. She loved virtue eee eee eee EOMIGdoOO <S (E(@) im