The Seamstress; or, The White Slave of England — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

NN LA I LE IS a SE eT es a a we + ee --—--— _--- —~ + 52 THE SEAMSTRESS. leaning upon the arm of her handsome companion, | you in that sphere of which nature has formed you who was conducting her into the least frequented | to be the embellishment. But while I am thus ad- walk of the spacious enclosure. dressing you, I remember that I do not even know “You have conferred upon me a happiness | by what name to call you——” which I hardly dared anticipate,’ said the young! “ Virginia Mordaunt,” said the young seamstress, nobleman, his musical voice sounding low and tre- | her whole being thrilling and trembling with the mulous as he bent his head slightly down towards | mingled hopes and fears which the impassioned the maiden: “and I promise you that I shall know | language of her youthful admirer had raised up in how to appreciate this confidence which you have | her breast,—hopes suca as a gentle mailen could reposed in me,”’ not fail to experience under such circumstances, aod “And you do not think the worse of me for taking | fears lest they never should be realised. } this step?” murmured the seamstress, in a hesitat-| “ Virginia—sweet Virginia!” cried the Marquis, ing tone. | rejoicing that the object of his infatuation possessed “The worse of you!” exclaimed Charles. “Oh! | a name which was alike so beautiful and so appro- no—no! How was it possible that I could have an | priate. “Ab! permit me to call you simply Vir- opportunity of telling you all I feel, unless you had | ginia—and not cold and formal Miss Mordaunt : consented thus to grant me an interview P” and you shall address me as Charles in return. “‘Nethertheless, I must assure you, sir, for my | But can you—will you love me?” he suddenly de- own sake,’ continued Virginia, “that it was not | manded, with an unaffected eagerness to obtain an without an effort 1 could persuade myself there was | assurance on that head. no impropriety in this proceeding. I have argued| “Your conduct towards me has already esta- the point over and over again—sometimes arriving | blished large claims upon my gratitude,” returned at one resolution, and sometimes at another: and | the maiden, in a subdued and tremulous tone: “and even at the last moment I hesitated still.” I will not be so false or so foolish as to declare that “But you decided in favour of my happiness at | all you have now been saying to me has produced last!” observed the young nobleman, in a voice | no impression upon my mind.” expressive of ardent gratitude. “Had you not| “Then you think you can love me, Virginia— come,” he continued, in a more solemn manner, “I | dear Virginia?” said the youth, in a whispering should have been driven to despair: for you have | tone, that was full of tenderness. made upon my mind an impression which never,| -Dear Virginia!—Oh! never, never had her name never could be effaced, were I to live for ages. Now | sounded so softly musical and so deliciously sweet understand me well: because if I explain myself | to her ears, as now when spoken by that voice fully, you will be the better able to judge of my | which was in itself a combination of feminine har- sincerity. I move in a sphere where beautiful | mony with masculine depth, —a voice belonging to women abound; and you would not believe me for | that very period of existence when it possesses the a moment were I to declare that I never saw an | male intonation without the roughness of a more angel in female form more beauteous than yourself, | advanced age—and therefore when it is best adapted But you may believe me when I assert that never | to penetrate with all its metallic richness of sound have I encountered a being whose retiring, modest, | into the very depths of a woman’s soul! and bashful loveliness was so calculated to rivet the Nor was this influence lost upon Virginia “for purest and most enduring affections. There are| that tender mention of her name struck a chord beauties which dazzle and bewilder—and ‘there are | which vibrated to her heart’s core, She felt that others which hold the senses spell-bound as it were | the words “ Dear Virginia !” were a more touching while the influence of their presence lasts: but re- | and thrilling avowal of love than could possibly be moved from the splendours of the former, and the | conveyed in a thousand elaborate and well-rounded fascinations- of the latter, the effect speedily dies | sentences. In giving utterance to those two words, away, as the glory and the warmth of the sun are | the music of the young nobleman’s voice invested felt only so long as you bask in itsrays. But there | her name with a singular and ravishing charm ;— is that unobtrusive, retiring loveliness which hangs | and the endearing tenderness of his manner was like a charm about its possessor and stamps its | in itself full of the eloquence of passion. It was image upon the heart of its admirer——” impossible to suspect his sincerity—his faith—his “You must not talk to me thus,’ murmured | truthfulness: the enthusiasm of his words was as Virginia, holding down her blushing countenance | different from the cold suphistries of the deliberate as she leant upon her companion’s arm: “I feel | seducer as the respectful admiration of his looks that 1am doing wrong to listen to you. Besides, | contrasted with the devouring regards of sensuality you know nothing of me—and I cannot be- | which he himself had been accustomed to fix upon heve "% other women. “You cannot believe that it is possible to love| Dear Virginia!—Oh! she saw that sho was be- you without instituting all manner of inquiries | loved !—with a woman’s instinct, young and artless concerning you beforehand ?” exclaimed the young | though she were, she felt that she was indeed dear Marquis, repudiating the idea with a fervid scorn. | to that handsome young man—and it suddenly “Ah! if your character were not depicted in your , seemed to her as if they had known each other and countenance, you would be less lovely than you are; | been intimate for years ! —andif your disposition were not to be readin every | ‘Tell me, dearest Virginia—do you think you lineament of your face, I should not have been so | can love me?” he said, once more putting the ques- irresistibly attracted towards you. Oh! I am cer- | tion, but with a deeper tenderness alike of epithet tain that your position is not a happy one: and it and tone. “Look up—and tel! me that you can will be the proudest and most joyous moment of my | love me!” life when I can raise you to independence and place | | And tha maiden, with every pulse thrilling at LL a EOMmiIGdoOoO ‘S 0) im