The Seamstress; or, The White Slave of England — page 79: what you’re looking at

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

a 72 THE SEAMSTRESS. “T shall cheerfully avail myself of the opportunity of sitting down a little, and becoming better ac- quainted with you at the same time,” said the treacherous Frenchwoman. ~- Virginia accordingly led the way to her abode; and Clementine was introduced into a small but neatly furnished chamber—for although the gener- ous considerations of the Marquis of Arden had placed her at her ease in a pecuniary sense, she had not chosen to quit the house of the good people who had been kind to her, nor seck a better apartment elsewhere. She had therefore contented herself with making her lodging as comfortable as possible ;— and that was the condition in which Clementine found it. Upon the bed lay the half-finished bridal-dress, which was one where the good taste of Virginia had sought to unite elegance with simplicity ;—and the moment the searching eyes of the French- woman caught a glimpse of it, she beheld therein the confirmation of her suspicion that the Marquis of Arden really intended to make the humble seam- stress his wife. But scarcely had her previously-conceived opinion on the point experienced this ratification, when the thought flashed to her mind that it was singular the Marquis should have allowed Virginia to inhabit a lodging so incompatible with the position and rank to which he purposed to raise her ;—and this reflec- tion instantaneously gave birth to another—namely, that it was probable the young seamstress was still | and proceeded to place some refreshments upon the table—an occupation to which she thus suddenly turned in order to veil her embarrassment. “Do not give yourself any trouble on my account, my dear Miss Mordaunt,” said Clementine: “for I assure you that I can eat nothing. Alas! it was not avery pleasurable circumstance which brought me up into this neighbourhood to-day, I can assure you,” she added, suddenly assuming a melancholy look and heaving a profound sigh. “T hope that nothing has occurred to give you pain, Mademoiselle?” observed the seamstress, whose kind heart was already touched by the little piece of successful acting with which the wily Frenchwoman had commenced her part. \/“ You shall judge whether I have not enough to make me unhappy when I give way to thought,” continued Clementine, still adopting the dismals. “T have a sister a year younger than myself, and who was once beautiful as an angel. She became acquainted with a gentleman—a mere youth—but handsome as Apollo and subtle as Satan. He made honourable proposals to her —the day was even fixed for their marriage—and all the preli- minary arrangements were completed. In a mo- ment of weakness and fondness he triumphed over her virtue: and then, a recreant to all his solemnly- recorded vows, the seducer abandoned his victim and married another. My poor sister became a mother a few months ago: and he has never even testified the least concern for his innocent child. in ignorance of who her noble suitor really was. | Heart-broken—ruined in health and shattered in This latter thought appeared likewise to receive confirmation from a previous circumstance—which was, that when speaking ere now of the Belmont family, Virginia had manifested not the slightest confusion nor uneasiness. “Tf”? said Clementine to herself, “this young woman really knew that her lover was the son and heir of the Duke of Belmont, she would naturally conclude that the marriage was about to take place without the consent of her future husband’s relatives and friends: and she would therefore have been troubled at encountering any one who belongs to the ducal household.” All these reflections flashed in a moment through the active mind of Clementine ;—and still keeping her eves fixed on the bridal-garb, she said, ‘* You have a pretty piece of work there, Miss Mordaunt.” “Do you think so ?” faultered the maiden, a deep blush mantling upon her cheeks, although her looks lighted up with a species of modest pride and joy at the thought that the wedding-dress was her own. “Pray allow me to look at it,” continued Cle- mentine. “One is always interested, you know, in such raiment as this: and for my part, I never see a bridal-dress without sighing and wondering when my turn will come,” added Mademoiselle, laughing. ‘Ah! it is indeed sweetly pretty!” she exclaimed, as the still blushing Virginia took her work from the bed and displayed it before the abigail’s eyes. “ But how charming you yourself would look in it, my dear Miss Mordaunt !” Covered with a modest confusion—blushing more deeply, and now trembling visibly—but not with - grief, nor even with the slightest presentiment of evil—Virginia threw back the dress upon the couch spirits — with all her beauty faded and even her mind unhinged, my unhappy sister is sinking rapidly into the tomb, uncared for and cruelly neglected by the villain who has thus made a wreck of all that once was so angel-like-and so lovely !” “Ah! this is indeed shocking!” exclaimed Vir- ginia, the tears chasing each other down her cheeks. “Tf you can weep at the bare idea of sorrows which you have not seen, my dear Miss Mordaunt,” continued the perfidious Clementine, with a voice and looks expressive of the profoundest woe,—“ how deep must be the affliction of one who is daily con- demned to witness those sorrows and gaze upon the wreck they have made. Yet such is my fate ;—and now you can judge whether I have cause for un- happiness.” “You have—you have, indeed,” cried Virginia, in a tone of the sweetest sympathy and with looks of the most angelic compassion. ‘Months and months had elapsed,” continued the femme-de-chambre, “ since I last saw the seducer of my sister—until I beheld him proceeding along Portland Place this morning. He was walking rapidly towards the Regent’s Park ;—and I resolved to follow and upbraid him with all the miseries he had caused and the wrongs he had heaped upon his victim. But Icould not succeed in overtaking him. Nevertheless I sped onward: he entered the park —and then I lost sight of him. I continued to ramble about, in the hope of still encountering him —for I know not where he dwells.” “Did you meet him after all?” inquired Vir- ginia. “ No—and I had already given up the pursuit, after two or three weary hours’ rambling about this neighbourhood, when I happened to encounter you, EOMIGdoOOoO “S (E(O)