The Seamstress; or, The White Slave of England — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

7A added Clementine, “ how cheerfully I accepted your | kind proposal to enter your dwelling and rest myself awhile.” “Your narrative has touched me profoundly,” said Virginia, upon whose long lashes the tears were still glistening. ‘ Howcruelly your sister must feel the perfidy of that man who has wronged her !” “ And, oh! if you eould only see him, Miss Mor- daunt,”’ exclaimed Clementine, assuming an ex- cited and impassioned tone, “you would not be- lieve him capable of such an atrocity. He is still quite a youth—not two-and-twenty—and with one of those god-like countenances the masculine se- verity of which is subdued by a look of even feminine softness. Beautiful as an angel, he pos- sesses the heart of a fiend;—and under a capti- vating suavity of manner, he is able to conceal the most perfidious intentions. His looks are full of love: but they carry venom into the heart which they penctrate !” * How dreadful that one so faultless externally should be so wicked and deceitful!” exclaimed Virginia. “Ah! my dear girl,” said Clementine, “let me beseech you never to judge by appearances. You are young, and beautiful, and confiding; and it is ‘Impossible that you should altogether escape the notice of those villains who are ever on the alert to entrap the lovely and the artless. Hxcuse me, Virginia, for giving you this counsel: it emanates from a sincere wish to place you upon your guard: against the thousand disguises which treachery knows so well how to assume. There is too often sulle upon the most honied lip—too often perfidy concealed beneath an appearance of the most generous frankness. At all events, wherever mys- tery is observed, be cautious how you put your trust or place your confidence——” “Oh! I thank you sincerely for this well-meant advice, Mademoiselle,” said Virginia: “but to be candid with you, I am in no danger of becoming even the object of treacherous aims, much less their victim. I hope,” she exclaimed proudly, “that my own good conduct would preserve me from the latter: and as for the former-——I shall shortly become the wife of an excellent and amiable young gentleman,” added the seamstress, a flush once more mantling upon her cheeks. “What! is that your own bridal-dress you are making?” asked Clementine, as if the thoucht that such might be the case had only just this moment struck her. ‘Ah! I see that I guessed the truth!” she exclaimed, with an arch look: “that tell-tale glow upon your countenance, my dear friend, con- firms my suspicion. But I congratulate you, Miss Mordaunt—sincerely congratulate you. You will render your husband happy—and it is to be hoped that he will appreciate the treasure which heaven will have consigned to his care.’ In this manner did the two young women con- tinue to discourse: and as Clementine made lierself very agreeable, and insisted upon giving Virginia some advice relative to the fashion of the wedding- dress, our charming heroine experienced no small degree of pleasure in her new friend’s company. At length Mademoiselle Clementine appeared suddenly to remember that 1t must be growing late and that the Duchess would be angry at her long absence ;— THE SEAMSTRESS. Miss Mordaunt. You may therefore suppose,” | and on consulting her elegant gold watch, which she wore concealed in her bosom, she affected to be quite dismayed at finding that it was past four o'clock. * And I who am such a stranger in this neigh- bourhood that I scarcely know my way!” exclaimed the wily Frenchwoman as she started from her seat. *T shall have much pleasure in acting as your guide until you reach that part of the town with which you are familiar,’ said the good-natured seamstress, hastening to put on her bonnet and shawl. “JT must call at a friend’s in Portland Place before I return to Grosvenor Square,” observed Clementine. “Then our nearest way will be through Regent’s Park,” returned Miss Mordaunt. This was pretisely the answer which the treacher- ous Frenchwoman desired to elicit from her unsus- pecting companion ;—and they accordingly set off together. Clementine drew down her veil in order to avoid being recognized by the Marquis of Arden and Lady Clarissa, whom she expected to see in the park;—and the moment she entered the spacious enclosure, with Virginia by her side, she threw a searching look along the road-way to ascertain if the Duke’s carriage were visible. Three cr four private vehicles were approaching at different dis- tances; and in a few minutes Clementine recognized the Belmont livery. She now made some casual observations to her fair companion, watching all the time until the Duke’s carriage was close at hand: and then, just as it was passing, she clutched Virginia violently by the arm, exclaiming ina hollow voice, “There! there !” The maiden, startled and affrighted, threw her looks upon the open barouche which was dashing past. On one seat was an elderly gentleman—and facing him was her lover, Mr. Osmond, with an elegant and beauteous lady by his side. They were all three laughing gaily at the moment;—and Charles beheld not his Virginia as he was borne along by the spirited horses. A terrible presentiment of evil now struck with the sudden virulence of a blight upon the heart of Virginia ;—and turning abruptly towards Clemen- tine, who seemed to have staggered against the railings of the enclosure for support, she said, “In heaven’s name, what is the matter?” “Oh! did you not see him—that young gentleman —in the carriage which has just gone by?” gasped the femme-de-chambre, apparently labouring under the most dreadful agitation. “ Yes—my God !—yes—what of him?” cried Virginia, already rent with a thousand agonies from head to foot. “The villain—the seducer of my sister—in com- pany with his bride!” exclaimed Clementine, speak- ing as if with the madness of passion, “Just heaven!” moaned the wretched Virginia; and she sank sénseless at the feet of the Irench- woman. [0)(@)0) (a) : (E)