The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 149: what you’re looking at

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142 THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, TL TT I A Pre SY candle that shed a fitful light around the bare, damp walls, was every moment in danger of being ex- tinguished by the cold draught from the ill-closed window. Leaning her head upon her hand, and her elbow on the table, Julis sate, gazing down on the upturned countenance of her brother who occupied a stool at her fect. Pale and wan were their faces: gone was the bloom of health from the cheeks of the once happy, beauteous boy,-—gone, too, was the deli- cate tinge of carnation that had been wont to enhance the loveliness of his sister. Misery was in that garret —misery for twvo—misery for that almost heart-broken young woman and that affectionate, grateful boy. The want of necdle-work and illness had plunged Julia into the direst poverty: she could have borne it all had she been by herself—borne it almost without repining ;—but when she looked on the pale face of her little brother, saw that he was famishing for want, and knew also that he endeavoured to cunceal his hunger from her for fear of increasing her grief,—oh ! it was this—it was this that crushed and overwhelmed her! She glanced around: there was not an article of clothing that could be nuw spared to pledge, save her scanty shawl—and then how could she go abroad to ask for needlework without it? Ueavens! twelve hours had the boy already fasted—twenty-four hours had elapsed since Julia had tasted a morsel of food ;— for she had almost forced the last crust into his mouth! And now how many hours more must elapse ere a chance might present itself to afford them a meal? And if no work could be obtained, avhat were they to do? What, indeed! “Inthe midst of all these bitter — harrowing re- flections, a thonght—or rather a reminiscence flashed to Julia’s mind ;—but it was only to plunge her more deeply into the abyss of woe, and not to solace her. Just one year had clapsed since she had first met the Marquis of Wilmington,—just one year, day for day: and through how many vicissitudes had she and her darling brother passed in that period! They had known prosperity and happiness: they lad also ex- perienced the bitterest misery, and vet they had not deserved the vengeance of heaven: but, then, those whom the Lord loveth he chastencth! Still pure and guileless—still innocent and artless, Julia Muvray’s principles had remained unshaken by the rude con- test which she had been compelled to endure with the world’s ills; and her brother was still the same affectionate, good, endearing boy as when I first intro- duced you to him. Oh? it was crucl—it was cruel that they should suffer thus—those poor orphans who had never injured a living soul, who clung to each other so tenderly, and who night and morning put up their prayers to the Almighty that He would be pleased to change their wretched, wretched lot. But, alas! those supplications—so sincere, so earnest, so respectful and adoring towards the Majesty of Heaven —remained apparently unheard; and on the parti- cular night to which allusion has been made, do we find that sister and brother on the verge of perishing through sheer destitution ! “<* Varry,’ said Julia, after a long pause, ‘ are you not very hungry ?’—‘Not very, dcar sister,’ he returned, while tears started into his eyes.—Oh! my darling boy, you are starving!’ she cried frantically, as she strained him to her breast: then, growing more com- posed, she said, ‘But this mustnot be! Tere, Harry, take this shawl over to that shop which you sec op- posite, give it to any one whom you may seo behind the counter, and you will recetye some money ana a ee — tt rege rot ne a + eth ante) small card in exchange. Then go to the baker’s and buy a loaf; and return as quickly as you can’—The boy hesitated; and at length said, ‘ But, Julia dear, what will you do without your shawl? You cannot go out.’—‘And you cannot starve, she returned hastily; as she almost thrust him, but not harshly, ont of the room. Then, when the door closed behind him, she reseated herself, and -burst into an agony ot tears. It was the first time she had ever sent Harry to the pawnbroker—the first time she had ever al- lowed him to go out into the streets alone after dusk. And this was not all that pained her: Oh! she was oppressed with the most direful apprehensions —for now she was indeed a prisoner in that wretched gar- ret—she could not go out to seek for work, and work would not be brought to her. And again, and again, and again—for the thousandth time that day—did she ask herself what was to be done, and what was to be- come of them? While she was wrapt up in these harrowing reflections, she heard certain well-known— too well-known steps ascending the stairs; and now she felt that even the crushing amount of misery which already weighed upon her, was not complete. The door was thrown open; and a stout, elderly, red- faced woman, who had evidently been drinking, walked unceremoniously into the chamber. ‘ Now, Miss,’ she cried, almost ferociously, ‘are you going to pay me the three weeks’ rent that’s due? If not, be so kind as to tramp, and make room for them as will pay; ’cos I’ve a respectable married couple which is ready to take the place this very night.’—* If you will wait a few minutes,’ answered Julia, in a faint tone, «1 will pay you as much as I can.’—' Come, that won't do for me,’ vociferated the woman: ‘I see your brother go out with vour shawl, and I know what’s what. But if you’re obliged to spout your things to pay a trifle this weel, how will you be able to pay any at all next Saturday, much less cash up al- together ?—* Heavens! havo patience, my dear madam, and I will endeavour to pay you all, as soon as pos- sible!’ said the poor young woman, reduced to des- pair. —‘Patience, indeed!’ repented: the landlady, contemptuously: ‘and who will have patience with me? There is the Taxes will call on Monday morn- ing; and the Water Rate has been put off till he’s tired of coming near the place, So I can’t and won't wait no longer for such a beggar as you,’ — At this goading insolence Julia’s grief redoubled.—‘ Oh! crying won’t pay no bills,’ ejaculated the inhuman landlady. ‘And now I think on it, I'll just look at the bed-clothes and see that you haven’t pawned none of the blankets !'—‘T would sooner starve—aye, and see my brother perish throngh want also, than commit such an act!’ cried Julia, starting to her fect, while her indignation actually tended to mitigate the acuteness of her gricf. ‘ Well, 1 ’spose yon’re honest,’ said the woman, tomewhat ashamed of herself: ‘but I must have my muuey to-night all the same; if not, you and your brother had better turn ont at once’— ‘Irepeat that it isimpossible forme to pay you all I owe this evening,’ exclaimed poor Julia, now con- descending to the adoption of a tone of appenl; ¢ and I implore you not to drive me and that dear boy home- less into the strects.—‘A pretty gal like you need never want money,’ said the woman, fixing a meari- ing iook upon the unhappy dress-maker; ‘and if you would only take my advice ——.’—* Begone,’ crind Julia in « voice so penetrating that it seemed to thrill through the brain of the vile wrejch who was about to develope the most infamous resources to the view of » EConnicloooks (CO)