The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 29: what you’re looking at

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Be, THE rather bistre, which shows in its pure transparency the carnation hue of the warm blood,—and her shape was slender, but admirably proportioned. The surgeon had not been many moments in the chamber, ere his quick eye perceived that Mrs. Smith wore a wedding-ring; whereas the lady who was called Mrs. Mordaunt and who was about to be- come a mother, had upon her finger no such evi- dence of the marriage state. Mr. Thurston did not however appear to notice this fact: he saw, by the well-filled purse which peeped half-way out of a reticule that had been tossed ona chair, and by the handsome jewellery belonging to the ladies, that his bill was safe,—and that was sufficient. After an absence of about twenty minutes, Ma- tilda returned with the baby-linen; and her arrival at this instant was most opportune—for shortly afterwards Mrs, Mordaunt became the mother of a male child, CHAPTER V. MORNING IN LONDON.—THE DISOWNED BABE. CoLp, gloomy, and cheerless dawned the wintry morning, like a grey mist that struggles with slow and partial success against night’s darker veil. The frost had broken up suddenly, and was suc- ceeded by a dampness of the atmosphere that hung like a thick and noxious vapour over the mighty metropolis. The water-cress girl, shivering in her scant cloth- ing and with her naked feet and ankles of a livid red as if they were raw, could scarcely give forth the usual cry that proclaimed her presence, so spasmo- dically did her teeth chatter; and as the poor wretch dragged her weary form along, gazing anxiously at the house-doors to see whether the servants were coming out to buy, each bleeding foot left its san- aine trace on the pavement. Alas! unhappy creature —she had risen at five, and for three long hours that morning had she groped in the utter darkness and amidst “the ponds and rivulets in the northern out- skirts, for a few pennyworths of green sprigs that were to give a relish to breakfasts eaten In warm rooms and by cheerful fires! But not a morsel of bread had as yet passed her lips—and her hands and her feet were so numbed that they had lost all sense of feeling as she trod the damp pavement or doled forth her cresses. Soon after this poor gir. had passed along her usual beat, came the milk-maid with cheeks as red as if she were aforest-hoyden, and with her buxom charms denoting by their round, plump, and swell- ing contours, the enjoyment of a vigorous health. She was warmly clad with a thick shawl over her shoulders, and vood stockings, and lace-up leathern boots ; and though she felt the cold, yet “twas not with that shivering wretchedness and shuddering sensation of misery which convulsed the frame of the other. There was moreover a certain cheerful assurance in her strange and fantastic ery ; and at each house where she ‘stopped, she hada pleasant remark to make and a kind greeting to receive. Ten minutes afterwards, the baker came shuf- fling along, with his basket slung to his back and containing the hot rolls enveloped in a blanket; while at the same time the bell of the mufiin- boy thrilled through the damp and heayy ai. on er ee MYSTERIES, At this hour, too, WG Vactsa ahich chowsin ite URE LErMneWAscaoy |WOA Ghin'licurostar)Sviisaint serene eae be seen the servant. maids sweeping out the dust at the front doors or scouring the steps,—then pausing to nod to some acquaintance in the shape of a tradesman’s as- sistant, passing by,—or perhaps tripping down to the iron railings before the houses, just to exchange afew words of friendly gossip with each other. Behold, likewise, the old char-women bustling along to ‘the places where they work,—drawing their thin, scanty shawls as closely around their shivering forms as possible—gazing wistfully at the public-house as they pass it, and thinking how agreeable a dram would prove on such a mise- rable morning—and conning over the last bit of scandal which they have gleaned, in order to retail it anon with all the amplifications their ingenuity can devise. Perhaps, too, at this hour, may be mét two or three of the daughters of crime,—miserable speci- mens of the frail sisterhood, returning home to their wretched abodes after having passed the night in some house of infamy—with their finery all huddled on in a manner indicating that the care which presided over the toilette ere they sallied forth on the previous evening, has not been ob- served in the hurried make-shift of the morning,— lost, degraded, health-shattered creatures, with the natural pallor or sallowness of their features fear- fully visible even beneath the warm artificial com- plexion which rouge has given to them! Yes—and at that period of general rising and breakfasting throughout all save the strictly fashionable quarters of the metropolis, the haltf- naked, shivering, squalid mendicant may be seen crawling, or perhaps shuffling along,—with his shirtless breast all exposed to the bitter air—his hair damp, as if he had slept in a field or wandered all night about the streets—his shoulders thrown for- ward, and his lank arms drawn in tight against his sides, while one hand is clasped over the back of the other in the spasmodic convulsion of a chill that searches him through and through to the very marrow of his bones! Nor less, at this same hour, soon after the dawn of the miserabie winter’s morning, is seen the starveling beggar- -boy,—a lad of tender years, whose growth is stunted by misery, and whose frame is emaciated so that the ribs in his poor little sides may be counted,—the friendless, parentless, and unprotected child, who seems to be the outcast of society—a filthy globule of the moral scum thrown up by the fermenting passions, interests, and selfishness of the great world of London,—a miserable being whose existence is passed in the very gutter, or on the dunghill, or under hedges, and who is not even so enviable as those whose lot alternates between a flash-house and a prison,— a poor doomed boy to whose ear it were a hideous mockery to breathe aword of religion, or of morality, or of the hopes and fears attendant on the Chris tian faith! Yes: cold, gloomy, and cheerless dawned the wintry morning, as the beautiful sisters, Octavia and Pauline Clarendon, began to make preparations for breakfast. They had scarcely closed their eyes all night: but their cheeks glowed with the hues of health, and their spirits were gay aud cheerful as they performed those domestic duties which they chose not to entrust to the char-woman, who had al- ready arrived. COLMA (El NOO KS, COM