The Seamstress; or, The White Slave of England — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

FF SS ES aS tS SS ND settee Gite are eaten atten a> a Sc cr eet teen ciseatstanetsennnwenees eum aumae«* «am | ee ee ——— ee THE SEAMSTRESS. a“ ference to the past, and concentrating all my ego- tistical regards in what was then the grand and brilliant present,—I acted a base, cowardly, un- natural part, and thereby prepared the way for a And this wretchedness is now wretched future ! at hand—it has come—it is here!” And as these thoughts swept hke vultures through the brain of the Duchess of Belmont, she threw her arms around her daughter’s neck and pressed that dying girl to her bosom with all the frenzied force of unutterable despair! On his side, My. Lavenham was almost dis- tracted at the thought of having thus discovered the existence of his child in time only to lose her for ever! He knew that she was amiable—well principled — virtuous: he had himself received proofs of her generous nature and her lofty feel- ings;—and his eyes informed him that, even in her wasting, desolating illness, she was beautiful beyond all power of painting to delineate or of poesy to pourtray. Then, too, as his mental vision swept rapidly over the dark volume of the past,— that volume whose mysteries had in many respects only been revealed to him within the last two hours,—he could not help teeling that Virginia had been neglected — cruelly neglected by her mother, and that the results of such utter aban- donment were the crushing toils, acute privations, and varied sufferings which had produced the malady that was bearing her onward to the tomb! Then, as Mr. Lavenham embraced the dying girlin his turn, he wept over her—Oh! he wept like an infant ;—and he strained her to his breast —end the immensity of his affliction made him childish for the moment, so that he besoucht her, in a vending tone of indescribable anguish, not to die ! But the Marquis of Arden—the tond, the faith- ful, the adoring Charles,—what were his feelings now? Eternal God! why should there be so much bitter woe upon earth ? wherefore should such illi- mitable affliction enter into the current of mortal destiny? Language hath no words strong enough to describe the grief of the unhappy young man. He was at length reunited to his Virginia: but how? and under what circumstances? Oh! his worst fears were confirmed—the many hideous dveams which he had experienced concerning her, were terribly realized. Want—privation—tyranny —cruelty—anguish—sickness— just heavens ! all these had she known, that poor girl whose hand would not have even despoiled a flower in thought- less mood, and whose foot had never trodden upon a worm with heedless step! Was she, then, doomed to die thus early!—was Death already hovering over the couch of the innocent, the beautiful, and the well-beloved? Oh! would she not be per- mitted to live for a few years—or at least for a few months—to taste some small amount of happiness as an indemnity for all the woes, the sufferings, the sorrows which had poisoned the very springs of her existence? Virginia, Virginia! wast thou in- deed about to die ? And as all these agonizing thoughts flowed through the mind of the Marquis of Arden, he fell upon his knees by the side of the couch—he took the small delicate hand of the dying girl—he pressed it to his lips—and he covered it with the tenderest kisses and the bitterest tears. That morning—until the arrival of those who were now so dear to her-—-the poor seamstress had No. 17,—THrE SEAMSTRESs. ee ee er SS te se ae _——o wt eee a ee 129 Se ee displayed the holiest, serenest, most Christian re- signation to her fate. She had even looked for. ward without excitement to the possibility—or indeed, the probability of receiving a visit from Mr. Osmond, on whom she had intended to bestow her forgiveness, so that she might depart in peace with all the world! But she had not then foreseen all that was to take place within a few short hours: she had not then anticipated the surprising reve- lations which were about to meet her ears! She did not know, when breathing her morning prayer and assuring her Maker that she was prepared to surrender up her breath at His bidding, that ere the sun should have passed the meridian on this eventful day, a mother would come to claim her— a father would arrive to acknowledge her—and the object of her virgin love would be restored to her ! No—nor did she feel the slightest presentiment of the grateful truths that were in store for her rela- tive to her lover’s feith and honour,—and how the unknown, obscure Mr. Osmond was in reality the bearer o: a proud title and a lofty name! In all these particulars had a marvellous change been wrought within the compass of a few short hours! Was the maiden. then, resigned to meet dissolution now ? was she prepared to leave the parents whom she had found, and the loved one who was restored to her? Oh! have we not already said that poor Virginia felt how hard it was to die at the moment when the dark clouds of her destiny were breaking and flying as if upon the wings of a whirlwind, and revealing the sunny glory of an azure heaven beyond! But when she cast her dewy eyes around, and met the looks that were fixed in unutterable sad- ness and blank despair upon her, she experienced a sudden revival of the Christian spirit of resig- nation which had animated her soul ere the de- velopment of the varied and exciting scenes of the last hour. In the deep despondency which had seized upon her father and her mother, and in the frantic wildness of the affliction to which Charles had become a prey, the poor girl beheld a motive for exercising all her own moral courage and arm- ing herself with all the fortitude which she could possibly summon to her aid. In silence her soul spoke for a few moments,—fervently she prayed, although her lips moved not ;—and it seemed as if a responsive voice came whisperingly from the celestial spheres—a voice full of heaven’s own blessed melody and which she alone could hear,— breathing hope of eternal bliss in the angel state that was approaching! And thus was it that with a smile of ineffable sweetness upon her lips,—a smile which was never- theless mournfully compatible with the deep and touching pathos of the scene,—she said, “ Weep not for me, dear parents—weep not on my account, beloved Charles: I am going to another and hap- pier world !” “Oh! do not talk thus, my darling child!” ex- claimed the Duchess ot Belmont, with rending voice and distracted manner. “You must live— live to bless us all with your sweet smiles——” ‘ * And become the joy of your father’s heart,” murmured Mr. Lavenham: “for I love you, Vir- ginia—I love you as tenderly, as profoundly as if you had been with me from your infancy !”’ “ Dearest, dearest girl,’’ cried Charles, as he pressed her hand to his lips,‘ you must not give way to gloomy apprehensions, God will not take JOO (SO)