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natural curls over her white forehead, and lay in silken masses under her pauper cloak, and escaped like threads of gold betwixt therents made by time in her embrowned hat. The extreme purity and delicacy of her complexion was further relieved by large eyes of that exquisite blue so seldom seen except in the calm depth of summer skies, and by lips so ripely red that they scarcely seemed to match the cheek, until the gaze of some rude admirer brought the mounting and indignant blood there, in proof that they were fitly mated. Features softly chiselled by no rudér hand than that which is so rarely employed on a work of human perfection—the hand of nature, and gifted with a sweetness of expression that it was scarcely possible not to love at the first glance, completed an outward appearance of form and habit that were strikingly at variance with each other. Hurrying onward like a frightened fawn, the girl did not note how unusually dense the crowd was, even for that locality, or how eagerly men were gathering into groups, as if awaiting some event; and at length gladly recognising the place for which she was bound, a shop devoted to the sale of millinery, she entered, and placing her parcel on the counter, humbly intimated that she had brought the work from Mrs. Carr. The person she addressed was the very model of a man-milliner, who taking advantage of the confusion in the shop, which was thronged with people, and under the circumstances not heeding the presence of his master, determined to improve his acquaintance with one whom he had before seen, and condescended to admire.
“And how is the dear old lady—Mrs. Carr, I mean ?” he asked, deliberately unfolding the handkerchief, and bringing his face almost on a level with the counter, in order to stare under the girl's hat.
“She is ill, very ill- and I am anxious to return to her : be good enough to look over these quickly, and let me have the other work."
“Well now, I'm sure,” continued the man, taking no notice of her appeal, “ I've said a thousand times, lately, that Mrs. Carr must be ill, too ill to do the work herself, it has been done so much better;—then I thought of those pretty fingers, and said it was no wonder”
Distressed beyond measure, the girl turned from the utterer of this flippant discourse, and whilst anxiously looking round, caught the eye of the master of the shop, who had not been una observant of her entrance, and who comprehended and respected her distress.
“What is all this about, Jenkins ?” he asked, advan ing and addressing his shopman. “Ah, I see, the work from Mr. Carr: she has worked for us many years and has never giv n more
satisfaction than of late. Jenkins, place a chair here, and call Mrs. Arnold down ;-or stay-you shall go up to her, I dare say you will like it better.”
Leading the way himself, he introduced the girl into a room on the first floor, in which a number of women and girls were at work, and where, having mentioned her errand, he left her. The girl gazed around her, diffidently, with a painful sense of the inferiority of her position; and her self-abasement met with sufficient encouragement from the cold, contemptuous glances occasionally bestowed upon her by the assembled work
The good man of the house had somewhat miscalculated wheu, as a favour, and thinking to spare her feelings, he resigned the girl to the tender mercies of her own sex. Woman, from the general narrowness of her education, and consequently of her views, is peculiarly alive to the petty distinctions appertaining to classes : to the different gradations existing among the classes themselves, and where a conjurer might sometimes well be puzzled to recognise them. None so heartless to woman as woman ;-none so oppressive where there is the power ;-—so coarsely insolent where there is adversity to in. sult; so uncharitable where there is frailty to condemn; so indifferent where there is temporal or spiritual degradation to leave uncared for ;-a sad and humiliating truth, which has been only faintly shadowed forth in the lives of the London workgirls; and which not all the tract-giving propensities of our day can hide under a show of sanctity that, in many cases, only carries about its own condemnatory light. And, as a matter of course, the ladies of the millinery establishment in Saint Paul's Church-yard gave themselves little concern about the humble work-girl, who was ordered to wait until Mrs. Arnold had leisure to attend to her. The girl appeared to be possessed of a sensibility unfortunate in one of her station, and as she stood there (no one had asked her to be seated) her eyes fell, and her face became crimsoned to the temples under a consciousness of the supercilious glances cast upon her from time to time. After the expiration of a most painful half-hour she was summoned forward; her business was summarily disposed of: and to her great relief the girl, with her parcel of work, found herself once more in the street. The crowd was yet denser than before, and sounds of an approaching tumult were booming heavily in the distance. Mounted soldiers and constables were attempting to clear the way, driving back the approaching vehicles of all descriptions, stopping others, and assigning them a temporary stand on either side the street, and checking in no very gentle manner the boisterous encroachments of the mob. A sudden rush made by the latter monster effectually stopped
the further advance of the work-girl, who, to her great terror, found herself in the centre of a group of men of the lowest description, some having boys standing on their shoulders, some infants on their heads; all in that frightful state of merely animal excitement which may be so readily called forth by propular events, and which it is so difficult to keep within lawful bounds. Women, too, were there, rude and altogether unsexed : bandying about coarse jokes with their companions, or vociferating loudly in impatient anticipation of the expected show; some, with hat and cap torn off in the confusion, forcing a way to places where the wet soil lay thickest, or where anything in the shape of a missile was to be obtained. “Here they come ! here they come !” exclaimed hundreds of voices at once : the girl, breathless and terrified, looked up, and saw only as before a number of horsemen, but passing onward in one direction and in good order. There was the Lord Mayor of London in his gala suit, followed by the aldermen, and the governor of the Tower with his officers, and hearty cheers greeted these personages as they passed.
« That's Foster !”—“That's Mackintosh !”_" That's Lord Derwentwater !-Now's
your time, Nell, if you want to have a hit at em !” These and similar exclamations mingled with the hissing, hooting, yelling, groaning, that resounded from all sides. The girl lifted up her pale face and gazed earnestly over the mass of human heads. Several noble looking men were slowly passing by, bound with common cords; their clothes, as well as the animals they rode, betraying that they had met with rough reception elsewhere. A loud beating of drums now added to the confusion and excitement. A large stone, hurled by a woman, struck young Lord Derwentwater on the shoulder; it came from one standing close by the girl, who now held up her clasped hands in supplication :-"Alas! alas !" she exclaimed, “see you not that he is helpless ?”
In common with the rest of his companions in misfortune, Lord Derwentwater had preserved the quiet dignity of his manner throughout the trying scenes of that disgraceful day; his glance was sorrowful rather than stern, but unquailing, and he gazed alternately to the right and to the left, as they passed on. At this moment, whilst looking in the direction whence the missile came, his eyes fell on the fair, sad, young face, and on the uplifted hands bending towards him, and he felt at once that he had one friend amongst the crowd. Turning himself round as well as he could, he smiled and bowed, and so continued gazing until the face and hands were hidden from his sight, and when this happened, the girl dropped both, and burst into a passionate flood of tears. The crowd moved onward, for some time bear
January, 1849.-VOL. LIV.—NO. CCXIII.
ing her along with it, and in the midst of the terror that almost paralyzed all her efforts at escape, she discovered that she had lost her parcel of work. The material of which it was composed was costly; she could never hope to replace it, and to look for it in the crowd would have been an equally fruitless task : the blood that had deserted her pale face flowed back coldly and omiņously on her heart. At this instant a hand was suddenly placed upon ber shoulder.
“What, my beauty of Cornhill !” exclaimed a voice close in her ear. “By Jove it's the same, and lovelier than ever ! I say, Jack, go on and make an excuse for me, I'll be with you presently."
The very dissolute Icoking personage distinguished by the name of Jack, retained his hold of the arm of his companion, and placing his hat over one eye, thus lifted his voice amid the general uproar
· Like the bee I'm ever roving,
With the bee all sweets I sip,
On the cheek or on the lip,
"Hang Tom D'Urfey for his rhymes, and thee for repeating them !” exclaimed the one that had first spoken.
"Do yon mean to say you're not coming ?" asked the musical gentleman, restoring his hat to a perpendicular position.
“Certainly I do," replied the other, and his companion passed on. “Now, my dear,” said the gallant, who having released the girl, continued to follow her as she hurried on, “don't say you've forgotten one who retains such a lively recollection of yourself ; -you wont be so cruel.”
“No,” said the girl, slackening her pace for a moment, and speaking with much bitterness, "I do not say that I have for-gotten you; your features are connected in my thoughts with dark memories already, and this day has added to them another -I would I had never known life, or that I had known less of its heavy trial!" and she again wept passionately as she passed
“Nay, come, I didn't bargain for this,” said the gallant, taken aback; “ upon my honour I would not annoy you for the world. Will you believe me when I say, in all honesty, that I would do any thing in my power to render you service ?"
“I will put your words to the test ;- quit me instantly ;by so doing you will render me great service; I stand in need of none other."
• Well, be it so ! I have pledged my word and will abide by it; yet hear me once more.
Our mutual friend Steele said to you some years ago, here is my address,' and I know you
availed yourself of it;-all I want to say is, here is mine'Henry Burton, White's Coffee House; – Will you take it, and promise to think of me as a brother if ever you stand in worse strait than now?"
The girl paused in evident distress; at length she held out her hand and received the card :
"I have too rarely heard the voice of kindness,” she said, "to turn from it lightly; I shall be glad to think of you as one amongst the few that have wished me well.”
Faithful to his promise, the gallant stood with folded arms watching the girl as she disappeared, and then thoughtfully retracted his steps city ward.
FROM the time of his capture, until Walter Mordaunt delivered him
up to the jailer at Hereford, the man whose miserable career of guilt and shame we have traced, never uttered one word, either of regret or extenuation. From the little they noticed in him, whilst they remained at the Grange, he seemed to dread nothing so much as that his daughter should be apprised of his situation before they got him out of the place; and this, perhaps out of a mistaken kindness, he was spared. Before midnight, heavily mapacled, and with the coarse prison dress still further disfiguring his gaunt, ungainly figure, he was locked up in a cell by himself; and then Walter hastened to discover the parent whom, until the present moment, he had never beheld, and of whose very existence, until a few hours previously, he had had no suspicion.
One of the turnkeys led the wondering Karl and himself through many a dreary gallery, and up many a weary staircase,
* Continued from page 472, vol. liii.