University of Virginia Library

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5

3. CHAPTER III.

It was a bright and cheerful May morning,
after a refreshing night shower. Caroline
Archer, with two or three other apprentices
were seated at work upon a superb green riding
dress, which, apparently, was nearly finished.
The morning seemed too lovely to remain
within. Caroline glanced out of the
back window into the little parterre, adorned
with a few flower pots of geraniums and
monthly roses, and sighed. The little canary
bird in the cage hung up by the outside of
the door, sung with most noisy hilarity as the
slanting sun-beams, that poured into the yard
between the tall, surrounding roofs, shone
warm upon his perch, while a mocking bird,
in the neighboring yard of a French peruquier
poured forth a flood of ravishing songs, as if
trying to rival the yellow minstrel by the
richness and wonderful variety of his strains.
Glimpses from the open door were caught of
passengers in the streets—gliding past, all
gay, cheerful, and seemingly happy. Caroline
sighed again, and bending her face over
her work, pursued her toil. She sighed not
to mingle in the gay throng---nor for liberty
—though confinement to one so young and
naturally light hearted, and with a soul to enjoy
the happiness of life was irksome and
trying. She sighed to think of her mother's
lonely and desolate condition, at such a joyous
hour. `How she would enjoy this bright
sunshine! If I could only be at home for
half an hour to lead her forth on a short
walk!' were her thoughts. She had also recently
had a new cause for anxiety. Her mother's
illness had not only exhausted all her
own little wages, but had left her with no
means to meet their quarterly rent of twenty
dollars, which was due that evening at nine
o'clock. She knew not how to obtain it----
knew not what to do. She was, therefore,
sad and thoughtful, and full of anticipation of
evil to those she loved. Unless the rent was
promptly met, she knew that their cruel landlady
(for a coarse, vulgar woman, who kept
an inn at the corner of their street, was the
owner of their tenement,) would, as she had
threatened, seize upon their little furniture,
and turn them into the street.

While she was indulging these happy
thoughts, a young gentleman entered the
shop in front; for Mrs. Carvil, the milliner,
like many others in her line, kept a dry goods
store, in addition to her millinery department.

`There's a customer. I cannot go into the
shop, for this braid must be set on, and if
Mrs. Wharton don't get her dress by eleven
o'clock, I shall lose one of my best customers,'
said Mrs. Carvil, a little lady, with a
very little foot, a very little waist, a very little
beauty, a very little sense, a very little
pug nose, and a very great deal of temper.—
`Caroline, he is a young fellow—you go and
wait on him! And mind you, dare go behind
the counter with that serious, sickly
look! I can see you through the glass door,
and if you dont wear your finest shop-smile
for him, look out—that's all—look out! I am
not agoing to have my customers driven away
by cross looks in my girls—when a smile,
that costs nothing, will make many a young
fellow leave twenty dollars behind him. I
have a certain smile, girls,' she continued,
as Caroline rose to obey her, `that has brought
me in more than one fifty dollar bill in my
time;' and Mrs. Carvil screwed her withered
visage into an extraordinary muscular contortion
that many a man would willingly give
fifty dollars to escape a second infliction of.

Caroline was despatched by Mrs. Carvil to
wait on the young gentleman because she
was the loveliest of her flock, and experience
had shown the milliner the wisdom of this
species of policy. It was only when `fine
gentlemen' were the customers, Caroline was
sent into the shop; on all other occasions
Mrs. Carvil herself, or one of the other girls
officiated.

Caroline entered the shop with a heavy
heart, and as she was passing round the
counter, seeing that the customer was a fashionable
and remarkably handsome young
man, she approached the place where he
stood with a rising color end a step of timidity.

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6

`Have you gloves?' he asked, lifting his
fine eyes to her face.

There was a golden glow of surprise and
an involuntary change to the deepest respect
in the concluding tones of his voice,
as his glance rested on her face, that bore testimony
to her charms. She could not but be
sensible of the cause of his emotion, and the
mantling blush of maidenly embarrassment
heightened her loveliness.

With an agitated hand she took down the
packages of gloves, without lifting her eyes
to the admiring gaze which she knew was
ardently, yet respectfully, stealing glances
of her beauty, laid them before him. He at
length selected several pairs of gloves, and,
taking out an elegant green wallet with a
mimature on the inside, paid for them in silence,
and she delivered them to him in the
same eloquent silence. Caroline was all the
while strangely embarrassed, and so evidently
was the young gentleman; and a timid
glance she had ventured to steal of his face
as he was measuring a pair of gloves upon
his white and symmetrical hand, awakened
in her bosom an interest in him such as she
had never before experienced towards any of
the numerous young gentlemen she had seen.
She could not define it, but it will be plain
to the female reader that it was the first tender
germ of love. When he departed from
the shop, which he did with a bow of the
most respectful admiration, it was with a
heightened cheek, a throbbing heart, and
emotions of mingled pain and pleasure that
Caroline returned to the sewing room.

`How much did he buy?' asked Mrs. Carvil,
as Caroline resumed her needle, and bent
her head low over her work to conceal, beneath
a cloud of curls, the confusion that she
felt was telling tales upon her.

The maiden's reply was low and inaudible,
as her face was still concealed, while her
needle seemed to have forgot its wonted
skill, and made awkward work upon the
edges of the elegant riding habit.

`Miss Archer—if you please,' said Mrs.
Carvil, in the emphatic tone and accent of
offended dignity, bridling up her person, and
looking angrily at her apprentice.

`Six pairs, ma'am,' said Caroline more distinctly,
without raising her head.

`I am glad you have found your tongue,
Miss. What are you doing, trollop? Look
at them stitches. As I am a living woman, if
the girl is not working a button-hole stitch
on the hem. If you don't know what you're
about, Caroline Archer, you had best put on
your bonnet and shawl. A hint's enough to
some folks.'

Caroline's cheek now became as pale as it
was hitherto roseate; and really alarmed at
the angry language of her mistress, she instantly
picked out the unfortunate button-hole
stitch, and nimbly plying her needle for
the next half hour, when the riding dress was
completed, amply atoned for her fault.