Lizzy Glenn; Or, The Trials of a Seamstress. T. S. Arthur

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CHAPTER IV.

      LIZZY GLENN AROUSES THE INTEREST OF A STRANGER.

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      BERLAPS was leaning over his counter late in the afternoon of the second day from that on which the person calling herself Lizzy Glenn had applied for and obtained work, when a young man entered and asked for some article of dress. While the tailor was still engaged in waiting upon him, the young woman came in, carrying a small bundle in her hand. Her vail was drawn over her face as she entered; but was thrown partly aside as she retired to the back part of the store, where she stood awaiting the leisure of the man from whom she had obtained work. As she passed him, the customer turned and looked at her earnestly for a moment or two, and then asked in a whisper—

      "Who is that?"

      "Only one of our sewing-girls," replied Berlaps, indifferently.

      "What is her name?"

      "I forget. She's a girl to whom we gave out work day before yesterday."

      This paused the man to look at her more attentively. The young woman, becoming conscious that she was an object of close scrutiny by a stranger, turned partly away, so that her face could not be seen.

      "There is something singularly familiar about her," mused the young man as he left the store. "Who can she be? I have certainly seen her before."

      "Ah, good-afternoon, Perkins!" said a familiar voice, while a friendly hand was laid upon his arm. "You seem to be in a browner mood than usual!"

      "I am a little thoughtful, or abstracted, just as you please," replied the individual addressed.

      "Are you, indeed? May I ask the reason?"

      "The reason hardly seems to be a sufficient one—and, therefore, I will not jeopardize your good opinion of me by mentioning it."

      "O, very well! I am content to have my friends conceal from me their weaknesses."

      The two young men then walked on arm and arm for some distance. They seemed to be walking more for the sake of a little conversation than for any thing else, for they went slowly, and after winding about among the labyrinthine streets for ten or twenty minutes, took their way back again.

      "There she is again, as I live!" Perkins exclaimed, half pausing, as the young woman he had seen at the tailor's passed quickly by them on their turning a corner.

      "You've noticed her before, then?" remarked the friend, whose name was Milford.

      "I saw her a little while ago in a clothing store; and her appearance instantly arrested my attention. Do you know who she is?"

      "I do not. But I'd give something to know. You saw her in a clothing store?"

      "Yes. In the shop of that close-fisted Berlaps. She is one of his seamstresses—a new one, by the way—to whom he has just given work. So he informed me."

      "Indeed! She must be in great extremity to work for his pay. It is only the next remove, I am told, from actual starvation."

      "But tell me what you know of her, Milford. She seems to have attracted your notice, as well as mine."

      "I know nothing of her whatever," replied the young man, "except that I have met her five or six times during the last two weeks, upon the Warren Bridge, on her way to Charlestown. Something in her appearance arrested my attention the first time I saw her. But I have never been able to catch more than a glimpse of her face. Her vail is usually drawn."

      "Who can she visit in Charlestown?"

      "No one, I have good reason to think."

      "Why so?"

      "I had once the curiosity to follow her as far as I deemed it prudent and courteous. She kept on entirely through the town—at least through the thickly settled portion of it. Her step was too quick for the step of one who was merely going to pay a friendly visit."

      "You have had, if I understand you, at least a glimpse of her countenance?"

      "Yes. Once, in passing her, her vail was half drawn aside, as if to get a freer draught of air."

      "And her face?"

      "Was thin and pale."

      "And beautiful?"

      "So I should call it. Not pretty—not a mere doll's face—but intellectually beautiful; yet full of softness. In fact, the face of a woman with a mind and heart. But sorrow had touched her—and pain. And, above all, the marks of crushed affection were too plainly visible upon her young countenance. All this could be seen at the single glance I obtained, before her vail was drawn hurriedly down."

      "Strange that she should seek so to hide her face from every eye. Can it be that she is some one we have known, who has fallen so low?"

      "No, I think not," replied Milford. "I am certain that I have never seen her before. Her face is a strange one to me. At least, the glance I had revealed no familiar feature."

      "Well, I, for one, am resolved to know more about her," remarked Perkins, as the two friends paused before separating. "Since she has awakened so sudden, and yet so strong СКАЧАТЬ