CHAPTER CXLIII.

CONCLUSION OF THE HISTORY OF THE DRESS-MAKER: A LOVE STORY.

“Two days after Lady Caroline Jerningham’s letter had been sent, the

Marquis of Wilmington arrived in London; and, hastening to Hanover

Square, he obtained an immediate interview with his sister. Pale,

trembling, and unable to endure his glance, she awaited in torturing

suspense the first words that should issue from his lips; and never

was relief from agonising feelings more welcome or more complete,

than when the Marquis, taking his sister’s hand, said in a gentle

though mournful voice, ‘Caroline, I am not come to reproach you--much

less to add to your afflictions by the heartless cruelty and absurd

inutility of an exposure. No: I give you all my sympathy; and I thank

you most sincerely for having confessed every thing, that you might

restore your friend to my favour.’--Lady Caroline threw herself into

her brother’s arms, and wept upon his breast; but when the emotions

attendant upon this meeting had somewhat subsided, the Marquis said,

‘Heaven be thanked that Julia is innocent! Deeply, deeply as I deplore

the sad circumstances involved in your revelation, Caroline, yet it

is a relief to know that she--that poor, suffering, wrongly suspected

girl--is worthy of all my love! And if I before loved her--if I

before esteemed and admired her as the pattern of every thing great

and noble, generous and amiable in Woman,--Oh! now what strength have

those sentiments acquired! No time must be lost in finding her out;

and this moment shall I enter upon the search.’--The Marquis then

took a hasty leave of his sister, and in the first instance repaired

to Mr. Richardson to consult him upon the subject. Without in any way

compromising his sister, the Marquis related enough to let the worthy

lawyer know that Julia had been unjustly suspected--that her innocence

was completely established, and that he now longed to find out her

retreat, with the view to make her the fullest possible reparation.

Mr. Richardson then stated that three days previously a porter had

called on him, bringing the key of the house at Camden Town, with

an intimation that Miss Murray surrendered up the tenement to its

proprietor, with all the furniture it contained,--in fact, in the same

condition as when the property was made over to her. A tear stole into

the eye of the Marquis, as he received this proof of Julia’s strict

integrity; and Mr. Richardson advised that an advertisement, drawn

up in a manner calculated to strike Miss Murray’s comprehension, but

ambiguous to the public generally, should be kept standing in the

_Times_ and other widely circulated newspapers until her retreat should

have been discovered. The Marquis approved of this plan; and, leaving

his solicitor to execute it, he departed from the office to pursue

his search elsewhere. He now proceeded to Camden Town, and (having

the key with him) entered the house; but delicacy forbade him to

penetrate into any other rooms save the parlours; and there he found

not a letter nor a scrap of paper that might afford any clue to the

place whither Julia had retired. His heart was heavy--his grief was

profound; and frequent sighs rent his manly breast as he repaired to

the cottage where the child--his sister’s child--dwelt under the care

of Mrs. Porter. His strange manner on his previous visit did not obtain

for him a very welcome reception at the hands of that female; but

when she found that he spoke kindly and inquired anxiously concerning

the infant, her reserve began to dissipate, and she at last thought

him a very agreeable gentleman. The child was brought to him, and he

kissed it affectionately. An allusion which Mrs. Porter happened to

make to Miss Murray, enabled the Marquis to turn the conversation upon

that loved being who seemed lost to him; and now he heard the warmest

and sincerest praises uttered in regard to her; but not a syllable

affording a trace of her present abode. In fact, it was very evident

that Mrs. Porter was as ignorant as himself in that respect; and still

was it with a heavy heart that the nobleman turned away to prosecute

his search elsewhere.

“He had learnt from his sister that Julia, her little brother, and the

old housekeeper had taken their departure together in a hackney-coach;

and he concluded that the vehicle was hired from some stand in the

neighbourhood. Behold, then, this rich and well-born peer visiting all

the stations of cabs and coaches in the vicinity, and pursuing his

enquiries amongst a class of men whom his liberality alone succeeded

in divesting of their habitual insolence. But still all his endeavours

to solve the painful mystery were fruitless; and, after a weary day’s

researches, he returned home, exhausted in physical energy and worn

down by mental depression, to his magnificent house in Belgrave Square.

His reliance was now in the advertisements which were to be inserted

in the newspapers; but even this hope was almost stifled within him

by the reminiscence that Julia seldom read the public journals. Day

after day passed--weeks glided by--these had swollen into months in

the lapse of time--and winter returned;--but still no trace of Julia!

In the interval, matters of importance had occurred in respect to Lady

Caroline Jerningham. The child had died in a fit of convulsions, to

which it was subject, and in spite of the tender care of Mrs. Porter

and the attentions of the medical man: the remains of the infant were

interred in the churchyard of Old Saint Pancras; and the Porters, who

were well rewarded for their kindness to the child from the moment

of its birth until that of its death, still remain in ignorance of

the real name and the rank of its mother. Not many weeks after the

removal from this earthly sphere of the evidence of Lady Caroline’s

frailty, Lord Hartley returned home from abroad; and his first act,

on arriving in London, was to hasten to Hanover Square. His heart had

remained constant to Lady Caroline; and he now boldly claimed her hand

of the Marchioness, who received him most graciously, there being, in

the Dowager’s eyes, a vast deal of difference between the noble and

wealthy Baron Hartley of Hartley, and the poor Lieutenant Quentin of

His Majesty’s Ship _The Tremendous_. The _Morning Post_ accordingly

announced the ‘approaching marriage in high life;’ and the ceremony

took place in November, 1835,--precisely one year after the date of the

commencement of our tale.

“Thus Lady Caroline Jerningham became Lady Hartley: she was united to

the object of her affection;--but her happiness was not complete. Every

day--every hour did she think of poor Julia Murray; and her husband, to

whom she had confided every thing, shared in her deep anxiety to obtain

a clue to that excellent young woman. The Marquis of Wilmington had

put into execution every means which human ingenuity could devise to

procure that clue: but all to no effect; and he now gave himself up to

despair. His health began to fail him; and his appearance speedily grew

much altered. Vainly did his sister endeavour to console him: she also

required solace, and almost in respect to the same cause,--for if the

one mourned the loss of an intended bride, the other deplored that of a

dear friend!

“I said that the incident of my tale had brought me down to the month

of November, 1835; and it now becomes necessary to make some mention

of Julia Murray. It was a night of pouring rain and gushing wind, as

on that when she first encountered the Marquis of Wilmington; and the

unhappy young woman was seated in a miserable garret in some street

near Covent Garden Market. The cheerless chamber was almost completely

denuded of furniture; and the little that was in it, belonged not to

her. Not a spark of fire appeared in the hearth;--the cupboard door

was opened, but no food was seen on the shelves;--and the candle that

shed a fitful light around the bare, damp walls, was every moment in

danger of being extinguished by the cold draught from the ill-closed

window. Leaning her head upon her hand, and her elbow on the table,

Julia sate, gazing down on the upturned countenance of her brother

who occupied a stool at her feet. Pale and wan were their faces: gone

was the bloom of health from the cheeks of the once happy, beauteous

boy,--gone, too, was the delicate tinge of carnation that had been

wont to enhance the loveliness of his sister. Misery was in that

garret--misery for _two_--misery for that almost heart-broken young

woman and that affectionate, grateful boy. The want of needle-work and

illness had plunged Julia into the direst poverty: she could have borne

it all had she been by herself--borne it almost without repining;--but

when she looked on the pale face of her little brother, saw that he

was famishing for want, and knew also that he endeavoured to conceal

his hunger from her for fear of increasing _her_ grief,--oh! it was

this--it was _this_ that crushed and overwhelmed her! She glanced

around: there was not an article of clothing that could be now spared

to pledge, save her scanty shawl--and then how could she go abroad

to ask for needlework without it? Heavens! twelve hours had the boy

already fasted--twenty-four hours had elapsed since Julia had tasted

a morsel of food;--for she had almost forced the last crust into his

mouth! And now how many hours more must elapse ere a chance might

present itself to afford them a meal? And if no work could be obtained,

what were they to do? What, indeed!

“In the midst of all these bitter--harrowing reflections, a thought--or

rather a reminiscence flashed to Julia’s mind;--but it was only to

plunge her more deeply into the abyss of woe, and not to solace

her. Just one year had elapsed since she had first met the Marquis

of Wilmington,--just one year, day for day: and through how many

vicissitudes had she and her darling brother passed in that period!

They had known prosperity and happiness: they had also experienced

the bitterest misery, and yet they had not deserved the vengeance

of heaven: but, then, those whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth!

Still pure and guileless--still innocent and artless, Julia Murray’s

principles had remained unshaken by the rude contest which she had

been compelled to endure with the world’s ills; and her brother was

still the same affectionate, good, endearing boy as when I first

introduced you to him. Oh! it was cruel--it was cruel that _they_

should suffer thus--those poor orphans who had never injured a living

soul, who clung to each other so tenderly, and who night and morning

put up their prayers to the Almighty that He would be pleased to change

their wretched, wretched lot. But, alas! those supplications--so

sincere, so earnest, so respectful and adoring towards the Majesty of

Heaven--remained apparently unheard; and on the particular night to

which allusion has been made, do we find that sister and brother on the

verge of perishing through sheer destitution!

“‘Harry,’ said Julia, after a long pause, ‘are you not very

hungry?’--‘Not very, dear sister,’ he returned, while tears started

into his eyes.--‘Oh! my darling boy, you are starving!’ she cried

frantically, as she strained him to her breast: then, growing more

composed, she said, ‘But this must not be! Here, Harry, take this

shawl over to that shop which you see opposite, give it to any one

whom you may see behind the counter, and you will receive some money

and a small card in exchange. Then go to the baker’s and buy a loaf;

and return as quickly as you can.’--The boy hesitated; and at length

said, ‘But, Julia dear, what will you do without your shawl? You

cannot go out.’--‘And you cannot starve,’ she returned hastily; as

she almost thrust him, but not harshly, out of the room. Then, when

the door closed behind him, she reseated herself, and burst into an

agony of tears. It was the first time she had ever sent Harry to the

pawnbroker--the first time she had ever allowed him to go out into the

streets alone after dusk. And this was not all that pained her: Oh!

she was oppressed with the most direful apprehensions--for now she was

indeed a prisoner in that wretched garret--she could not go out to seek

for work, and work would not be brought to her. And again, and again,

and again--for the thousandth time that day--did she ask herself what

was to be done, and what was to become of them? While she was wrapt

up in these harrowing reflections, she heard certain well-known--too

well-known steps ascending the stairs; and now she felt that even the

crushing amount of misery which already weighed upon her, was not

complete. The door was thrown open; and a stout, elderly, red-faced

woman, who had evidently been drinking, walked unceremoniously into the

chamber. ‘Now, Miss,’ she cried, almost ferociously, ‘are you going

to pay me the three weeks’ rent that’s due? If not, be so kind as to

tramp, and make room for them as will pay; ‘cos I’ve a respectable

married couple which is ready to take the place this very night.’--‘If

you will wait a few minutes,’ answered Julia, in a faint tone, ‘I will

pay you as much as I can.’--‘Come, that won’t do for me,’ vociferated

the woman: ‘I see your brother go out with your shawl, and I know

what’s what. But if you’re obliged to spout your things to pay a trifle

this week, how will you be able to pay any at all next Saturday, much

less cash up altogether?’--‘Heavens! have patience, my dear madam, and

I will endeavour to pay you all, as soon as possible!’ said the poor

young woman, reduced to despair.--‘Patience, indeed!’ repeated the

landlady, contemptuously: ‘and who will have patience with me? There

is the Taxes will call on Monday morning; and the Water Rate has been

put off till he’s tired of coming near the place. So I can’t and won’t

wait no longer for such a beggar as you.’--At this goading insolence

Julia’s grief redoubled.--‘Oh! crying won’t pay no bills,’ ejaculated

the inhuman landlady. ‘And now I think on it, I’ll just look at the

bed-clothes and see that you haven’t pawned none of the blankets!’--‘I

would sooner starve--aye, and see my brother perish through want also,

than commit such an act!’ cried Julia, starting to her feet, while her

indignation actually tended to mitigate the acuteness of her grief.

‘Well, I ’spose you’re honest,’ said the woman, somewhat ashamed of

herself: ‘but I must have my money to-night all the same; if not, you

and your brother had better turn out at once.’--‘I repeat that it is

impossible for me to pay you all I owe this evening,’ exclaimed poor

Julia, now condescending to the adoption of a tone of appeal; ‘and

I implore you not to drive me and that dear boy homeless into the

streets.’--‘A pretty gal like you need never want money,’ said the

woman, fixing a meaning look upon the unhappy dress-maker; ‘and if

you would only take my advice----.’--‘Begone,’ cried Julia in a voice

so penetrating that it seemed to thrill through the brain of the vile

wretch who was about to develope the most infamous resources to the

view of that pure-minded girl--‘Begone, indeed!’ repeated the woman,

recovering her insolence: ‘that’s a pretty thing to say to me, that

you owe money to. However, once more I tell you that I _will_ be paid

to-night; or else, when my husband comes home from the public-house,

off you’ll bundle!’--Thus speaking, the wretch bounced out of the room,

leaving the door wide open behind her.

“Julia wrung her hands in despair; and again she asked herself those

unanswerable questions--What would become of them? and what was to

be done? At this moment, when her brain appeared to reel and reason

was rocking on its throne, the sounds of hasty steps ascending the

stairs met her ear, and she heard Harry’s voice exclaim, ‘Up higher

still--to the very top!’ And up those hasty footsteps came:--good

heavens! were fresh miseries in store for her? But scarcely had this

thought traversed poor Julia’s imagination, when some one darted

into the room--and as she was sinking on the floor, through terror,

want, and exhaustion, she was received in the arms of the Marquis

of Wilmington!--‘Julia, dearest Julia!’ he cried, in an impassioned

tone, as he strained the insensible form of his beloved one to his

breast: and that voice, sounding on her ear as if heard in the midst

of a dream, recalled her to herself;--and opening her eyes slowly,

she encountered the tender looks that were bent upon her.--‘Is it

possible!’ she exclaimed, tearing herself from the nobleman’s embrace:

‘your lordship here?’--‘Yes: here to implore your pardon for the past;

to declare to you how profound is the regret and how bitter the remorse

I have experienced for the unfeeling haste with which I judged you

on the barest suspicion; and to offer you my hand, Julia,’ added the

Marquis, ‘if you will now condescend to accept it!’--But I need not

pause to describe in detail the discourse which now ensued: suffice it

to say that the nobleman gave the fullest explanation of all that had

occurred since he had last seen Julia--how his sister had confessed her

frailty, and thus cleared up the suspicion which had so unfortunately

fallen upon Julia--how the child had died--how Lady Caroline had

married Lord Hartley--and how every possible search had been made for

so many long, weary months, after Miss Murray. It must be added that

the Marquis, in his almost ceaseless wanderings about the metropolis in

the prosecution of that search, happened on this memorable evening to

pass through the very neighbourhood where Julia resided; and as Harry

emerged from the pawnbroker’s shop, the light flashed full upon the

little fellow’s countenance, which, in spite of its altered appearance,

was immediately recognised by the Marquis.

“But little more remains to be told. A messenger was instantly

despatched to Hartley House with a note from Lord Wilmington; and in

less than an hour his sister Caroline, accompanied by her faithful

lady’s maid, who had charge of a box full of clothes, arrived in her

carriage at the door of the house where Julia occupied the miserable

garret! Affecting indeed was the meeting between the two friends; and

while the Marquis took Harry away with him to the nearest ready-made

clothes’ shop to equip the boy from head to foot in new apparel, Lady

Hartley hastily made such a change in Julia’s appearance, by means

of the contents of the box before alluded to, that when his lordship

returned he was charmed to see that, though pale, she was still

eminently beautiful. In the meantime the rumour had spread throughout

the house how a great nobleman and a great lady had come to take the

poor dress-maker away in their carriage; and now the vile woman who

only an hour before had menaced Julia with ejectment--who had insulted

her by offering to search the few miserable things in the room to see

if any had been made away with--and who had hinted at an infamous

proposal from which the young creature’s soul recoiled in horror and

loathing,--that same detestable wretch was now most assiduous in

offering the use of her parlour and rendering herself so officiously

busy, that Lady Hartley was forced to order her in a peremptory manner

to retire. In fine, all necessary preparations being made so that

Julia and her brother might appear in a becoming way at the splendid

mansion whither they were now about to repair, the happy party entered

the carriage, which drove straight to Hartley House, where Caroline’s

husband received Julia and Harry in the kindest possible manner.

“Thus was the aspect of affairs signally changed; and from the cold,

cheerless garret, where want stared them in the face, were the sister

and brother suddenly wafted into the very bosom of luxury, comfort,

and happiness. Virtue met with its reward, after the many trials to

which it had been subjected, and the numerous temptations it had

triumphantly passed through. Mr. Richardson, the lawyer, was overjoyed

when the Marquis called upon him next morning and related all that had

happened; and the instant his lordship had taken his departure, the

worthy solicitor hastened to Hanover Square, resolved, if possible, to

accomplish a certain project which he had in view. Presenting himself

to the Dowager-Marchioness, he argued with her upon the inutility and

injustice, the folly and the cruelty of her opposition to an alliance

which so nearly regarded her son’s happiness; and he dilated so warmly

upon the good qualities of Julia Murray, that her ladyship, who had

at first heard him with impatience, began to listen attentively. In a

word, Mr. Richardson succeeded in persuading the Marchioness to have

the credit of assenting to an union which she had not the power to

prevent; and the policy of this step at last triumphed over her other

repugnances. She accordingly rang the bell, ordered the carriage,

and proceeded with the lawyer to Hartley House, where her presence

augmented the happiness already experienced beneath that roof. Thus

nothing was now wanting to complete the felicity of all those in whom,

I hope, you are interested; and it was astonishing how speedily the

bloom came back to the countenance of Julia, and the ruddy hues of

health to the cheeks of little Harry.

“Six weeks after the discovery of the orphans in their wretched garret,

Julia became the Marchioness of Wilmington. Happy--happy was that

bridal, and beautiful was the blushing bride--so beautiful that a

stranger would not have suspected the privations and miseries which she

had undergone. And, as if heaven, in its justice, were determined to

afford a signal proof that though it can chasten, it can also reward

as fully--from the day that this union took place, Julia and her

brother have not known a care. Possessing the power to do good, the

Marchioness of Wilmington has been enabled to soothe many an afflicted

heart; and her experience of the past has taught her that the severest

misery is that which pines unseen and hides itself in garrets--not

that which obtrudes itself, in the shape of mendicity, upon the public

eye. Her _secret charities_ are therefore boundless; and the elevation

of such a woman to rank and the possession of immense wealth, has

proved beneficial to thousands. I must not forget to observe that the

housekeeper who had accompanied her on her departure from Camden Town,

and who had subsequently returned home, at Julia’s request, to her

friends, once more became an attendant in the household of the mistress

whom she loved; and every one who had in any way shown kindness to my

heroine when she was but the humble dress-maker, was sought out and

liberally rewarded, by her whose heart had undergone no change although

she had become the Marchioness of Wilmington.”