Almost frantic, she wandered about without an aim, feeling that she could not go back to the kind people who had sheltered her, unless she had some prospect of lifting herself out of her desolate destitution, and recompensing them, at least, for her board, although she could never repay the service and the attention they had rendered to her.
She wandered through the streets, growing weak and faint from an exertion to which she was not equal, and from being many hours without food, gradually becoming desperate, as hopeless. She thought of the coming night and the dark waters that swept silently beneath the frowning arches of the bridges which spanned their breadth, and an ever-recurring thought kept ringing in her ears—
"Anywhere, anywhere—
Out of the world,”
suddenly her eyes fell upon a printed bill; it said: “One thousand cap-front hands wanted!” Not a second elapsed between her discovery of that bill and the resting of her trembling hand upon the knocker of the door. Her timid summons was responded to, and her application for work met with success.
She was requested to enter a room and to sit down, and “make a pattern.” She was furnished with materials, and it was not long before she produced a “front,” which gave great satisfaction to the employer. The answers to inquiries put to her being deemed satisfactory, materials for twelve dozen fronts were given to her, in a box, which she was to return with her work.
With a light heart and a heavy parcel she returned to Mrs. Bantom. Constant work was promised to her, provided she was punctual, and her work was approved of. She had no fears about that. She promised the work on the following Friday night. The task could only be accomplished by incessant toil, but she resolved to accomplish it, and she did.
In the little squalid bedroom she sat to her exacting toil; few were the hours of sleep she obtained during the time between the commencement and the close of her labours, but she was rewarded by completing the last front within an hour of the time specified. More fit for bed than for a journey through the crowded streets, she staggered rather than walked to the house of her new employer.
Her work was given in, and it was commended. She was told to come the following evening, at six, the time when the workers were paid, and bring her book, when she would receive the money due to her, and more work would be given to her.
Elated, she returned to her poor abode, and slept happily that night at least. She had in five days and nights—there was not much to be taken out for sleep—earned ten shillings. She hoped the next week to earn a like sum, and by self-sacrifices, assisted by the kind forbearance of the Bantoms, to gradually clear off her debt, and to get herself clothes, which she should wear with the satisfaction that they were her own.
Ah! she raised up wonderful and glittering fabrics, but they were based upon most intangible foundations. However, she slumbered lightly, and rose refreshed, busying herself the whole of the day in lightening Mrs. Bantom’s labours by assisting her in attending to her small regiment of blessings.
At six o’clock the next evening punctually, and with anxious hopes, she stood before the house of her new employer. She looked up wistfully at it. It wore a peculiar air of silence and dulness which she had not before observed. She did not pause to think upon the impression thus suddenly raised, but knocked at the door. A pang smote her breast as it occurred to her that a hollow sound echoed through the house on the fall of the knocker, as though it was empty. She instinctively again cast her eyes upwards; the windows were all closed; there were no blinds, but all was dark within the house, and so still—so dreadfully still.