She was only a cap-front maker, working for a wholesale house in the city, producing the fronts worn inside women’s bonnets, for sevenpence halfpenny per dozen. She rose at six in the morning, and worked until twelve at night, in order to complete two dozen per diem. Out of the sum thus realized weekly she had to live, pay her lodging, and find herself in clothes.
So she had not much time on her hands, nor much money in her pocket, and was what the every-day world calls a person of no importance.
But she had a heart—a gentle, compassionate, loving heart.
She was a very pretty girl, though her complexion was something wan, and her eyelids were rather tinged with pink; but if these appearances detracted something from her prettiness, what did they not add to the interest and the sympathy raised in the beholder? They told of early rising and midnight toil, the rapid wearing out of young and beautiful human life, so that thousands of thoughtless beings of her own sex might set off to advantage their facial attractions—CHEAPLY.
Not to lengthen this digression—for we shall know much more of this young damsel by and by—Lotte Clinton, for that was her name, hearing the cry of young Vivian for water, entered the apartment, prepared to offer her services if they were likely to be required.
She saw Flora Wilton lying in the arms of Hal Vivian, whose handsome face she recognised in an instant, for she had often observed it from her garret window upturned to the house in which she dwelt, though his look reached not so high as where she sat peering behind her mignionette and nasturtiums.
Hal knew her not, but just now she made her appearance, to his conception, as an angel newly come from Paradise.
He turned his eager eyes upon her.
“Miss Wilton is in deep affliction,” he said, quickly, “she has fainted; will you be so good as to bring some water?”
“Place her in a chair,” said Lotte, softly, “she will be better there—she will have more air. I will run for water, and my smelling salts. Sometimes at night, I grow faint and dizzy, and cannot see my work, and they relieve me then wonderfully.”