One afternoon at the end of May there penetrated into the largest of
the workrooms that rarest of visitants, a stray sunbeam. Only if the
sun happened to shine at given moments could any of its light fall
directly into the room I speak of; this afternoon, however, all
circumstances were favourable, and behold the floor chequered with
uncertain gleam. The workers were arranged in groups of three,
called 'parties,' consisting of a learner, an improver, and a hand.
All sat with sleeves pushed up to their elbows, and had a habit of
rocking to and fro as they plied their mechanical industry. Owing to
the movement of a cloud, the sunlight spread gradually towards one
of these groups; it touched the skirt, the arms, the head of one of
the girls, who, as if gladdened by the kindly warmth, looked round
and smiled. A smile you would have been pleased to observe--
unconscious, gently thoughtful, rich in possibilities of happiness.
She was quite a young girl, certainly not seventeen, and wore a
smooth grey dress, with a white linen collar; her brown hair was
closely plaited, her head well-shaped, the bend of her neck very
graceful. From her bare arms it could be seen that she was anything
but robustly made, yet her general appearance was not one of
ill-health, and she held herself, even thus late in the day, far
more uprightly than most of her companions.
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