She took up a handful,
and presently picked out one perfect valve like a rose petal, three
fairy cups of limpets, four ribbed cowries, and a thing like a green
pea. Of course she knew no names, but a kind of interest was
awakened by the beauty and variety before her. A pile of papers had
been provided, and the housewife [a pocket-size container for small
articles (as thread)--D.L.] which Betty made her always carry in her
pocket furnished wherewithal to make up a number of bags for the
lesser sorts; and she went to work, her troubles somewhat beguiled
by the novel beauties of each delicate creature she disinterred, but
remembering with a pang how, if she could have described them to Mr.
Belamour, he would have discoursed upon the Order of Nature.
London noises were not the continuous roar of vehicles of the present
day, but there was sound enough to remind the country girl where she
was, and the street cries "Old Clothes!" "Sprats, oh!" "Sweep!" were
heard over the wall, sometimes with tumultuous voices that seemed to
enhance her loneliness, as she sat on the floor, hour after hour,
sifting out the entire shells, and feeling a languid pleasure in
joining the two halves of a bivalve, especially those lovely sunset
shells that have rosy rays diverging from their crimson hinge over
their polished surface, white, or just tinted with the hues of a
daffodil sky.
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