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Vera, [pseud.], 1865-

"The Doctor's Daughter"


Free, therefore, to dispose of myself as I wished for the next hour, I
put on my things and went to stroll about the busy streets of the
city.
Avoiding the fine, open thoroughfares, where business and pleasure
were airing themselves, I leisurely turned down a gloomy by-way which
was lined on either side by the massive walls and rear wings of huge,
dismal, commercial establishments. Not a soul was visible anywhere, it
was long and narrow and dirty, with deep ruts in the mud that lay in a
thick covering over the road. It was intercepted, some distance down,
by another street much worse to look at, and a little farther on, the
woeful panorama became still more awful and repulsive. A little
passage which seemed to have strayed away from all connection with
human decency or sympathy ran to the left. It was so very narrow that
though the surrounding buildings straggled up to only an ordinary
height, the daylight scarcely penetrated it. And indeed it is to be
wondered whether a bright sunlight would not but bring out more
clearly than ever the appalling features of the place. Could gold and
silver sunbeams hope to beautify the heaps of refuse and rubbish that
were piled up here and there at intervals against some staggering
fence? Could a flood of sunlight improve the dingy house-fronts that
looked drearily out upon this cheerless prospect, or lend a charm to
the hardened faces of those that peered through dirty window-panes, or
who stood idly in some rickety doorway?
The spectacle was indeed heart-stirring.


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