Oliver Twist
IS A VERY SHORT ONE, AND MAY APPEAR OF NO GREAT IMPORTANCE IN ITS PLACE, BUT IT SHOULD BE READ NOTWITHSTANDING, AS A SEQUEL TO THE LAST, AND A KEY TO ONE THAT WILL FOLLOW WHEN ITS TIME ARRIVES
“And so you are to be my this morning; eh?” said the doctor, as Harry Maylie joined him and Oliver at the breakfast-table. “Why, you are not in the same mind or two half-hours together!”
“You will tell me a different one of these days,” said Harry, without any reason.
“I I may have good to do so,” Mr. Losberne; “though I I don’t think I shall. But yesterday you had up your mind, in a great hurry, to here, and to your mother, like a son, to the sea-side. Before noon, you that you are going to do me the of me as as I go, on your road to London. And at night, you me, with great mystery, to start the ladies are stirring; the of which is, that Oliver here is to his when he ought to be the after of all kinds. Too bad, isn’t it, Oliver?”
“I should have been very sorry not to have been at home when you and Mr. Maylie away, sir,” Oliver.
“That’s a fellow,” said the doctor; “you shall come and see me when you return. But, to speak seriously, Harry; has any from the great produced this on your part to be gone?”
“The great nobs,” Harry, “under which designation, I presume, you my most uncle, have not with me at all, since I have been here; nor, at this time of the year, is it likely that anything would to necessary my among them.”
“Well,” said the doctor, “you are a fellow. But of they will you into at the election Christmas, and these and are no for political life. There’s something in that. Good is always desirable, the be for place, cup, or sweepstakes.”
Harry Maylie looked as if he have up this by one or two that would have the doctor not a little; but he himself with saying, “We shall see,” and the no farther. The post-chaise up to the door afterwards; and Giles in for the luggage, the good doctor out, to see it packed.
“Oliver,” said Harry Maylie, in a low voice, “let me speak a word with you.”
Oliver walked into the window-recess to which Mr. Maylie him; much at the mixture of and spirits, which his whole displayed.
“You can well now?” said Harry, his hand upon his arm.
“I so, sir,” Oliver.
“I shall not be at home again, for some time; I wish you would to me—say once a fort-night: every Monday: to the General Post Office in London. Will you?”
“Oh! certainly, sir; I shall be proud to do it,” Oliver, with the commission.
“I should like to know how—how my mother and Miss Maylie are,” said the man; “and you can up a by telling me what walks you take, and what you talk about, and she—they, I mean—seem happy and well. You me?”
“Oh! quite, sir, quite,” Oliver.
“I would you did not mention it to them,” said Harry, over his words; “because it might make my mother to to me oftener, and it is a trouble and worry to her. Let it be a you and me; and mind you tell me everything! I upon you.”
Oliver, and by a of his importance, promised to be and in his communications. Mr. Maylie took of him, with many of his and protection.
The doctor was in the chaise; Giles (who, it had been arranged, should be left behind) the door open in his hand; and the women-servants were in the garden, looking on. Harry one at the window, and jumped into the carriage.
“Drive on!” he cried, “hard, fast, full gallop! Nothing of will keep with me, to-day.”
“Halloa!” the doctor, the in a great hurry, and to the postillion; “something very of will keep with me. Do you hear?”
Jingling and clattering, till its noise inaudible, and its progress only to the eye, the vehicle its way along the road, almost in a cloud of dust: now disappearing, and now visible again, as objects, or the of the way, permitted. It was not until the cloud was no longer to be seen, that the dispersed.
And there was one looker-on, who with upon the spot where the had disappeared, long after it was many miles away; for, the white which had her from view when Harry his the window, sat Rose herself.
“He in high and happy,” she said, at length. “I for a time he might be otherwise. I was mistaken. I am very, very glad.”
Tears are of as well as grief; but those which Rose’s face, as she sat at the window, still in the same direction, to tell more of than of joy.
