‘But won’t you take one look at him, first,
miss?’ asked Mr. Giles, with as much pride as
if Oliver were some bird of rare plumage, that he
had skilfully brought down. ’Not one little
peep, miss?’
‘Not now, for the world,’ replied the
young lady. ’Poor fellow! Oh! treat
him kindly, Giles for my sake!’
The old servant looked up at the speaker, as she turned
away, with a glance as proud and admiring as if she
had been his own child. Then, bending over Oliver,
he helped to carry him upstairs, with the care and
solicitude of a woman.
HAS AN INTRODUCTORY ACCOUNT OF THE INMATES OF THE
HOUSE, TO WHICH OLIVER RESORTED
In a handsome room: though its furniture had
rather the air of old-fashioned comfort, than of modern
elegance: there sat two ladies at a well-spread
breakfast-table. Mr. Giles, dressed with scrupulous
care in a full suit of black, was in attendance upon
them. He had taken his station some half-way
between the side-board and the breakfast-table; and,
with his body drawn up to its full height, his head
thrown back, and inclined the merest trifle on one
side, his left leg advanced, and his right hand thrust
into his waist-coat, while his left hung down by his
side, grasping a waiter, looked like one who laboured
under a very agreeable sense of his own merits and
importance.
Of the two ladies, one was well advanced in years;
but the high-backed oaken chair in which she sat,
was not more upright than she. Dressed with
the utmost nicety and precision, in a quaint mixture
of by-gone costume, with some slight concessions to
the prevailing taste, which rather served to point
the old style pleasantly than to impair its effect,
she sat, in a stately manner, with her hands folded
on the table before her. Her eyes (and age had
dimmed but little of their brightness) were attentively
upon her young companion.
The younger lady was in the lovely bloom and spring-time
of womanhood; at that age, when, if ever angels be
for God’s good purposes enthroned in mortal
forms, they may be, without impiety, supposed to abide
in such as hers.
She was not past seventeen. Cast in so slight
and exquisite a mould; so mild and gentle; so pure
and beautiful; that earth seemed not her element,
nor its rough creatures her fit companions.
The very intelligence that shone in her deep blue
eye, and was stamped upon her noble head, seemed scarcely
of her age, or of the world; and yet the changing
expression of sweetness and good humour, the thousand
lights that played about the face, and left no shadow
there; above all, the smile, the cheerful, happy smile,
were made for Home, and fireside peace and happiness.
She was busily engaged in the little offices of the
table. Chancing to raise her eyes as the elder
lady was regarding her, she playfully put back her
hair, which was simply braided on her forehead; and
threw into her beaming look, such an expression of
affection and artless loveliness, that blessed spirits
might have smiled to look upon her.
