They sat, listening, and afraid to speak, for hours.
The untasted meal was removed, with looks which showed
that their thoughts were elsewhere, they watched the
sun as he sank lower and lower, and, at length, cast
over sky and earth those brilliant hues which herald
his departure. Their quick ears caught the sound
of an approaching footstep. They both involuntarily
darted to the door, as Mr. Losberne entered.
‘What of Rose?’ cried the old lady.
’Tell me at once! I can bear it; anything
but suspense! Oh, tell me! in the name of Heaven!’
‘You must compose yourself,’ said the
doctor supporting her. ’Be calm, my dear
ma’am, pray.’
’Let me go, in God’s name! My dear
child! She is dead! She is dying!’
‘No!’ cried the doctor, passionately.
’As He is good and merciful, she will live
to bless us all, for years to come.’
The lady fell upon her knees, and tried to fold her
hands together; but the energy which had supported
her so long, fled up to Heaven with her first thanksgiving;
and she sank into the friendly arms which were extended
to receive her.
CONTAINS SOME INTRODUCTORY PARTICULARS RELATIVE TO
A YOUNG GENTLEMAN WHO NOW ARRIVES UPON THE SCENE;
AND A NEW ADVENTURE WHICH HAPPENED TO OLIVER
It was almost too much happiness to bear. Oliver
felt stunned and stupefied by the unexpected intelligence;
he could not weep, or speak, or rest. He had
scarcely the power of understanding anything that
had passed, until, after a long ramble in the quiet
evening air, a burst of tears came to his relief, and
he seemed to awaken, all at once, to a full sense
of the joyful change that had occurred, and the almost
insupportable load of anguish which had been taken
from his breast.
The night was fast closing in, when he returned homeward:
laden with flowers which he had culled, with peculiar
care, for the adornment of the sick chamber.
As he walked briskly along the road, he heard behind
him, the noise of some vehicle, approaching at a furious
pace. Looking round, he saw that it was a post-chaise,
driven at great speed; and as the horses were galloping,
and the road was narrow, he stood leaning against a
gate until it should have passed him.
As it dashed on, Oliver caught a glimpse of a man
in a white nightcap, whose face seemed familiar to
him, although his view was so brief that he could
not identify the person. In another second or
two, the nightcap was thrust out of the chaise-window,
and a stentorian voice bellowed to the driver to stop:
which he did, as soon as he could pull up his horses.
Then, the nightcap once again appeared: and
the same voice called Oliver by his name.
‘Here!’ cried the voice. ’Oliver,
what’s the news? Miss Rose! Master
O-li-ver!’
‘Is is you, Giles?’ cried Oliver, running
up to the chaise-door.
