CHAPTER XXII

Mr. Grimwigs Peculiar Behaviour

The Maylies had come to London to spend three days only, before departing for some weeks to a distant part of the coast.

Rose was in a difficult situation. She was anxious to penetrate the mystery in which Oliver's history was enveloped, and yet at the same time she could not break her promise of secrecy to the miserable woman who had confided in her.

She was in this restless condition the morning after Nancy's mysterious visit when Oliver came into the room in breathless haste and excitement. On enquiring the cause of his agitation Oliver told her that he had seen the gentleman who had been so good to him—Mr. Brownlow—getting out of a coach. The boy was shedding tears of delight as he told the story; he had found out his address.

"Look here," said Oliver, opening a scrap of paper, "here it is; here's where he lives, I'm going there directly! Oh, dear me, dear me! What shall I do when I see him, again?"

Rose read the address, which was in the Strand, and very soon determined upon making use of that discovery.

"Quick!" she said. "Tell them to fetch a carriage, and be ready to go with me. I will take you there directly; I will only tell my aunt that we are going out for an hour, and be ready as soon as you are."

In less than five minutes they were on their way to Mr. Brownlow's. When they arrived there, Rose left Oliver in the coach, under pretence of preparing the old gentleman to receive him; and sending up her card by the servant, requested to see Mr. Brownlow on very urgent business. The servant soon returned to beg that she would walk upstairs; she followed him into an upper room and was presented to Mr. Brownlow, who was sitting with his old friend, Mr. Grimwig.

Rose told Mr. Brownlow that he had once shown great kindness to a young boy who was a dear friend of hers and added that she was sure he would take an interest in hearing of him again.

"Indeed!" said Mr. Brownlow.

"Oliver Twist, you knew him as," replied Rose.

The words no sooner escaped her lips than Mr. Grimwig, who had been reading a large book that lay on the table, upset it with a great crash, and falling back in his chair gave an exclamation of great wonder. Mr. Brownlow was no less surprised, although his astonishment was not expressed in the same odd manner. He drew his chair near to Miss Maylie's and said:

"Do me the favour, my dear young lady, to leave entirely out of the question that kindness of which you speak; and if you can produce any evidence which will alter the unfavourable opinion I once had of that poor child, in Heaven's name let me have it."

"A bad one! I'll eat my head if he is not a bad one," growled Mr. Grimwig.

"He is a child of a noble nature and a warm heart," said Rose, colouring; "and he has feelings which would do honour to many six times his age."

"I'm only sixty-one," said Mr. Grimwig, "and as Oliver is twelve years old at least I don't see the sense of your remark."

"Do not mind what he says, Miss Maylie," said Mr. Brownlow; "he does not mean what he says."

"Yes, he does," growled Mr. Grimwig.

"No, he does not," said Mr. Brownlow, his anger rising as he spoke.

"He'll eat his head if he doesn't," growled Mr. Grimwig.

"He would deserve to have it knocked off, if he does," said Mr. Brownlow.

"And he'd like to see any man offer to do it," replied Mr. Grimwig, knocking his stick upon the floor.

Having gone thus far in their quarrel, the two gentlemen took snuff and afterwards shook hands, according to their custom.

"Now, Miss Maylie, to return to the subject in which you are so much interested. Let me know what information you have of this child."

Rose at once told him all that had happened to Oliver since he left Mr. Brownlow's house, adding that Oliver's only sorrow, for some months past, had been that he could not meet with his former benefactor and friend.

"Thank God!" said the old gentleman. "This is great happiness to me, great happiness. But you haven't told me where he is now, Miss Maylie. Why haven't you brought him with you?"

"He is waiting in a coach at the door," replied Rose.

"At this door!" cried the old gentleman, hurrying out of the room and down the stairs without another word.

When he had gone Mr. Grimwig rose from his chair and limped as fast as he could up and down the room at least a dozen times, and then, stopping suddenly before Rose, kissed her without the slightest warning.

"Hush!" he said, as the young lady rose in some alarm at this unusual behaviour. "Don't be afraid. I'm old enough to be your grandfather. You're a sweet girl. I like you. Here they are!"

Mr. Brownlow returned, accompanied by Oliver, whom Mr. Grimwig received very kindly.

"There is somebody else who should not be forgotten," said Mr. Brownlow, ringing the bell. "Send Mrs. Bedwin here, if you please."

The old housekeeper came quickly and stood at the door, awaiting orders.

"Why, you get blinder every day, Bedwin," said Mr. Brownlow. "Put on your glasses and see if you can't find out what you were wanted for, will you?"

The old lady began to search in her pockets for her glasses. But Oliver could wait no more: he sprang into her arms.

"God be good to me!" cried the old nurse, embracing him; "it is my innocent boy!"

"My dear old nurse!" cried Oliver.

"He would come back—I knew he would," said the old woman, holding him in her arms. "How well he looks, and how like a gentleman's son he is dressed again! Where have you been, this long, long while? Ah! the same sweet face, but not so pale; the same soft eye, but not so sad."

Leaving her with Oliver, Mr. Brownlow led the way into another room; and there heard from Rose a full account of her meeting with Nancy, and readily promised to consider what should be done.

Then Rose and Oliver returned home.