Chapter 35 Chapter Thirty-Four

(Details of a young gentleman only now appearing, and another of Oliver's adventures.) The joy was almost unbearable.Oliver was momentarily dumbfounded at this unexpected news.He couldn't cry, couldn't speak, and couldn't sit or lie.He lingered in the quiet atmosphere of dusk for a long time, and cried a lot, finally regained a little understanding, and then he seemed to wake up suddenly, a happy change has taken place, and the unbearable anxiety in his chest has also been resolved . The night quickly surrounded him, and he walked home holding a large bouquet of flowers, which he carefully picked to decorate the ward.He was walking quickly along the road when he suddenly heard the sound of a carriage galloping behind him.He turned his head and saw a stagecoach coming at a high speed. Because the horses were running fast and the road was narrow, he stopped by a gate and let the carriage pass.

The car sped past, and Oliver saw a man in the car wearing a white nightcap, who seemed somewhat familiar, but his glance was too short to see who it was.In a second or two the nightcap stuck out from the window of the coach, and a loud voice ordered the coachman to stop.The coachman reined in his horse and the cart stopped.Then Nightcap stuck out again, and the loud voice called Oliver's name. "Here!" cried the voice. "Oliver, what's the news? What's the matter with Miss Ruth? Master O--L-F!" "Is that you, Kyles?" cried Oliver, running for the door.

Kaiers stuck out his nightcap-wearing head again as a gesture of reply, but was suddenly pulled back by a young gentleman sitting in the other corner of the carriage, who urgently asked if there was any news there. "Tell me!" cried the gentleman. "Is it better or worse?" "Better--much better!" replied Oliver hastily. "Thank God!" exclaimed the young gentleman, "are you sure?" "No problem, sir," replied Oliver. "It was not the same a few hours ago, Mr. Rosbery says, and the danger is all over." The gentleman said no more, opened the door of the car, jumped out, grabbed Oliver by the shoulders, and drew him aside.

"You're absolutely sure? My boy, nothing will go wrong again, are you?" asked the young gentleman in a trembling voice, "don't lie to me and make me happy." "I won't lie to you, sir," replied Oliver; "indeed, you will take my word for it. Mr. Rosbery says she will live for many, many years, and be a good to us all." Oliver thought of the scene which had brought so much happiness to all, and tears welled up in his eyes.The young gentleman turned his face away, and remained silent for some time.Oliver believed he heard him choke more than once, but dared not disturb him by saying anything else--he could not guess the gentleman's mood--and stood aside, pretending to be doing his best. The look of the bouquet in it.

All this time Mr. Giles, in his white nightcap, sat on the step of the carriage, with his elbows on his knees, and kept wiping his eyes with a blue and white cloth handkerchief.The honest man was not feigning emotion, as was evident from his red, swollen eyes, which Kyles looked at when the young gentleman turned to call him. . "I think you'd better go straight to my mother by car, Giles," said he; "I'd rather walk slowly, and I'd buy a little time before I see her. Just tell me almost there." "I beg your pardon, Mr. Harry," said Giles, wiping the tears from his face with a handkerchief, "but I would be most obliged if you would send the postman with word. Appropriate, sir, if they really see it, I will lose face in the future."

"Well," replied Harry Maylie, smiling, "do as you please. If it's better for you, let him go with the luggage, and you follow us. But first you must Take off the nightcap and put on another suitable one, or we'll be thought mad." Only then did Mr. Giles realize that his appearance was unseemly, and he tore off his nightcap, stuffed it into his pocket, and took out a stately and plain bowler hat from the car and put it on.After packing up, the postman continued to drive, with Giles, Mr. Maylie and Oliver following slowly. They strolled on, Oliver eyeing the newcomer now and then with keen interest and curiosity.He appeared to be about twenty-five years of age, of medium build, with a cheerful, handsome face and easy demeanor.Despite the age gap, he and the old lady looked alike, and Oliver had no trouble guessing their relationship even if he hadn't mentioned the old lady as his mother.

When the villa arrived, Mrs. Maylie was anxiously waiting for her son.When the mother and son met, both parties were very excited. "Mother," said the young man in a low voice, "why don't you write to me?" "I did," replied Mrs. Maylie, "but after much deliberation, I decided to take the letter back and hear Mr. Rosbery's opinion." "But why," said the young man. "Why risk such a thing? In case Ruth—I can't say that word—would you have forgiven yourself if this illness had been otherwise? Would I ever have been happy in this life? ?”

"If that happens, Harry," said Mrs. Maylie, "I'm afraid your happiness will be ruined entirely, and it won't make any difference if you come back sooner or later." "If it does, mother, what's the wonder?" answered the young man, "oh, why should I say just in case?—it's—it's—you know how it is, Mom—you should understand." "I understand that she deserves the best and purest love in a man's heart," said Mrs. Maylie, "and I understand that the devotion and love in her nature require more than the ordinary Reciprocation, but need someone who loves deeply and will never change his heart. If I don't feel this when I do something that I think must be done, I also know that the person she loves only needs attitude A little change would break her heart, and I wouldn't find my mission so difficult, or I wouldn't have so many internal conflicts."

"It's not fair, Mum," said Harry, "you still treat me like a child, completely ignorant of my own thoughts and the impulses of my soul?" "It seems to me, my dear son," replied Mrs. Maylie, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder, "that there are many noble impulses in young men which are often short-lived, and some of which, once satisfied, It will become more short-lived and fleeting. In short, I believe," said the old lady, staring at her son's face intently, "if a man with enthusiasm and great ambition marries a wife with a tainted name Even if this stain is not due to her fault, it will attract a group of cruel and dirty villains, and it will also affect the children-no matter how much a husband has achieved in the world, he will be slandered as much as he is. Make it the object of ridicule—the day comes when a husband, however generous and good-natured he may be, will regret having made the marriage. It will be equally painful for a wife to know that her husband has regretted it.”

"Mother," said the young man, unable to restrain himself, "anyone who does this is a self-absorbed beast, and not worthy of the name of a man, nor of the woman you describe." "You think so now, Harry," said the mother. "Always," said the young man, "what I have suffered mentally for the past two days has compelled me to admit to you openly that I have such a feeling, which you know perfectly well, did not arise yesterday. , nor did I make it rashly. My heart belongs to Ruth, what a sweet and tender girl. I am as firm as any man whose heart is devoted to another. My thoughts, my aspirations, and my hopes in life are inseparable from hers. Open. If you oppose me in this great matter, you take my peace and happiness in your hands and throw them away. Mother, think more of this, think more of me, and don't take this happiness for granted. It's worthless, and you don't seem to think much about it."

"Harry," said Mrs. Maylie, "it is because I think so much of my warm and sensitive hearts that I don't want to hurt them. But we've been talking too much about the matter at the moment, so let's call it a day." .” "Well, it's up to Ruth to decide," Harry interjected, "You won't impose your prejudices on others, and you won't even hesitate to create obstacles for me?" "I won't," replied Mrs. Maylie, "but I want you to consider—" "I've thought about it." The reply was already quite impatient. "I've been thinking about it for years, Mom. I've been thinking about it since I was able to think seriously. My feelings never change, always will be. Why should I have to suffer protracted pain once I say it, and what good is that pain? No, Ruth must hear what I have to say before I leave this place." "She will," replied Mrs. Maylie. "Mother, your manner almost suggests that she will take what I have to say with a cold attitude," said the young man. "Not cold," replied the old lady, "far from it." "So what?" the young man said bluntly, "Has she never had another love?" "No, not at all," replied the mother, "perhaps I was mistaken, and you have taken a firm hold of her feelings. What I am going to say," the son was about to speak, when the old lady entered "That's exactly it. Before you risk everything on this chance, before you fly to the pinnacle of hope, my dear boy, think more about Ruth's Come to think of it, she has always been loyal to us out of a noble heart and an unreserved spirit of self-sacrifice. No matter the big or small things, her character is characterized by self-sacrifice. Much, how does that affect her decision." "What do you mean?" "I leave that question to you," replied Mrs. Maylie. "I must go back to her. God bless you." "Can I see you again tonight?" said the young man eagerly. "Not long," replied the old lady, "while I leave Ruth." "Are you going to tell her I'm here?" said Harry. "That goes without saying," replied Mrs. Maylie. "Tell her how anxious I am, how much I've suffered, and how much I want to see her. You won't refuse, mother?" "Yes," said the old lady, "I will tell her everything." She shook her son's hand lovingly, and hurried out of the room. While this hasty conversation was going on, Mr. Rosebery and Oliver remained in the other corner of the room.Mr. Rosbery now held out his hand to Harry Maylie, and exchanged hearty greetings.The doctor then answered a host of questions from the young friend, and gave a detailed account of the patient's condition, which was as hopeful as Oliver's statement, and very comforting.Mr. Giles pretended to be busy packing his luggage, but he didn't miss a single word the doctor said. "Have you hit anything in particular lately, Kyles?" asked the doctor when he had finished speaking. "Nothing in particular, sir." Mr. Giles blushed up to his ears. "Didn't catch a thief or anything, or recognize any of the robbers?" said the doctor. "No, sir," replied Mr. Giles, very solemnly. "Oh," said the doctor, "that's a pity, because you do a very admirable thing. How is Brittles, please?" "That boy is very well, sir," said Mr. Giles, resuming his usual benefactor, "and he wants me to pay you his respects, sir." "Well then," said the doctor, "seeing you here reminded me, Mr. Giles, just the day before I was called hastily, and at the request of your kind mistress, I did A little errand that will do you good. Come over here, will you?" Mr. Giles walked over there in a very solemn and slightly surprised corner, and had the honor of having a short, low-pitched conversation with the doctor.At the end of the conversation, he bowed frequently and stepped back with unusually solemn steps.The subject of this intimate conversation was not revealed in the drawing-room, but was soon communicated to the kitchen, for Mr. Giles went straight to it, ordered a glass of ale, and declared with impressive dignity: On account of his heroic conduct in this attempted burglary, the mistress was so pleased that she deposited in the local savings-bank a sum totaling twenty-five pounds, for his personal use at interest.Upon hearing this, the two maids raised their hands and rolled their eyes together, guessing that Mr. Kyles didn't know what to look like.Mr. Giles tore out the hem of his shirt, and repeated, "No, no," and promised to tell him if they noticed his haughtiness among his men, and he would thank them.Next, he talked all over the world, just to illustrate his open-mindedness. This high-level talk was also praised and appreciated, and it was considered to be original and profound. so. Upstairs, the rest of the evening passed amid laughter and laughter.The doctor was in high spirits, and Harry Maylie seemed at first to be a little tired, or preoccupied, but at any rate he could not stand the good temper of the venerable Mr. Rosbery.The doctor talked and laughed happily, made witty remarks, recalled some past events in his career, and told a lot of small jokes, showing his humor to the fullest.Oliver thought these things could not be more ridiculous, and laughed hard.This evidently pleased the Doctor, who laughed heartily himself, and Harry, by the sympathy of it, almost laughed heartily.Their meeting couldn't have been more fun here and now.It was late at night before they went to rest, with a sense of relief and gratitude, which they really needed after the doubt and suspense they had just endured. Oliver awoke the next morning in a better mood, and began his morning routine with a sense of hope and joy which he had not experienced for many days.The cage was hung out again, so that the birds could sing in the old place.He tried his best to gather the most fragrant wild flowers again, hoping to exchange the beauty of flowers for Ruth's joy.For some days the melancholy which had seemed to have taken possession of the anxious child's melancholy eyes, which cast a cloud over whatever good things were seen, had vanished as if by magic.The dewdrops on the green leaves shone brighter, and the breeze rustled through the green leaves with a more beautiful music.Even the sky itself seemed bluer and brighter.This is the influence of our own state of mind, which can even affect the shape of external things.It is not unreasonable for men to cry out, looking at creation and their fellow-men, that everything is so dark and depressing, but this somber color is only the reflection of their own prejudiced eyes and hearts.True color is wonderful, what is needed is a clearer eye. It will be remarked, and Oliver was by no means unaware at the time, that his early morning excursions were no longer his own business.After meeting Oliver on the first morning and returning home full of rewards, Harry Mayley suddenly developed a keen interest in flowers, and showed a high appreciation for the art of flower arrangement, leaving his little friend far behind. .However, although Oliver was a little inferior in this respect, he knew where to find the best flowers.Morning after morning they scoured the district together and brought home the loveliest flowers.The windows of Miss Ruth's bedroom were open now, and she liked the feeling of the mellow summer air pouring into the room, and the fresh air to help her recover.However, behind the latticed window, every morning, there was a very small bouquet of flowers, carefully trimmed and still dripping with dew.Oliver could not help noticing that although the water in the little vase was changed regularly, the withered flowers were never thrown away.He also accidentally discovered that every morning, the doctor would go out for a walk, and as soon as he walked into the garden, he would definitely cast his gaze at that special corner and nod meaningfully.Amidst these observations, time flew by, and Ruth's condition improved rapidly. Although the Mademoiselle was not quite out of the room, she did not go out in the evenings, except for occasional walks in the neighborhood with Mrs. Maylie.Oliver did not find it difficult.He redoubled his efforts, asked the white-haired old gentleman for advice, and worked hard by himself, and the speed of progress surprised even himself.Just when he was immersed in his studies, something unexpected happened, which caused him great panic and annoyance. He usually reads in a small room on the ground floor behind the villa.This is a standard villa room, outside the lattice window is covered with jasmine and honeysuckle, all the way to the top of the window, filled with the astonishing fragrance of flowers.From the window there was a garden, with a wicket leading into a small paddock.Beyond that are lush meadows and woods.There are no other houses in that area, and it can be seen very far from there. On a pleasant evening, when the dusk just began to fall on the earth, Oliver sat by the window, concentrating on his reading.He has been looking at it for a while.The weather was extremely hot, and he put in a lot of effort, so he gradually fell asleep bit by bit.No matter who the authors of these books were, it is by no means in discredit to say so. At certain times a kind of doze sneaks up on us and confines our bodies, but it does not detach our minds from the things around us, and our minds can still run as they please.So if an overwhelming sense of sluggishness, a fatigue of energy, a state of total loss of control over our consciousness or ability to act, can be called sleep, it is sleep.At this time, we can still feel everything happening around us. If we start dreaming at such a moment, the words we actually speak, or the sounds that really existed at that time, will be integrated into our hallucinations very quickly, reality and imagination are wonderful. It is almost impossible to tell the two apart after the fact.And that's not even the most startling phenomenon in such a situation.Undoubtedly, our sense of touch and sight tends to fail for a while, but the silent presence of some external things can affect, even actually affect our consciousness in sleep, affect the various things that pass before us. Hallucinations; things that may not yet be with us when we close our eyes, and that we are not aware of when we are awake. Oliver knew very clearly that he was sitting in the small room with the books on the table in front of him, and outside the window, the fragrant breath was constantly coming from the spreading grass and trees.He fell asleep.Suddenly, the scenery changed and the air was suffocating.In his imagination, he came to the old Jew's house again in horror.The scary old man was still sitting in the corner he was used to, pointing at himself, and whispering to another person sitting beside him with his face sideways. "Hush, my dear." He seemed to hear the old Jew saying, "That's him, unmistakable. Come on." "It's him." The other person seems to be answering, "Do you think I will still recognize him? Even if a group of brats become exactly like him, and he stands in the middle, I will still have a way to recognize him. You just dig the ground Fifty feet, bury him, and if you'd lead me over his grave, I'd be sure to guess that he was buried there, even if there wasn't even a mark on it." Oliver awoke with a start, and jumped to his feet as the man spoke these words with such vengeance. OMG!What made the blood pour into his heart suddenly, making him speechless and unable to move?There--there--at the window--right before him--the old Jew stood, peering into the room, and met Oliver's eyes, so close that Oliver was looking You can almost touch him before you flinch back.Beside him, a murderous face, pale with anger or fear, or both, was the very man who had accosted Oliver in the inn-yard. This scene just passed before his eyes, fleeting, and disappeared in a flash.They had known Oliver, however, and Oliver had known them, and their features were imprinted upon his memory, as if inscribed on stone, and had been inscribed since his birth. erected in front of him.For a moment he stood there dumbfounded, then, crying out for help, he jumped out of the window into the garden.