The String of Pearls; or, The Barber of Fleet Street — page 372: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

‘FHE STRING OF PEARLS. Sees ‘‘ How is it that you know me?” “My father is an old friend of Sir Richard’s, and he has told us al] your story. How truly delighted 1 am to see you. And so you have escaped from that odious Todd, aad-——” “Immediate refreshment, my dear, and all the attention you can cram into a very short space of time to Miss. Oakley, my dear,” said Mr. Orton, just putt- ing his head so far into the roomas to make himself plainly and distinctly heard. ‘* Yes, father, yes.” ‘* How kind you all are,” said Johanna. “‘No—no—at least we wish to be, but what I mean is that we are no kinder than we ought to be, My father is so good, I have no mother.” “And I, too, am motherless.”’ ** Yes, I—I heard that Mrs. Oakley——” ‘* Lived, you would say; and yet am I motherless.”’ Johanna burst into tears. The sense of desolation that came over the young girl’s heart whenever she thought how little of a mother the fanatical personage who owned that title was to her, generally overcame all her firmness, as upon the present occasion. Ann flung her arms around Johanna, and the two young creatures wept in unison. We will Jeave them to their sacred intercourse. *& ¥ * Ss # * * * Sir Richard Blunt remained in conversation with Mr. Orton for about a quarter of an hour, and then both Johanna and Ann came down stairs. J ohanna looked calmer and happier. Ann had said some kind things to her—such as none but a young girl can say to a young girl. “Tam ready,’ said Johanna. ‘“‘Ready for what?” enquired Sir Richard Blunt, with a look of earnest affection in the face of the beautiful heroine—for if ever there were a heroine, we really think Johanna Oakley was one, and we are quite sure that you agree with us. | “For my mission,” said Johanna. “I am ready.” _“ And can you really find courage to go again to that—that——~”’ Sir Richard could not find a fitting name for Todd’s home, but Johanna under- stood him, and she replied gently — “I may not pause now. It is my duty.” “Your duty ?”’ “ Yes, Gh, Mark—Mark, I cannot restore you from the dead, but in the sacred cause of justice [ may bring your murderer to the light of day. It is my duty to do so much for your memory.” Ann turned aside to hideher tears. Mr. Orton, too, was much affected, and there was an unwonted jar, as though some false note had had been struck in | voice of Sir Richard Blunt as he spoke, saying— | ‘* Miss Oakley, I will not—I cannot deny that by your going back to Todd’s house, you may materially assist in the cause of justice. But yet 1 advise you not to do so.” ** I know you are all careful of my safety, while I—~—” “Ah, Johanna,” said Ann, ‘ you do not know yet that you are so desolate as | to wish to die.” “‘ Yes, yes—I am desolate.” ** And so,” added Sir Richard, “ because you loved one who has been, accord- ing to your judgment upon the circumstances that have come to your knowledge, torn from you by death, you will admit no other ties which could bind you to the world. Is that right: Is it like you?” The tones of voice in which these words were uttered, as well as the senti- ment embodied in them, sunk deeply into Johanna’s heart, Clasping her hands together, she cried— “Oh, no, no! Dono think me so inhuman. Do not think me so very ungrateful,’ eee ey ” ; . = = : ~ ee St oe a as x: zy pe x re nen — eS comicbooks.com