The String of Pearls; or, The Barber of Fleet Street — page 72: what you’re looking at

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

A LN — 64 THE STRING OF PEARLS. _ me Ste eating cho wuld ecntodae: house of her old school friend, which was ——— one following morning she wo in the immediate vicinity, and hold a conversation with her. “«T shall hear something,” she said, “at least of a kindly and a consoli ng cha- | racter; for what Arebella may want in calm and steady judgment, she fully com- gensates for in actual feeling, and what is most of all, lL know I can trust her word implicitly, and that my secret will remain as safely locked in ler breast as if it were in my Own.” 3: It was something to come to a conclusion to ask advice, and she felt that some portion of her anxiety was lifted from her mind by the mere fact that she had made so firm a mental resolution, that neither danger nor difficulty should deter | her from seeking co know the fate of her lover. She retired to rest now with a ereater hope, and while she % courting repose, notwithstanding the chance of the discovered images that fancy may present to her in her slumbers, we will q take a glance at the parlour below, and see how far Mrs. Oakley 1s conveying | | out the pacific intention she had so ‘tacitly expressed, and how the supper is | ¢ oing forward, which, with not the best grace in the world, she is preparing for | oe husband, who for the first time in his life had began to assert his rights, and | for big Ben, the beef-eater, whom she as cordiaily disliked as 16 was possible for | | any woman to detest any man. Mrs. Oakley by no means preserved her taciturn | ) demeanour, for after a little she spoke, saying— | i “There’s nothing tasty in the house; suppose I run over the way to Wag: |! garee’s, and get some of those Epping sausages with the peculiar flavour.” | 1 “Ah, do,” said Mr. Oakley, “they are beautiful, Ben, I can assure you.” | si “Well, I don’t know,” said Ben the beef-eater, “sausages are all very well ‘ in their way, but you need such a plaguey lot of them; for if you only eat | | them one at a time, how soon will you get through a dozen or two.” “A dozen or two,” said Mrs. Oakley; “‘ why, there are ovly five to a pound.” “Then,” said Ben, making a mental calculation, ‘then, 1 think, maam, that | you ought not to get more than nine pounds of them, and that will be a matter of | forty-five mouthfuls for us.” | “Get nine pounds of them,” said Mr. Oakley, “if they be wanted; I know | Ben has an appetite.” i “Indeed,” said Ben, “but I have fell off lately, and don’t take to my wittals | as L used ; you can order, missus, if you please, a gallon of half-and-half as you | eo along. One must have a drain of drink of some sort; and mind you don’t be going to aay expense on my account, and getting anything but the little snack I. have mentioned, for ten to one I shall take supper when I get to the ‘Tower; | only human nature is weak, you know, missus, and requires something to be a continually a holding of it up.”’ ; “ Certainly,” said Mr. Oakley, “certainly, have what you like, Ben; just say _ the word before Mrs. Oakley goes out, is there anything else ?” : “No, no,” said Ben, ‘‘oh dear no, nothing to speak of; but if you should pass _ &@ shop where they sells fat bacon, about four or five pounds, cut into rashers, | you'll find, missus, will help down the blessed sausages.”’ : , “Gracious Providenee,” said Mrs. Oakley, ‘‘ who is to eook it ?” | ' Who is to cook if, ma’am? why the kitchen fire, I suppose ; but mind ye if | the man aint got any sausages, there’s a shop where they sells biled beefat the | corne’, and I shall be quite satisfied if you brings in about ten or twelve pounds of that. You can make if up into about half a dozen sandwiches.” | i; | “Go, my dear, go at once,” said Mr, Oakley, “and get Ben his supper. Iam | quite sure he wants it, and be as quick as you can.” | “ Ah,” said Ben, when Mrs. Oakley was gone, “I didn’t tell you how I was | sarved last week at Mrs. Harveys. You know they are so precious genteel there that they don’t speak above their blessed breaths for fear of wearing themse \ves out; and they sits down in a chair as if it were balanced only on one leg, and a Little more one way or other would upset them. ‘Then, if they sees a crumb a laying on the floor they rings the bell, and a poor half-starved devil of a servant comes and says, ‘ Did you ring, ma’am ? and then they says ‘ Yes, bring a dust- |, ee i i on a a ere we comicbooks.com