The Gift of the Sailor: The String of Pearls & Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street — page 236: what you’re looking at

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

“Not quite as usual, my darling.” “That—that, gasped Johanna, can only be—be fancy.” “Of course not,” said Oakley. “Fancy, I think I said it was, or if I did not, I meant to say so, my love.” “Come,” said Arabella. “Yes—yes. Father—father. Good day.” She kissed his cheek; and then, before the old man could say another word, she rushed to the door. “Farewell!” said Arabella. “Good day, Mr. Oakley. I—I thank you, sir. Good day, sir.” “Dear, dear,” said the old man, “what is the matter with the girls? How odd they both seem to-day. What can be the cause of it? I never before saw them so strange in their manner. Ah! I have it. My wife has met them, I daresay, and has said some unkind things to them about hats or ribbons, or some harmless little piece of girlish pride. Well—well. All that will pass away. I’m glad I hit upon it, for—” At this moment old Oakley was astounded by the sudden entrance of Johanna, who, clasping him in her arms, cried in a voice, half choked with tears— “Good-bye, father—good-bye. God help me!” Without, then, waiting for a word from the spectacle-maker, she again rushed from the shop, and joining Arabella a few doors off, they both hurried to the house of the latter. Old Oakley tottered back until he came to a seat, upon which he sank, with an air of abstraction and confusion, that threatened to last him for some time; and in that, for the present, we must leave him, while we look narrowly at the conduct of the two young creatures, who have, in the pride of their virtue and their nobleness of purpose, presumed to set up their innocence against the deep craft of such a man as Sweeney Todd. Well might Johanna say “God help me!” “Tt is done!” said Johanna, as she clutched her friend by the arm “It is done now. The worst is over.” “Oh, Johanna—Johanna—” “Well, Arabella, why do you pause? What would you say? I scarcely know, and yet I feel that it ought to be something that I have promised you. I would not say.” “Let your lips be sealed, then, dear friend; and be assured that now nothing but the visible interposition of God shall turn me from my purpose. I am calm and resolved.” These words, few as they were, were too significant, and spoken with too evident sincerity to permit a doubt of their deep intensity and truth, and from that moment Arabella Wilmot looked upon the scheme of Johanna going in disguise to Todd’s as quite settled so far as regarded the attempt. It was the result now only that had to be looked to. “T will say no more, Johanna, except as regards detail. In that I may offer you advice.” “Oh, yes—yes, Arabella. Thankfully received advice, as well you know. What is it you would say?” “That you ought to wait until the morning.” “And so perhaps lose precious hours. Oh, no—no. Do not ask me now to submit to any delays, Arabella.” “But if there be reason, Johanna?” “Well, the reason, then—the reason?” “T think that, if possible, it would be well to avoid the necessity of remaining a night at Todd’s; and so if you go in the morning, you see, Johanna, you may have an opportunity before nightfall of making all the discoveries you wish, or of satisfying yourself that they are not to be made at all.” “Tt might be so, and yet—yet I almost think night will be the best time of all.” “But by waiting until to-morrow morning, Johanna, you will have both day and night.” “Yes, yes. I wish I knew what would be the best, Arabella. My feelings are wound up to this enterprise, and I am altogether in such a frightful state of excitement concerning it, that—that I know not how I should be able to support myself under the delay of the remainder of to-day and the whole of the ensuing night.” “In the night you will have repose, and to-morrow morning, with much more calmness and effect, you will be able to start upon your errand. Believe me, Johanna, I don’t counsel this delay with any hope, or wish, or expectation, that it will turn you from your purpose, but simply because I think it will the better ensure its successful termination.” “Successful! What will you call successful, Arabella?” “Your coming back to me uninjured, Johanna.” “Ah, that speaks your love for me, while I—I love him for whose sake I am about to undergo so much, sufficiently to feel that were I sure he was no more, my own death at the hands of Sweeney Todd would be success.” “Johanna—Johanna, don’t speak in such a strain. Have you no thought for me? have you no thought for your poor father, to whom, as you well know, you are the dearest tie that he has in the world? Oh, Johanna, do not be so selfish.” “Selfish?” “Yes, it is selfish, when you know what others must suffer because they love you, to speak as though it were a thing to be desired that you should die by violence.” “Arabella, can you forgive me? can you make sufficient allowances for this poor distracted heart, to forgive its ravings?” “T can—I do, Johanna, and in the words of your father, I am ever ready to say ‘God bless you!’ You will not go till tomorrow?” After the pause of a few moments, Johanna said faintly— “I will not—I will not.” “Oh that is much. Then at least for another night we shall enjoy our old sweet companionship.” They by this time had reached the home of Arabella, and as it was an understood thing that Johanna was not expected home, the two young girls retired to converse in unrestrained freedom upon all their hopes and fears. CONNIE MOO @ S CO)