The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 273: what you’re looking at

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

256 REYNOLDS’ WORKS joyous to contemplate on the part of the young. Then, having finished dressing him, Henrietta took a comb and arranged his beautiful chestnut hair in a way to set off his sweet but delicate countenance to the utmost advantage. Scarcely had all this been done, and while Henrietta and Mrs. Leyden were still admiring little Charley’s appear- ance in his new clothes, footsteps were heard ascending the stairs, and a man’s voice saying, ‘‘ There, my good woman, you need not come any farther; I shall find my way. The door at the top, you say, the one facing the stairs? There, you need not follow me, I tell you. Oh, I suppose you want something for your trouble? Stop, here’s a shilling, and now pray let me find my way alone. Indeed, I must insist upon it.” These words were addressed to the landlady of the house, an officious, obtrusive, inquisitive kind of person, who, seeing that the visitor was evidently a man of substance, had endeavoured to push her way along with him in order to ascertain what he could possibly want with the Leydens. But he had got rid of her as much by his peremptory manner as by the donation of the shilling, and almost immediately afterward Mrs. Leyden and her children heard his footsteps halt at their door, at which he immediately knocked. Henrietta opened it, and found herself in the presence of an old gentleman with a brown scratch-wig, a red face, a large double chin, and a short stout figure. ‘“ Your name is Henrietta Leyden, I suppose?” said the gentleman. ‘Then, catching sight of the invalid woman in bed, he observed, in a blunt offhand manner, “‘ Don’t mind me; I come with no hostile intent, it may be otherwise,”’ and he unceremoniously walked into the room. Henrietta shut the door, and at once placed a seat for the visitor’s accommodation, for 1+ struck her that this was an emissary from the kind-hearted Angela Vivaldi. Mrs. Leyden, who, the moment the knock sounded at the door, had settled herself in bed so as to be prepared for the presence of any visitor, entertained the same idea, and little Charley stood gazing upon the gentleman with childish wonder as to what he wanted. “You expected a call from some one this morning? ”’ said that individual, addressing himself to Henrietta. “I know all that took place last night between you and Signora Gomichbooks m