Hello.
Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,
Your go-to romantic podcast that guarantees you a calm and entertaining transition into a great night's sleep.
Come with me as we immerse ourselves in a romantic journey to a time long since forgotten.
But before we begin,
Let's take a moment to focus on where we are now.
Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.
Now close your eyes and feel yourself sink deeper into the support beneath you.
It is time to relax and fully let go.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Happy listening.
Chapter 14 continued,
Comprising further particulars of Oliver's stay at Mr Brownlow's with a remarkable prediction which one Mr Grimwig uttered concerning him when he went out on an errand.
Oliver,
Soon recovering from the fainting fit into which Mr Brownlow's abrupt exclamation had thrown him,
The subject of the picture was carefully avoided both by the old gentleman and Mrs Bedwin in the conversation that ensued.
It indeed bore no reference to Oliver's history or prospects but was confined to such topics as might amuse without exciting him.
He was still too weak to get up to breakfast,
But when he came down into the housekeeper's room next day his first act was to cast an eager glance at the wall in the hope of again looking on the face of the beautiful lady.
His expectations were disappointed however for the picture had been removed.
Ah,
Said the housekeeper watching in the direction of Oliver's eyes,
It is gone you see.
I see it is ma'am,
Replied Oliver.
Why have they taken it away?
It's been taken down child because Mr Brownlow said that as it seemed to worry you perhaps it might prevent you getting well you know,
Rejoined the old lady.
Oh no indeed,
It didn't worry me ma'am,
Said Oliver.
I like to see it,
I quite loved it.
Well,
Well,
Said the old lady good-humouredly.
You get well as fast as ever you can dear and it shall be hung up again.
There,
I promise you that.
Now let us talk about something else.
This was all the information Oliver could obtain about the picture at that time.
As the old lady had been so kind to him in his illness he endeavoured to think no more of the subject just then.
So he listened attentively to a great many stories she told him about an amiable and handsome daughter of hers who was married to an amiable and handsome man and lived in the country and about a son who was clerk to a merchant in the West Indies and who was also such a good man and wrote such dutiful letters home four times a year that it brought the tears into her eyes to talk about them.
When the old lady had expatiated a long time on the excellences of her children and the merits of her kind good husband beside who had been dead and gone poor dear soul just six and twenty years it was time to have tea.
After tea she began to teach Oliver cribbage which he learned as quickly as she could teach him and at which game they played with great interest and gravity until it was time for the invalid to have some warm wine and water with a slice of dry toast and then go cosily to bed.
Those were happy days they were happy days those of Oliver's recovery everything was so quiet and neat and orderly everybody so kind and gentle that after the noise and turbulence in the midst of which he'd always lived it seemed like heaven itself.
He was no sooner strong enough to put his clothes on properly than Mr Brownlow caused a complete new suit and a new cap and a new pair of shoes to be provided for him.
As Oliver was told he might do what he liked with the old clothes he gave them to a servant who'd been very kind to him and asked her to sell them to a Jew and keep the money for himself.
This she very readily did and as Oliver looked out of the parlor window and saw the Jew roll them up in his bag and walk away he felt quite delighted to think they were safely gone and that there was no possible danger of his ever being able to wear them again.
They were sad rags to tell the truth and Oliver had never had a new suit before.
One evening about a week after the affair of the picture as he was sitting down talking to Mrs Bedwin there came a message down from Mr Brownlow that if Oliver Twist felt pretty well he should like to see him in his study and talk to him a little while.
Bless him and save us wash your hands and let me part your hair for you nicely child said Mrs Bedwin.
Dear heart alive if we'd have known he would have asked for you we would have put a clean collar on and made you as smart as a sixpence.
Oliver did as the old lady bade him and although she lamented grievously meanwhile there was not even time to crimp the little frill that bordered his shirt collar.
He looked so delicate and handsome despite that important personal advantage that she went so far as to say looking at him with great complacency from head to foot that she really didn't think it would have been possible on the longest notice to have made much difference in him for the better.
Thus encouraged Oliver tapped at the study door.
On Mrs Brownlow calling to him to come in he found himself in a little back room quite full of books with a window looking into some pleasant little gardens.
There was a table drawn up before the window at which Mr Brownlow was seated reading.
When he saw Oliver he pushed the book back away from him and told him to come near the table and sit down.
Oliver complied marvelling where the people could be found to read such a great number of books that seemed to be written to make the world wiser which is still a marvel to more experienced people than Oliver Twist every day of their lives.
There are a good many books are there not my boy?
Said Mr Brownlow observing the curiosity with which Oliver surveyed the shelves that reached from the floor to the ceiling.
A great number sir replied Oliver.
I never saw so many.
You shall read them if you behave well said the old gentleman kindly and you will like that better than looking at the outsides that is some cases because there are books of which the backs and covers are by far the best parts.
I suppose they're the heavy ones sir said Oliver pointing to some large quartos with a good deal of gilding about the binding.
Not always those said the old gentleman patting Oliver on the head and smiling as he did so.
There are other equally heavy ones though of a much larger size.
How should you like to grow up a clever man and write books eh?
I think I would rather read them sir said Oliver.
What wouldn't you like to be a book writer said the old gentleman.
Oliver considered a little while and at last he said he should think it would be much better thing to be a bookseller on which the old gentleman laughed heartily and declared he'd said a very good thing which Oliver felt glad to have done though he by no means knew what it was.
Well well said the old gentleman composing his features.
Don't be afraid we won't make an author of you while there's an honest trade to be learned or brick making to turn to.
Thank you sir said Oliver.
At the earliest manner of his reply the old gentleman laughed again and said something about a curious instinct which Oliver not understanding paid no very great attention to.
Now said Mr Brownlow speaking if possible in a kinder but at the same time a much more serious manner than Oliver had ever known him assume yet.
I want you to pay great attention my boy to what I'm going to say.
I shall talk to you without any reserve because I'm sure you're well able to understand me as many older persons would be.
Oh don't tell me you're going to send me away sir pray exclaimed Oliver alarmed at the serious tone of the old gentleman's commencement.
Don't turn me out of doors to wander in the street again let me stay here and be a servant.
Don't send me back to the wretched place I came from.
Have mercy upon a poor boy sir.
My dear child said the old gentleman moved by the warmth of Oliver's sudden appeal.
You need not be afraid of my deserting you unless you give me cause.
I never never will sir interposed Oliver.
I hope not rejoined the old gentleman.
I do not think you ever will.
I have been deceived before in the objects whom I've endeavored to benefit but I feel strongly disposed to trust you nevertheless and I'm more interested in your behalf than I can well account for even to myself.
The persons on whom I bestowed my dearest love lie deep in their graves but although the happiness and delight of my life lie buried there too I've not made a coffin of my heart and sealed it up forever on my best affections.
Deep affliction has but strengthened and refined them.
As the old gentleman said this in a low voice more to himself than to his companion and as he remained silent for a short time afterwards Oliver sat quite still.
Well well said the old gentleman at length in a more cheerful tone.
I only say this because you have a young heart and knowing that I've suffered great pain and sorrow you will be more careful perhaps not to wound me again.
You say you're an orphan without a friend in the world.
All the inquiries I've been able to make confirm this statement.
Let me hear of your story where you come from who brought you up and how you got into the company in which I found you.
Speak the truth and you shall not be friendless while I live.
Oliver's sobs checked his utterance for some minutes.
When he was on the point of beginning to relate how he'd been brought up at the farm and carried to the workhouse by Mr Bumble a peculiarly impatient little double knock was heard at the street door and the servant running upstairs announced Mr Grimwig.
Is he coming up?
Inquired Mr Brownlow.
Yes sir replied the servant.
He asked if there were any muffins in the house and when I told him yes he said he'd come to tea.
Mr Brownlow smiled and turned to Oliver said that Mr Grimwig was an old friend of his and he must not mind his being a little rough in his manners for he was a worthy creature at bottom as he had reason to know.
Shall I go downstairs sir?
Inquired Oliver.
No replied Mr Brownlow.
I would rather you remained here.
At this moment there walked into the room supporting himself by a thick stick a stout old gentleman rather lame in one leg who was dressed in a blue coat striped waistcoat nankeen breeches and gaiters and a broad brimmed white hat with the sides turned up with green.
A very small plaited shirt frill stuck out from his waistcoat and a very long steel watch chain with nothing but a key at the end dangled loosely below it.
The ends of his white neckerchief were twisted into a ball about the size of an orange.
The variety of shapes into which his countenance was twisted defy description.
He had a manner of screwing his head on one side when he spoke and of looking out of the corners of his eyes at the same time which irresistibly reminded the beholder of a parrot.
In this attitude he fixed himself the moment he made his appearance and holding out a small piece of orange peel at arm's length he exclaimed in a growling discontented voice.
Look here do you see this isn't it a most wonderful extraordinary thing that I can't call it a man's house but I find a piece of this poor surgeon's friend on the staircase I've been lamed with orange peel once and I know orange peel will be my death or I'll be content to eat my own head sir.
Mr Grimwig's head was such a particularly large one that the most sanguine man alive could hardly entertain any hope of being able to get through it in one sitting.
Hello what's that?
Said Mr Grimwig striking his stick upon the ground.
This is young Oliver Twist whom we were speaking about said Mr Browner.
Oliver bowed.
You don't mean to say that's the boy who had the fever I hope said Mr Grimwig recoiling a little more.
If that's not the boy sir who had the orange and threw this bit of peel upon the staircase I'll eat my head and his too.
No he has not had an orange said Mr Browner laughing.
Come put down your hat and speak to my young friend.
I feel strongly on this subject sir said the irritable old man drawing off his gloves.
There's always more or less orange peel on the pavement in our street and I know it's put there by the surgeon's boy in the corner.
Then still keeping his stick in his hand he sat down and opening a double eyed glass which he wore attached to a broad black ribbon he took a view of Oliver.
That's the boy is it sir?
Said Mr Grimwig at length.
That's the boy replied Mr Browner.
He is nice looking is he not?
I don't know replied Mr Grimwig pettishly.
Now the fact was that in the inmost recesses of his own heart Mr Grimwig was strongly disposed to admit that Oliver's appearance and manner were unusually pre-possessing but he had a strong appetite for contradiction sharpened on this occasion by the finding of the orange peel and inwardly determining that no man should dictate to him whether a boy was well looking or not he had resolved from the first to oppose his friends.
And when are you going to hear a full true and particular account of the life and the adventures of this Oliver Twist?
He asked.
Tomorrow morning replied Mr Browner.
I would rather he was alone with me at the time.
Come up to me tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock my dear.
Yes sir replied Oliver.
He answered with some hesitation because he was confused by Mr Grimwig's looking so hard at him.
I'll tell you what whispered that gentleman to Mr Brown though.
He won't come up to you tomorrow morning.
I saw him hesitate.
He is deceiving you my good friend.
You
