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 32 Of the happy life Oliver began to lead with his kind friends.
Oliver's ailings were neither slight nor few.
In addition to the pain and delay attendant on a broken limb,
His exposure to the wet and cold had brought on fever which hung about him for many weeks and reduced him sadly.
But at length he began by slow degrees to get better and to be able to say sometimes in a few tearful words how deeply he felt the goodness of the two sweet ladies and how ardently he hoped when he grew strong and well again he could do something to show his gratitude that would let them see the love and duty with which his breast was full.
Poor fellow said Rose when Oliver had one day been feebly endeavoring to utter the words of thankfulness that rose to his pale lips.
You shall have many opportunities of serving us if you will.
We're going into the country and my heart intends you should accompany us.
The quiet place,
The pure air and all the pleasure and beauties of spring will restore you in a few days.
If I could only but work for you,
If I could give you pleasure by watering your flowers said Oliver or watching your birds or running up and down the whole day long to make you happy what I would give to do it.
You shall give nothing at all said Miss Maylie smiling.
As I told you before we shall employ you in a hundred ways and if you only take half the trouble to please us that you promise now you'll make us very happy indeed.
You'll make me happier than I can tell you replied Rose.
To think my dear good aunt should have been the means of rescuing anyone from such sad misery as you described to us would be an unspeakable pleasure to me but to know the object of her goodness and compassion was sincerely grateful would delight me.
Do you understand?
She watched Oliver's thoughtful face.
Oh yes mum yes replied Oliver but I was thinking I'm ungrateful now.
To whom?
To the kind gentleman and the dear old nurse who took so much care of me before.
If they only knew how happy I am now they would be pleased I'm sure.
I'm sure they would rejoined Oliver's benefactress.
Mr.
Lossburn's already been kind enough to promise when you're well enough again to bear the journey he'll carry you to see them.
I see mum cried Oliver his face brightening with pleasure.
I don't know what I should do for joy when I see their kind faces again.
In a short time Oliver was sufficiently recovered to undergo the fatigue of his expedition.
One morning he and Mr.
Lossburn set out accordingly in a little carriage which belonged to Mrs.
Mailey.
When they came to Chertsey Bridge Oliver turned very pale and uttered a loud exclamation.
What's the matter?
Cried the doctor.
Do you see anything?
Do you feel anything eh?
That sir cried Oliver pointing out of the carriage window.
That house over there.
The thieves that's the house they took me to.
The devil it is cried the doctor.
Let me out hello there coachman let me out.
But before the coachman could dismount from his box he tumbled out of the coach by some means or another and running down to the deserted tenement the doctor began kicking at the door like a madman.
Hello said the little ugly humpbacked man as he opened the door.
What's the matter here?
Matter exclaimed the other collaring him without a moment's reflection.
If you don't take your hands off do you hear me?
I hear you said the doctor.
Where confound the fellow?
What's his rascally name?
Where's where's Sykes the thief?
The humpback man stared as if in excess of amazement and indignation then twisting himself around dexterously from the doctor's grasp he growled forth a volley of horrid oaths and retired into the house but before he could shut the door the doctor passed into the parlor without a word of parley.
He looked anxiously around not an article of furniture not a vestige of anything animate or inanimate not even the position of the cupboards answered Oliver's description.
He returned to the carriage.
I'm an ass he said after a long silence did you know that before Oliver?
No sir.
Then don't forget it another time.
Even if that had been the right place and the right fellows had been there what could I have done single-handed and if I had had assistance I see no good that I should have done except leading to my own exposure and an unavoidable statement of the manner in which I've hushed up this business.
That would have served me right and I'm always involving myself in some scrape or another by acting on impulse.
They carried on as Oliver knew the name of the street in which Mr Brownlow resided.
Which house is it?
Inquired Mr Losburn.
That that replied Oliver pointing eagerly out of the window.
It's the White House oh make haste pray make haste I feel as if I should die.
Come come said the good doctor patting him on the shoulder you will see them directly and they will be overjoyed to find you safe and well.
I hope so cried Oliver they were so good to me so very good to me.
The coach stopped and it went on and stopped again.
Oliver looked up at the windows with tears of happy expectation.
Alas the White House was empty and there was a bill in the window.
To let he'd said.
Knock at the next door cried Mr Losburn taking Oliver's arm.
What has become of Mr Brownlow who used to live in the adjoining house do you know?
He knocked but the servant did not know.
She went to inquire and presently returned and said Mr Brownlow had sold off his goods and gone to the West Indies six weeks before.
Oliver sank feebly backward.
Has his housekeeper gone too?
Inquired Mr Losburn.
Yes sir replied the servant.
The old gentleman the housekeeper and a gentleman who was a friend of Mr Brownlow's they all went together.
Well that's that said Mr Losburn.
Turn towards home again and don't stop to bait the horses till you get out of this confounded London.
What about the bookstore keeper sir?
Said Oliver.
I know the way there.
See him can we see him?
But the doctor disagreed.
My poor boy this is disappointment enough for one day he said.
Quite enough for both of us.
If we go to the bookstore keepers we'll certainly find he's dead or set his house on fire or something.
No home again straight home and in obedience to the doctor's impulse home they went.
This disappointment however occasioned no alteration in the behavior of Oliver's benefactors.
After another fortnight when the fine weather had fairly begun and every tree and flower was putting forth its young leaves and blossoms they made preparations for quitting their house at Chertsey for some months.
Who can describe the pleasure and delight the peace of mind and soft tranquility the sickly boy Oliver felt in the balmy air among the green hills and rich woods of an inland village?
Who can tell how scenes of peace and quietude sink into the minds of pain-worn dwellers in close and noisy places and carry their own freshness deep into their jaded hearts?
Men who have lived in crowded pent-up streets through lives of toil and who have never wished for change.
Men to whom custom has indeed been second nature and who have come almost to love each brick and stone that form the narrow boundaries of their daily walks.
Even they with a hand of death upon them have been known to yearn at last for one short glimpse of nature's face and carried far from the scenes of their old pains and pleasures have seemed to pass at once into a new state of being.
This was a happy time.
Oliver's days were peaceful and serene and the nights brought with them neither fear nor care.
Every morning he went to a white-haired old gentleman who lived near the little church.
He taught him to read better and to write and he spoke so kindly that Oliver could never try enough to please him.
Then he would walk out with Mrs Maylie in rows and hear them talk of books,
Then sit in some shady place and listen whilst the young lady read.
He had his own lessons and would work hard in a little room which looked into the garden till evening came slowly on when the ladies would walk out again and he with them.
And so it was that three months glided away,
Three months which in the life of the most blessed and favoured of mortals might have been unmingled happiness and which in Oliver's were true felicity.
With the purest and most amiable generosity on one side and the truest warmest soul-felt gratitude on the other,
It is no wonder that by the end of that short time Oliver Twist had become completely domesticated with the old lady and her niece and that the fervent attachment of his young and sensitive heart was repaid by their pride in and attachment to himself.
