[Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens]@TWC D-Link book
Oliver Twist

CHAPTER XXXIV
5/15

He seemed about five-and-twenty years of age, and was of the middle height; his countenance was frank and handsome; and his demeanor easy and prepossessing.

Notwithstanding the difference between youth and age, he bore so strong a likeness to the old lady, that Oliver would have had no great difficulty in imagining their relationship, if he had not already spoken of her as his mother.
Mrs.Maylie was anxiously waiting to receive her son when he reached the cottage.

The meeting did not take place without great emotion on both sides.
'Mother!' whispered the young man; 'why did you not write before ?' 'I did,' replied Mrs.Maylie; 'but, on reflection, I determined to keep back the letter until I had heard Mr.Losberne's opinion.' 'But why,' said the young man, 'why run the chance of that occurring which so nearly happened?
If Rose had--I cannot utter that word now--if this illness had terminated differently, how could you ever have forgiven yourself! How could I ever have know happiness again!' 'If that _had_ been the case, Harry,' said Mrs.Maylie, 'I fear your happiness would have been effectually blighted, and that your arrival here, a day sooner or a day later, would have been of very, very little import.' 'And who can wonder if it be so, mother ?' rejoined the young man; 'or why should I say, _if_ ?--It is--it is--you know it, mother--you must know it!' 'I know that she deserves the best and purest love the heart of man can offer,' said Mrs.Maylie; 'I know that the devotion and affection of her nature require no ordinary return, but one that shall be deep and lasting.

If I did not feel this, and know, besides, that a changed behaviour in one she loved would break her heart, I should not feel my task so difficult of performance, or have to encounter so many struggles in my own bosom, when I take what seems to me to be the strict line of duty.' 'This is unkind, mother,' said Harry.

'Do you still suppose that I am a boy ignorant of my own mind, and mistaking the impulses of my own soul ?' 'I think, my dear son,' returned Mrs.Maylie, laying her hand upon his shoulder, 'that youth has many generous impulses which do not last; and that among them are some, which, being gratified, become only the more fleeting.


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