won't see it. There!' said the old lady, suiting the action to
the word; 'you don't see it now, at all events.'

Oliver _did_ see it in his mind's eye as distinctly as if he had
not altered his position; but he thought it better not to worry
the kind old lady; so he smiled gently when she looked at him;
and Mrs. Bedwin, satisfied that he felt more comfortable, salted
and broke bits of toasted bread into the broth, with all the
bustle befitting so solemn a preparation. Oliver got through it
with extraordinary expedition. He had scarcely swallowed the
last spoonful, when there came a soft rap at the door. 'Come
in,' said the old lady; and in walked Mr. Brownlow.

Now, the old gentleman came in as brisk as need be; but, he had
no sooner raised his spectacles on his forehead, and thrust his
hands behind the skirts of his dressing-gown to take a good long
look at Oliver, than his countenance underwent a very great
variety of odd contortions. Oliver looked very worn and shadowy
from sickness, and made an ineffectual attempt to stand up, out
of respect to his benefactor, which terminated in his sinking
back into the chair again; and the fact is, if the truth must be
told, that Mr. Brownlow's heart, being large enough for any six
ordinary old gentlemen of humane disposition, forced a supply of
tears into his eyes, by some hydraulic process which we are not
sufficiently philosophical to be in a condition to explain.

'Poor boy, poor boy!' said Mr. Brownlow, clearing his throat.
'I'm rather hoarse this morning, Mrs. Bedwin. I'm afraid I have
caught cold.'