"Dear me," said the gentleman, hastily rising, with great politeness, "I beg your pardon, young lady—-I imagined it was some importunate person who—I beg you will excuse me. Be seated, pray."
"Mr. Brownlow, I believe, sir?" said Rose.
"That is my name."
"I shall surprise you very much, I have no doubt," said Rose, naturally embarrassed; "but you once showed great kindness to a very dear young friend of mine, and I am sure you will take an interest in hearing of him again."
"Indeed!" said Mr. Brownlow.
"Oliver Twist, as you knew him," said Rose.
Mr. Brownlow was naturally surprised, but said nothing for a few moments. Then looking straight into her eyes, he remarked quietly but earnestly, "Believe me, my dear young lady, if you can tell me good news of that child, or lift the shadow which rests upon his name, you will be doing me the greatest service."
Rose at once related in a few words all that had befallen Oliver since leaving Mr. Brownlow's house; how he had searched for him but had only seen him that very day; and finally of the new danger which threatened the boy.
You may believe that Mr. Brownlow sat very straight, upon the extreme edge of his chair, during the latter part of this recital.
"The poor lad!" he exclaimed; "but why have you not brought him with you?"