"Who, in Heaven's name?" "He calls himself Maurice Wyvil," replied Mrs. Bloundel. "I never heard of such a person," rejoined the doctor. "It must be an assumed name. Have you no letter or token that might lead to his discovery?" he added, turning to Amabel. "I have his portrait," she replied, drawing a small miniature from her bosom.
At the same time, his face underwent an equally striking change, each feature resuming its original expression; and the grocer, though he witnessed the whole transformation, could scarcely believe that the same individual he had recently beheld stood before him. "You now know who I am, Mr. Bloundel, and what brought me hither," said Rochester, with a haughty salutation.
When the bystanders recovered sufficient courage to drag the unfortunate sexton out of the pit, they found him quite dead. According to his promise, Doctor Hodges visited the grocer's house early on the following day, and the favourable opinion he had expressed respecting Stephen Bloundel was confirmed by the youth's appearance.
His entrance having been so noiseless that it passed unnoticed, he now stepped forward, and, addressing Doctor Hodges, acquainted him with his errand. "What!" exclaimed the doctor, as soon as he concluded, "a son of Stephen Bloundel, the worthy grocer of Wood-street, attacked by the plague! I will go with you instantly, young man. I have a great regard for your master a very great regard.
At this moment, a tap was heard at the door, and opening it, the doctor beheld the person in question. "What is the matter?" cried Hodges. "I hope nothing is amiss." "Nothing whatever," replied Leonard, "but my master wishes to see you before you leave the house." "I will go to him at once," replied the doctor. "Good day, Mrs. Bloundel.
"You must now choose between the heartless and depraved nobleman, who would desert you as soon as won," observed Mrs. Bloundel, "and the honest apprentice, whose life would be devoted to your happiness." "I have chosen," replied her daughter. Doctor Hodges found the grocer writing at a small table, close to the bedside of his son. "I am happy to tell you, Mr.
In fact, the establishment was conducted with the regularity of clockwork, it being the aim of its master not to pass a single hour of the day unprofitably. The ordinary prayers gone through, Stephen Bloundel offered up along and fervent supplication to the Most High for protection against the devouring pestilence with which the city was then scourged.
Things were in this state, when one day a knock was heard at the street-door, and the summons being answered by the grocer's eldest son, Stephen, he returned with the intelligence that a person was without who desired to see Patience. After some consideration, Mr. Bloundel summoned the kitchen-maid, and told her she might admit the stranger into the passage, and hear what he had to say.
Bloundel called his wife out of the room for a moment, and as their eldest son, Stephen, was in the shop, and the two other children upstairs, Amabel was left alone with her lover. The door was no sooner closed than he sprang towards her and threw himself at her feet. "Shall I avail myself of your father's offer, sweetheart?" he cried.
"If had my own way, he should leave it through the window," said Mrs. Bloundel; "and if he tarries a minute longer, I will give the alarm." "You hear this, sir," cried Amabel: "go, I entreat you." "I yield to circumstance, Amabel," replied Wyvil; "but think not I resign you. Come what will, and however I may be foiled, I will not desist till I make you mine." "I tremble to hear him," cried Mrs.