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ground； and would weep for her； sadly； but without pain。
It was a happy time。 The days were peaceful and serene； the
nights brought with them neither fear nor care； no languishing in
a wretched prison； or associating with wretched men； nothing but
pleasant and happy thoughts。 Every morning he went to a white…
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headed old gentleman； who lived near the little church； who
taught him to read better； and to write； and who spoke so kindly；
and took such pains； that Oliver could never try enough to please
him。 Then； he would walk with Mrs。 Maylie and Rose； and hear
them talk of books； or perhaps sit near them； in some shady place；
and listen whilst the young lady read； which he could have done；
until it grew too dark to see the letters。 He had his own lesson for
the next day to prepare； and at this； he 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； listening
with such pleasure to all they said； and so happy if they wanted a
flower that he could climb to reach； or had forgotten anything he
could run to fetch； that he could never be quick enough about it。
When it became quite dark； and they returned home； the young
lady would sit down to a piano； and play some pleasant air； or sing；
in a low and gentle voice； some old song which it pleased her aunt
to hear。 There would be no candles lighted at such times as these；
and Oliver would sit by one of the windows； listening to the sweet
music； in a perfect rapture。
And when Sunday came； how differently the day was spent；
from any way in which he had ever spent it yet！ and how happily
too； like all the other days in that most happy time！ There was the
little church； in the morning； with the green leaves fluttering at
the windows； the birds singing without； and the sweet…smelling air
stealing in at the low porch； and filling the homely building with
its fragrance。 The poor people were so neat and clean and knelt so
reverently in prayer； that it seemed a pleasure； not a tedious duty；
their assembling there together； and though the singing might be
rude； it was real； and sounded more musical （to Oliver’s ears at
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least） than any he had ever heard in church before。 Then； there
were the walks as usual； and many calls at the clean houses of the
labouring men； and at night； Oliver read a chapter or two from the
Bible； which he had been studying all the week； and in the
performance of which duty he felt more proud and pleased； than if
he had been the clergyman himself。
In the morning； Oliver would be afoot by six o’clock； roaming
the fields； and plundering the hedges； far and wide； for nosegays
of wild flowers； with which he would return laden； home； and
which it took great care and consideration to arrange； to the best
advantage； for the embellishment of the breakfast…table。 There
was fresh groundsel； too； for Miss Maylie’s birds； with which
Oliver； who had been studying the subject under the able tuition
of the village clerk； would decorate the cages； in the most
approved taste。 When the birds were made all spruce and smart
for the day； there was usually some little commission of charity to
execute in the village； or； failing that； there was rare cricket…
playing； sometimes； on the green； or； failing that； there was always
something to do in the garden； or about the plants； to which Oliver
（who had studied this science also； under the same master； who
was a gardener by trade） applied himself with hearty goodwill；
until Miss Rose made her appearance； when there were a
thousand commendations to be bestowed on all he had done。
So 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
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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。
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Chapter 33
Wherein The Happiness Of Oliver And His Friends；
Experiences A Sudden Check。
S pring flew swiftly by； and summer came。 If the village had
been beautiful at first it was now in the full glow and
luxuriance of its richness。 The great trees； which had
looked shrunken and bare in the earlier months； had now burst
into strong life and health； and stretching forth their green arms
over the thirsty ground； converted open and naked spots into
choice nooks； where was a deep and pleasant shade from which to
look upon the wide prospect； steeped in sunshine； which lay
stretched beyond。 The earth had donned her mantle of brightest
green； and shed her richest perfumes abroad。 It was the prime and
vigour of the year； all things were glad and flourishing。
Still； the same quiet life went on at the little cottage； and the
same cheerful serenity prevailed among its inmates。 Oliver had
long since grown stout and healthy； but health or sickness made
no difference in his warm feelings to those about him； though they
do in the feelings of a great many people。 He was still the same
gentle； attached； affectionate creature that he had been when pain
and suffering had wasted his strength； and when he was
dependent for every slight attention and comfort on those who
tended him。
One beautiful night； they had taken a longer walk than was
customary with them； for the day had been unusually warm； and
there was a brilliant moon； and a light wind had sprung up； which
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was unusually refreshing。 Rose had been in high spirits； too； and
they had walked on； in merry conversation； until they had far
exceeded their ordinary bounds。 Mrs。 Maylie being fatigued； they
returned more slowly home。 The young lady merely throwing off
her simple bonnet； sat down to the piano as usual。 After running
abstractedly over the keys for a few minutes； she fell into a low
and very solemn air； and； as she played it； they heard a sound as if
she were weeping。
“Rose； my dear！” said the elder lady。
Rose made no reply； but played a little quicker； as though the
words had roused her from some painful thoughts。
“Rose； my love！” cried Mrs。 Maylie； rising hastily； and bending
over her。 “What is this？ In tears！ My dear child； what distresses
you？”
“Nothing； aunt； nothing；” replied the young lady。 “I don’t know
what it is； I can’t describe it； but I feel—”
“Not ill； my love？” interposed Mrs。 Maylie。
“No； no！ Oh； not ill！” replied Rose； shuddering as though some
deadly chillness were passing over her； while she spoke； “I shall be
better presently。 Close the window； pray！”
Oliver hastened to comply with her request。 The young lady；
making an effort to recover her cheerfulness； strove to play some
livelier tune； but her fingers dropped powerless on the keys。
Covering her face with her hands； she sank upon a sofa； and gave
vent to the tears which she was now unable to repress。
“My child！” said the elderly lady； folding her arms about her。 “I
never saw you so before。”
“I would not alarm you if I could avoid it；” rejoined Rose； “but
indeed I have tried very hard； and cannot help this。 I fear I am ill；
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aunt。”
She was； indeed； for； when candles were brought； they saw that
in the very short time which had elapsed since their return home；
the hue of her countenance had changed to a marble whiteness。
Its expression had lost nothing of its beauty； but it was changed；
and there was an anxious； haggard look about the gentle f