24 A New Family

CHAPTER 24 A New Family Several weeks of quiet living passed. Life at Mrs. Maylie's seemed remarkably calm after so much excitement. It was a bright summer's day when Oliver was called in from the garden. Rose said that there was someone there to see him. Oliver jumped for joy when he saw Mr. Brownlow in the sitting room. He hugged the gentleman with all his might. "Oliver," Mr. Brownlow said. "It's wonderful to see you. I'm glad to see you safe and in capable hands."

"It's wonderful here," Oliver said. "Everyone is kind and wonderful. It's just like living with you and Mrs. Bedwin." Brownlow laughed and ruffled the boy's hair. "You're a lucky boy to have so many homes." "Especially when I had none for so many years," Oliver replied. "I've come with some very important news. I'm sure you will all want to hear it," Mr. Brownlow said. "First of all, I've heard from the police. Fagin has been sentenced to many years of hard labor. I think we can all relax on that front." "It looks like you have nothing to worry about, Oliver," Harry said. He touched the young boy on the shoulder. "No Bill Sikes or Fagin to cause any more trouble. It is a shame about Nancy, though." Everyone in the room nodded sadly. Oliver looked like he might

cry. Mr. Brownlow took a deep breath. He asked everyone to take a seat. "Now, would you please excuse me for a moment." Brownlow walked into the hall. After a moment he returned with another man. It was none other than Monks! Oliver was horrified. He jumped from his seat and ran to stand beside Harry's seat. "Don't worry, Oliver," Brownlow said. "Monks cannot hurt you now. As a matter of fact, he is here to help." Monks nodded slowly. "My word," Mrs. Maylie said. "Whatever could this mean?" "Oliver," Mr. Brownlow said. "Please come and sit by me. You are the center of this story. It has all come out because you were brave enough to come to London." Brownlow looked to Monks. "Shall I start the

story?" Monks nodded once again but remained silent. He looked tired and ashamed. "Do you remember the painting of the woman above my fireplace?" Brownlow asked Oliver. The boy nodded. "I noticed that painting, too," Harry piped up. "It was very striking." "It was given to me by my oldest and dearest friend before he left on a long trip. He was going to Paris to settle his finances. His ex-wife and son lived there. My friend had fallen in love again and wanted to remarry. The painting is of Agnes, the young woman he loved. He asked me to keep it until he returned. Unfortunately, I received word several weeks later that my friend had died while abroad." "Oh, how awful," Rose exclaimed. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you, Rose," Mr. Brownlow said. "That's very kind of you." Brownlow took something from his pocket. "Now, Oliver. Would you be so kind as to look inside this locket?" Oliver opened up the locket. He let out a gasp when he saw the inside. "Mr. Brownlow!" he said. "It's the same woman from the painting!" "Yes, my boy." Mr. Brownlow closed Oliver's hand around the locket. "This locket belongs to you." "Me?" Oliver was taken aback. "Why would you give it to me?" "It is your mother who wanted you to have it," Brownlow said. "She gave it to you shortly before she died, but greedy persons at the workhouse kept it from you. You see, Oliver, I noticed your similarity to the painting right away. I contacted Mr. and Mrs.

Bumble at the workhouse seeking more information. They came to see me—looking for money, of course—and delivered this locket." "My mother?" Oliver said. The boy was in shock. "This is an amazing story," Rose exclaimed. She hugged Oliver. "I'm so happy for you, Oliver. You've found your family." "There's more to this story, Rose," Brownlow said. "And I think you'll find it of particular interest," he said to her. "Me?" Rose said, sitting back down. "I think it's time that we bring our guest into the story," Brownlow said. "Oliver, you know this gentleman by the name of Monks, but his name is actually Leeford. He is the son of my dear friend, Edwin Leeford." "Then, does that mean…?" Mrs. Maylie spoke slowly.