Chapter 24 A New Family Several weeks of quiet living passed.
Life at Mrs. Maley'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 sitting 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 Sykes or Fagin to cause any more trouble.
It's 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?
Mr. 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, Mr. Brownlow said.
Monks cannot hurt you now.
As a matter of fact, he is here to help.
Monks nodded slowly.
My word, Mrs. Maley 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
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 Monkspot.
His name is actually Leifert.
He is the son of my dear friend, Edwin Leifert.
Then does that mean, Mrs. Mailey spoke slowly, Yes, Monks said.
Oliver is my half-brother.
He sighed and looked around the room.
My father arrived in Paris to discuss his will with my mother.
He wanted to ensure that Agnes and their unborn child were taken care of in case anything happened.
My father died before any papers were drawn up.
Since my mother and I were still his legal heirs, we were the first to go through his belongings.
We hid my father's wishes from the lawyers.
We told no one about Agnes or the child.
My mother was outraged.
She did not want to part with any of my father's money.
She was obsessed, and so was I.
Mrs. Mailey said, how could she do such a thing?
I am just as guilty, madam, Monks said.
I was greedy and did not want to share my father's money.
It didn't end there, though.
We were both afraid of discovery.
I'm afraid to say that I was nearly driven mad by the secrecy.
Everyone in the room sat quietly while Monks spoke.
Oliver sat next to Rose on the couch.
Her arm was draped over his shoulder.
We knew enough about Agnes to track her down, Monks continued.
We discovered her father and younger sister living in the family home.
Agnes had disappeared a few months earlier.
I searched through the records of many towns and workhouses until I discovered the death of the young woman.
She was Agnes's age and had given birth to a boy.
The boy was still living in the workhouse.
He had been given the name Oliver Twist.
We worried that Agnes's family would make the same discovery.
Her father, however, had grown sick with worry.
He had moved to a seaside town with his young daughter and lived a life of isolation.
He died in his small cottage, leaving the girl with no known relatives alive.
My mother and I had hoped that all our problems were solved.
The young girl was left with a widow.
We assumed that she would be sent to an orphanage.
The widow, however, considered her family and raised her as her niece.
Rose looked to Mrs. Mailey, then Harry, then Mr. Brownlow.
She was speechless.
Do you understand, Mrs. Maley said, that Rose was that girl?
Yes, Monks said.
I've been watching your family, from a distance of course, for many years now.
Rose is the younger sister of Agnes.
I can't quite believe this, Rose said.
Harry hugged her.
Oliver looked up at her.
"'That makes you my aunt.'
Oliver hugged Rose once more.
This time, however, he thought he might never let go.
"'And that,' Mr. Brownlow said, "'is the end of the story.'
He ruffled Oliver's hair.
"'That is funny,' Harry laughed.
"'It feels like the beginning to me.'
He watched Rose and Oliver embrace.
Rose smiled back at him.
Oh, Mr. Brownlow, Mrs. Mayleash said, we can't thank you enough.
I think this means our Rose will finally agree to marry Harry.
The room was filled with laughter and tears.
The only one who looked uncomfortable was Monks.
He felt guilt and shame about his actions.
Mr. Brownlow had agreed not to press charges.
Monks agreed to give Oliver his share of the inheritance.
So this is where we leave our young hero.
Fear not, though.
Oliver Twist lived a warm and happy life from that point on.
Harry and Rose were married.
Mrs. Mailey and Oliver continued to live with them in the sweet little house with a garden.
Mr. Brown, though, visited often.
At long last, Oliver had a family.
His life was filled with more people and more love than he ever could have imagined.
