Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 198: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. ~ ~~ _ _ me ey —_ Soaps AO 3» ea SS «aa eT Ufsia —_ — = gy iy? a ———— Wineries Hill eabl vat Ge? — _—__ Qo —— Le \ \ AW \\\W \ HM ft HT | y Mf i ~~ 25 a , Z a Ze LE oe | ij / j ~ “Well then, Joseph, if you persist you shall ac- company me. This way :’—and as he spoke, Mr. | Lanover crossed the street to the opposite side, I | following him close. He ascended three or four steps which led up into a sort of open court, called | Westmoreland Buildings; and as he now quickened his pace, he said, “ You see, Joseph, it is as I told you—a poor neighbourhood to which we have been reduced. This way! I am sure that Annabel will be overjoyed to see you. It is very kind of you— it touches me deeply—it makes me regret more than ever that there should have been a time when you experienced harsh treatment at my hands. Here—follow me.” We had reached the end of the dingy avenue constituting Westmoreland Buildings—we had turned to the right—then we had turned as abruptly to the left; and another turn, also to the left, took us under the arched entrance of a second 24 a ee If | | Hh} SAO OT aa | a AY Lp Oil S W 4% / i) 4// - i d / SY) if; NUT //) yf // / Whi, at Aft AATHTTTTR mine j ay it ({! “oy ~., —_ ee Vy a ZO court. On the wall under this arch was a siip of a board gn which the words “Albion Buildings” were painted; and the first glimpse that I caught | of the houses ahead, impressed me with an af_flict- ing idea of their poverty-stricken appearance. I had not the slightest alarm on my own account: all my thoughts were absorbed in the excited but melancholy contemplation of the image of Annabel bending over her work, toiling from morning till night to earn bread for herself and parents. Ina few moments Mr. Lanover stopped at a house on the right hand: he knocked at the door—it was opened by an elderly woman, very meanly dressed, and whom I took to be the landlady of the premises. “This is my nephew,” said Mr. Lanover, paus- ing for a moment to address these words to the woman: “he is @ good youth, and is anxious to see his aunt and cousin. Ah! you know, Mrs. mr a ee ee ee ee Glyoo S (c@)