The String of Pearls (1850), p. 603

It was in one of these houses that Johanna and her young husband had taken up their residence. The string of pearls had been actually purchased by royalty of Johanna, and had produced a sum of money that had not only placed the young couple above all the ordinary pecuniary accidents of life, but had enabled them to surround Mr. and M»*s. Oakley with comforts, although the old spectacle-maker, from very habit, would stick to his shop, declaring, and no doubt with great truth, that his daily labour was now such a thing of habit that he would be miserable without it.
It was a very different thing, though, for old Mr. Oakley now to work at the bench in his shop, when he felt that he was placed above the real necessity for doing do, to when he had worked very hard indeed to support himself and Johanna, during the period, too, when in consequence of Mrs. Oakley's rather insane predilection for the Reverend Josiah Lupin, there was no comfort in the house, and, but for Johanna, all would have gone to rack and ruin.
The frightfully dirty ditch that lies before and beyond Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, was not then in existence, so that the really handsome row of residences was not destroyed—as it is now—by such dubious companionship. The river, too, was much clearer than now of craft, and likewise much sweeter, so that really
at times, when the sun shone upon its ripples, it really deserved the title of "The Silver Thames."
It was still an early hour when Sir Richard Blunt reached Chelsea—that is to say, it was what then was considered an early hour, for all the world was not in 'the hurry that is the fashion now, and people did everything in a much more easy and deliberate way than they do now.
What is gained, or pretented to be gained, by all the hurry-skurry and jostling, and driving that characterises society at present? We must confess ourselves
at a loss to imagine, and we are decidedly of opinion that people were both happier and better when everything was taken in an easy way, and when folks did not disturb their dignities by all sorts of frantic manoeuvres to save time, as if the whole end and aim of life was to get through as much of what is called business as possible, and as if the principal business of everybody was not to be as quiet and comfortable as possible.
The magistrate could not but pause for a moment as he reached Cheyne Walk and saw the bright sun shining upon the water, and guilding with beauty the sails of some small craft that were taking advantage of a light pleasant breeze to get along without labour.
"A pretty enough place this," he said, "and I don't know any that I should prefer to idle away my life in, if I had nothing to do, as I hope to have some of these odd days—but not yet."

CHAPTER CXLI.
SHOWS HOW TODD MADE UP HIS MIND TO VENGEANCE.

Sir Richard drew bridle opposite the house of Mr. Ingestrie, and called to an urchin who was passing to ring the bell for him. The boy complied. and in a few moments a servant made an appearance, to whom Sir Richard said—
"If your master is stirring, pray tell him that a gentleman wishes to speak to him for a few moments."
These words were hardly past the lips of the magistrate, when some one, a bunch of flowers in her hand, and one of the prettiest of pretty morning
dresses, came to the door. It was our old, dear, young, kind friend, Johanna!
We cannot help calling her Johanna still, although, perhaps, it would be more proper for us to name her Mrs. Ingestrie; but it seems so odd to append that title of "Mrs." to our gentle, youthful Johanna, whose dangers in Todd's shop we have watched and trembled at to often in times past.