Chapter 16
THE FEAST OF THE THREE HOBGOBLINS
The City looked unpromising enough, as Bella made her way along itsgritty streets. Most of its money-mills were slackening sail, or hadleft off grinding for the day. The master-millers had already departed,and the journeymen were departing. There was a jaded aspect onthe business lanes and courts, and the very pavements had a wearyappearance, confused by the tread of a million of feet. There must behours of night to temper down the day's distraction of so feverish aplace. As yet the worry of the newly-stopped whirling and grinding onthe part of the money-mills seemed to linger in the air, and the quietwas more like the prostration of a spent giant than the repose of onewho was renewing his strength.
If Bella thought, as she glanced at the mighty Bank, how agreeable itwould be to have an hour's gardening there, with a bright copper shovel,among the money, still she was not in an avaricious vein. Much improvedin that respect, and with certain half-formed images which had littlegold in their composition, dancing before her bright eyes, she arrivedin the drug-flavoured region of Mincing Lane, with the sensation ofhaving just opened a drawer in a chemist's shop.
The counting-house of Chicksey, Veneering, and Stobbles was pointed outby an elderly female accustomed to the care of offices, who dropped uponBella out of a public-house, wiping her mouth, and accounted for itshumidity on natural principles well known to the physical sciences, byexplaining that she had looked in at the door to see what o'clock itwas. The counting-house was a wall-eyed ground floor by a dark gateway,and Bella was considering, as she approached it, could there be anyprecedent in the City for her going in and asking for R. Wilfer, whenwhom should she see, sitting at one of the windows with the plate-glasssash raised, but R. Wilfer himself, preparing to take a slightrefection.
On approaching nearer, Bella discerned that the refection hadthe appearance of a small cottage-loaf and a pennyworth of milk.Simultaneously with this discovery on her part, her father discoveredher, and invoked the echoes of Mincing Lane to exclaim 'My gracious me!'
He then came cherubically flying out without a hat, and embraced her,and handed her in. 'For it's after hours and I am all alone, my dear,'he explained, 'and am having--as I sometimes do when they are allgone--a quiet tea.'
Looking round the office, as if her father were a captive and this hiscell, Bella hugged him and choked him to her heart's content.
'I never was so surprised, my dear!' said her father. 'I couldn'tbelieve my eyes. Upon my life, I thought they had taken to lying! Theidea of your coming down the Lane yourself! Why didn't you send thefootman down the Lane, my dear?'
'I have brought no footman with me, Pa.'
'Oh indeed! But you have brought the elegant turn-out, my love?'
'No, Pa.'
'You never can have walked, my dear?'
'Yes, I have, Pa.'
He looked so very much astonished, that Bella could not make up her mindto break it to him just yet.
'The consequence is, Pa, that your lovely woman feels a little faint,and would very much like to share your tea.'
The cottage loaf and the pennyworth of milk had been set forth on asheet of paper on the window-seat. The cherubic pocket-knife, with thefirst bit of the loaf still on its point, lay beside them where it hadbeen hastily thrown down. Bella took the bit off, and put it in hermouth. 'My dear child,' said her father, 'the idea of your partaking ofsuch lowly fare! But at least you must have your own loaf and your ownpenn'orth. One moment, my dear. The Dairy is just over the way and roundthe corner.'
Regardless of Bella's dissuasions he ran out, and quickly returned withthe new supply. 'My dear child,' he said, as he spread it on anotherpiece of paper before her, 'the idea of a splendid--!' and then lookedat her figure, and stopped short.
'What's the matter, Pa?'
'--of a splendid female,' he resumed more slowly, 'putting up withsuch accommodation as the present!--Is that a new dress you have on, mydear?'
'No, Pa, an old one. Don't you remember it?'
'Why, I THOUGHT I remembered it, my dear!'
'You should, for you bought it, Pa.'
'Yes, I THOUGHT I bought it my dear!' said the cherub, giving himself alittle shake, as if to rouse his faculties.
'And have you grown so fickle that you don't like your own taste, Padear?'
'Well, my love,' he returned, swallowing a bit of the cottage loaf withconsiderable effort, for it seemed to stick by the way: 'I should havethought it was hardly sufficiently splendid for existing circumstances.'
'And so, Pa,' said Bella, moving coaxingly to his side instead ofremaining opposite, 'you sometimes have a quiet tea here all alone? Iam not in the tea's way, if I draw my arm over your shoulder like this,Pa?'
'Yes, my dear, and no, my dear. Yes to the first question, and CertainlyNot to the second. Respecting the quiet tea, my dear, why you see theoccupations of the day are sometimes a little wearing; and if there'snothing interposed between the day and your mother, why SHE is sometimesa little wearing, too.'
'I know, Pa.'
'Yes, my dear. So sometimes I put a quiet tea at the window here, witha little quiet contemplation of the Lane (which comes soothing), betweenthe day, and domestic--'
'Bliss,' suggested Bella, sorrowfully.
'And domestic Bliss,' said her father, quite contented to accept thephrase.
Bella kissed him. 'And it is in this dark dingy place of captivity,poor dear, that you pass all the hours of your life when you are not athome?'
'Not at home, or not on the road there, or on the road here, my love.Yes. You see that little desk in the corner?'
'In the dark corner, furthest both from the light and from thefireplace? The shabbiest desk of all the desks?'
'Now, does it really strike you in that point of view, my dear?' saidher father, surveying it artistically with his head on one side: 'that'smine. That's called Rumty's Perch.'
'Whose Perch?' asked Bella with great indignation.
'Rumty's. You see, being rather high and up two steps they call it aPerch. And they call ME Rumty.'
'How dare they!' exclaimed Bella.
'They're playful, Bella my dear; they're playful. They're more or lessyounger than I am, and they're playful. What does it matter? It mightbe Surly, or Sulky, or fifty disagreeable things that I really shouldn'tlike to be considered. But Rumty! Lor, why not Rumty?'
To inflict a heavy disappointment on this sweet nature, which had been,through all her caprices, the object of her recognition, love, andadmiration from infancy, Bella felt to be the hardest task of her hardday. 'I should have done better,' she thought, 'to tell him at first;I should have done better to tell him just now, when he had some slightmisgiving; he is quite happy again, and I shall make him wretched.'
He was falling back on his loaf and milk, with the pleasantestcomposure, and Bella stealing her arm a little closer about him, and atthe same time sticking up his hair with an irresistible propensityto play with him founded on the habit of her whole life, had preparedherself to say: 'Pa dear, don't be cast down, but I must tell yousomething disagreeable!' when he interrupted her in an unlooked-formanner.
'My gracious me!' he exclaimed, invoking the Mincing Lane echoes asbefore. 'This is very extraordinary!'
'What is, Pa?'
'Why here's Mr Rokesmith now!'
'No, no, Pa, no,' cried Bella, greatly flurried. 'Surely not.'
'Yes there is! Look here!'
Sooth to say, Mr Rokesmith not only passed the window, but came into thecounting-house. And not only came into the counting-house, but, findinghimself alone there with Bella and her father, rushed at Bella andcaught her in his arms, with the rapturous words 'My dear, dear girl; mygallant, generous, disinterested, courageous, noble girl!' And not onlythat even, (which one might have thought astonishment enough for onedose), but Bella, after hanging her head for a moment, lifted it up andlaid it on his breast, as if that were her head's chosen and lastingresting-place!
'I knew you
would come to him, and I followed you,' said Rokesmith. 'Mylove, my life! You ARE mine?'
To which Bella responded, 'Yes, I AM yours if you think me worthtaking!' And after that, seemed to shrink to next to nothing in theclasp of his arms, partly because it was such a strong one on his part,and partly because there was such a yielding to it on hers.
The cherub, whose hair would have done for itself under the influence ofthis amazing spectacle, what Bella had just now done for it, staggeredback into the window-seat from which he had risen, and surveyed the pairwith his eyes dilated to their utmost.
'But we must think of dear Pa,' said Bella; 'I haven't told dear Pa; letus speak to Pa.' Upon which they turned to do so.
'I wish first, my dear,' remarked the cherub faintly, 'that you'd havethe kindness to sprinkle me with a little milk, for I feel as if Iwas--Going.'
In fact, the good little fellow had become alarmingly limp, and hissenses seemed to be rapidly escaping, from the knees upward. Bellasprinkled him with kisses instead of milk, but gave him a little of thatarticle to drink; and he gradually revived under her caressing care.
'We'll break it to you gently, dearest Pa,' said Bella.
'My dear,' returned the cherub, looking at them both, 'you broke so muchin the first--Gush, if I may so express myself--that I think I am equalto a good large breakage now.'
'Mr Wilfer,' said John Rokesmith, excitedly and joyfully, 'Bella takesme, though I have no fortune, even no present occupation; nothing butwhat I can get in the life before us. Bella takes me!'
'Yes, I should rather have inferred, my dear sir,' returned the cherubfeebly, 'that Bella took you, from what I have within these few minutesremarked.'
'You don't know, Pa,' said Bella, 'how ill I have used him!'
'You don't know, sir,' said Rokesmith, 'what a heart she has!'
'You don't know, Pa,' said Bella, 'what a shocking creature I wasgrowing, when he saved me from myself!'
'You don't know, sir,' said Rokesmith, 'what a sacrifice she has madefor me!'
'My dear Bella,' replied the cherub, still pathetically scared, 'and mydear John Rokesmith, if you will allow me so to call you--'
'Yes do, Pa, do!' urged Bella. 'I allow you, and my will is his law.Isn't it--dear John Rokesmith?'
There was an engaging shyness in Bella, coupled with an engagingtenderness of love and confidence and pride, in thus first calling himby name, which made it quite excusable in John Rokesmith to do what hedid. What he did was, once more to give her the appearance of vanishingas aforesaid.
'I think, my dears,' observed the cherub, 'that if you could make itconvenient to sit one on one side of me, and the other on the other, weshould get on rather more consecutively, and make things ratherplainer. John Rokesmith mentioned, a while ago, that he had no presentoccupation.'
'None,' said Rokesmith.
'No, Pa, none,' said Bella.
'From which I argue,' proceeded the cherub, 'that he has left MrBoffin?'
'Yes, Pa. And so--'
'Stop a bit, my dear. I wish to lead up to it by degrees. And that MrBoffin has not treated him well?'
'Has treated him most shamefully, dear Pa!' cried Bella with a flashingface.
'Of which,' pursued the cherub, enjoining patience with his hand, 'acertain mercenary young person distantly related to myself, could notapprove? Am I leading up to it right?'
'Could not approve, sweet Pa,' said Bella, with a tearful laugh and ajoyful kiss.
'Upon which,' pursued the cherub, 'the certain mercenary young persondistantly related to myself, having previously observed and mentionedto myself that prosperity was spoiling Mr Boffin, felt that she must notsell her sense of what was right and what was wrong, and what was trueand what was false, and what was just and what was unjust, for anyprice that could be paid to her by any one alive? Am I leading up to itright?'
With another tearful laugh Bella joyfully kissed him again.
'And therefore--and therefore,' the cherub went on in a glowing voice,as Bella's hand stole gradually up his waistcoat to his neck, 'thismercenary young person distantly related to myself, refused theprice, took off the splendid fashions that were part of it, put on thecomparatively poor dress that I had last given her, and trusting to mysupporting her in what was right, came straight to me. Have I led up toit?'
Bella's hand was round his neck by this time, and her face was on it.
'The mercenary young person distantly related to myself,' said hergood father, 'did well! The mercenary young person distantly relatedto myself, did not trust to me in vain! I admire this mercenary youngperson distantly related to myself, more in this dress than if she hadcome to me in China silks, Cashmere shawls, and Golconda diamonds. Ilove this young person dearly. I say to the man of this young person'sheart, out of my heart and with all of it, "My blessing on thisengagement betwixt you, and she brings you a good fortune when shebrings you the poverty she has accepted for your sake and the honesttruth's!"'
The stanch little man's voice failed him as he gave John Rokesmith hishand, and he was silent, bending his face low over his daughter. But,not for long. He soon looked up, saying in a sprightly tone:
'And now, my dear child, if you think you can entertain John Rokesmithfor a minute and a half, I'll run over to the Dairy, and fetch HIM acottage loaf and a drink of milk, that we may all have tea together.'
It was, as Bella gaily said, like the supper provided for the threenursery hobgoblins at their house in the forest, without theirthunderous low growlings of the alarming discovery, 'Somebody's beendrinking MY milk!' It was a delicious repast; by far the most deliciousthat Bella, or John Rokesmith, or even R. Wilfer had ever made. Theuncongenial oddity of its surroundings, with the two brass knobs of theiron safe of Chicksey, Veneering, and Stobbles staring from a corner,like the eyes of some dull dragon, only made it the more delightful.
'To think,' said the cherub, looking round the office with unspeakableenjoyment, 'that anything of a tender nature should come off here, iswhat tickles me. To think that ever I should have seen my Bella foldedin the arms of her future husband, HERE, you know!'
It was not until the cottage loaves and the milk had for some timedisappeared, and the foreshadowings of night were creeping over MincingLane, that the cherub by degrees became a little nervous, and said toBella, as he cleared his throat:
'Hem!--Have you thought at all about your mother, my dear?'
'Yes, Pa.'
'And your sister Lavvy, for instance, my dear?'
'Yes, Pa. I think we had better not enter into particulars at home. Ithink it will be quite enough to say that I had a difference with MrBoffin, and have left for good.'
'John Rokesmith being acquainted with your Ma, my love,' said herfather, after some slight hesitation, 'I need have no delicacy inhinting before him that you may perhaps find your Ma a little wearing.'
'A little, patient Pa?' said Bella with a tuneful laugh: the tune fullerfor being so loving in its tone.
'Well! We'll say, strictly in confidence among ourselves, wearing;we won't qualify it,' the cherub stoutly admitted. 'And your sister'stemper is wearing.'
'I don't mind, Pa.'
'And you must prepare yourself you know, my precious,' said her father,with much gentleness, 'for our looking very poor and meagre at home, andbeing at the best but very uncomfortable, after Mr Boffin's house.'
'I don't mind, Pa. I could bear much harder trials--for John.'
The closing words were not so softly and blushingly said but that Johnheard them, and showed that he heard them by again assisting Bella toanother of those mysterious disappearances.
'Well!' said the cherub gaily, and not expressing disapproval, 'whenyou--when you come back from retirement, my love, and reappear on thesurface, I think it will be time to lock up and go.'
If the counting-house of Chicksey, Veneering, and Stobbles had ever beenshut up by three happier people, glad as most people were to shut it up,they must have been superlatively happy indeed. But first Bella
mountedupon Rumty's Perch, and said, 'Show me what you do here all day long,dear Pa. Do you write like this?' laying her round cheek upon her plumpleft arm, and losing sight of her pen in waves of hair, in a highlyunbusiness-like manner. Though John Rokesmith seemed to like it.
So, the three hobgoblins, having effaced all traces of their feast, andswept up the crumbs, came out of Mincing Lane to walk to Holloway; andif two of the hobgoblins didn't wish the distance twice as long as itwas, the third hobgoblin was much mistaken. Indeed, that modest spiritdeemed himself so much in the way of their deep enjoyment of thejourney, that he apologetically remarked: 'I think, my dears, I'll takethe lead on the other side of the road, and seem not to belong to you.'Which he did, cherubically strewing the path with smiles, in the absenceof flowers.
It was almost ten o'clock when they stopped within view of WilferCastle; and then, the spot being quiet and deserted, Bella began aseries of disappearances which threatened to last all night.
'I think, John,' the cherub hinted at last, 'that if you can spare methe young person distantly related to myself, I'll take her in.'
'I can't spare her,' answered John, 'but I must lend her to you.--MyDarling!' A word of magic which caused Bella instantly to disappearagain.
'Now, dearest Pa,' said Bella, when she became visible, 'put your handin mine, and we'll run home as fast as ever we can run, and get it over.Now, Pa. Once!--'
'My dear,' the cherub faltered, with something of a craven air, 'I wasgoing to observe that if your mother--'
'You mustn't hang back, sir, to gain time,' cried Bella, putting out herright foot; 'do you see that, sir? That's the mark; come up to the mark,sir. Once! Twice! Three times and away, Pa!' Off she skimmed, bearingthe cherub along, nor ever stopped, nor suffered him to stop, until shehad pulled at the bell. 'Now, dear Pa,' said Bella, taking him by bothears as if he were a pitcher, and conveying his face to her rosy lips,'we are in for it!'
Miss Lavvy came out to open the gate, waited on by that attentivecavalier and friend of the family, Mr George Sampson. 'Why, it's neverBella!' exclaimed Miss Lavvy starting back at the sight. And thenbawled, 'Ma! Here's Bella!'
This produced, before they could get into the house, Mrs Wilfer. Who,standing in the portal, received them with ghostly gloom, and all herother appliances of ceremony.
'My child is welcome, though unlooked for,' said she, at the timepresenting her cheek as if it were a cool slate for visitors to enrolthemselves upon. 'You too, R. W., are welcome, though late. Does themale domestic of Mrs Boffin hear me there?' This deep-toned inquiry wascast forth into the night, for response from the menial in question.
'There is no one waiting, Ma, dear,' said Bella.
'There is no one waiting?' repeated Mrs Wilfer in majestic accents.
'No, Ma, dear.'
A dignified shiver pervaded Mrs Wilfer's shoulders and gloves, aswho should say, 'An Enigma!' and then she marched at the head of theprocession to the family keeping-room, where she observed:
'Unless, R. W.': who started on being solemnly turned upon: 'you havetaken the precaution of making some addition to our frugal supper onyour way home, it will prove but a distasteful one to Bella. Cold neckof mutton and a lettuce can ill compete with the luxuries of Mr Boffin'sboard.'
'Pray don't talk like that, Ma dear,' said Bella; 'Mr Boffin's board isnothing to me.'
But, here Miss Lavinia, who had been intently eyeing Bella's bonnet,struck in with 'Why, Bella!'
'Yes, Lavvy, I know.'
The Irrepressible lowered her eyes to Bella's dress, and stooped to lookat it, exclaiming again: 'Why, Bella!'
'Yes, Lavvy, I know what I have got on. I was going to tell Ma when youinterrupted. I have left Mr Boffin's house for good, Ma, and I have comehome again.'
Mrs Wilfer spake no word, but, having glared at her offspring for aminute or two in an awful silence, retired into her corner of statebackward, and sat down: like a frozen article on sale in a Russianmarket.
'In short, dear Ma,' said Bella, taking off the depreciated bonnet andshaking out her hair, 'I have had a very serious difference with MrBoffin on the subject of his treatment of a member of his household, andit's a final difference, and there's an end of all.'
'And I am bound to tell you, my dear,' added R. W., submissively, 'thatBella has acted in a truly brave spirit, and with a truly right feeling.And therefore I hope, my dear, you'll not allow yourself to be greatlydisappointed.'
'George!' said Miss Lavvy, in a sepulchral, warning voice, founded onher mother's; 'George Sampson, speak! What did I tell you about thoseBoffins?'
Mr Sampson perceiving his frail bark to be labouring among shoals andbreakers, thought it safest not to refer back to any particular thingthat he had been told, lest he should refer back to the wrong thing.With admirable seamanship he got his bark into deep water by murmuring'Yes indeed.'
'Yes! I told George Sampson, as George Sampson tells you,' said MissLavvy, 'that those hateful Boffins would pick a quarrel with Bella, assoon as her novelty had worn off. Have they done it, or have they not?Was I right, or was I wrong? And what do you say to us, Bella, of yourBoffins now?'
'Lavvy and Ma,' said Bella, 'I say of Mr and Mrs Boffin what I alwayshave said; and I always shall say of them what I always have said. Butnothing will induce me to quarrel with any one to-night. I hope youare not sorry to see me, Ma dear,' kissing her; 'and I hope you are notsorry to see me, Lavvy,' kissing her too; 'and as I notice the lettuceMa mentioned, on the table, I'll make the salad.'
Bella playfully setting herself about the task, Mrs Wilfer's impressivecountenance followed her with glaring eyes, presenting a combinationof the once popular sign of the Saracen's Head, with a piece ofDutch clock-work, and suggesting to an imaginative mind that from thecomposition of the salad, her daughter might prudently omit the vinegar.But no word issued from the majestic matron's lips. And this was moreterrific to her husband (as perhaps she knew) than any flow of eloquencewith which she could have edified the company.
'Now, Ma dear,' said Bella in due course, 'the salad's ready, and it'spast supper-time.'
Mrs Wilfer rose, but remained speechless. 'George!' said Miss Laviniain her voice of warning, 'Ma's chair!' Mr Sampson flew to the excellentlady's back, and followed her up close chair in hand, as she stalkedto the banquet. Arrived at the table, she took her rigid seat, afterfavouring Mr Sampson with a glare for himself, which caused the younggentleman to retire to his place in much confusion.
The cherub not presuming to address so tremendous an object, transactedher supper through the agency of a third person, as 'Mutton to your Ma,Bella, my dear'; and 'Lavvy, I dare say your Ma would take some lettuceif you were to put it on her plate.' Mrs Wilfer's manner of receivingthose viands was marked by petrified absence of mind; in which state,likewise, she partook of them, occasionally laying down her knife andfork, as saying within her own spirit, 'What is this I am doing?' andglaring at one or other of the party, as if in indignant search ofinformation. A magnetic result of such glaring was, that the personglared at could not by any means successfully pretend to be ignorant ofthe fact: so that a bystander, without beholding Mrs Wilfer at all, musthave known at whom she was glaring, by seeing her refracted from thecountenance of the beglared one.
Miss Lavinia was extremely affable to Mr Sampson on this specialoccasion, and took the opportunity of informing her sister why.
'It was not worth troubling you about, Bella, when you were in a sphereso far removed from your family as to make it a matter in which youcould be expected to take very little interest,' said Lavinia with atoss of her chin; 'but George Sampson is paying his addresses to me.'
Bella was glad to hear it. Mr Sampson became thoughtfully red, andfelt called upon to encircle Miss Lavinia's waist with his arm; but,encountering a large pin in the young lady's belt, scarified a finger,uttered a sharp exclamation, and attracted the lightning of Mrs Wilfer'sglare.
'George is getting on very well,' said Miss Lavinia which might not havebeen supposed
at the moment--'and I dare say we shall be married, one ofthese days. I didn't care to mention it when you were with your Bof--'here Miss Lavinia checked herself in a bounce, and added more placidly,'when you were with Mr and Mrs Boffin; but now I think it sisterly toname the circumstance.'
'Thank you, Lavvy dear. I congratulate you.'
'Thank you, Bella. The truth is, George and I did discuss whetherI should tell you; but I said to George that you wouldn't be muchinterested in so paltry an affair, and that it was far more likely youwould rather detach yourself from us altogether, than have him added tothe rest of us.'
'That was a mistake, dear Lavvy,' said Bella.
'It turns out to be,' replied Miss Lavinia; 'but circumstances havechanged, you know, my dear. George is in a new situation, and hisprospects are very good indeed. I shouldn't have had the courage to tellyou so yesterday, when you would have thought his prospects poor, andnot worth notice; but I feel quite bold tonight.'
'When did you begin to feel timid, Lavvy?' inquired Bella, with a smile.
'I didn't say that I ever felt timid, Bella,' replied the Irrepressible.'But perhaps I might have said, if I had not been restrained by delicacytowards a sister's feelings, that I have for some time felt independent;too independent, my dear, to subject myself to have my intended match(you'll prick yourself again, George) looked down upon. It is not that Icould have blamed you for looking down upon it, when you were looking upto a rich and great match, Bella; it is only that I was independent.'
Whether the Irrepressible felt slighted by Bella's declaration that shewould not quarrel, or whether her spitefulness was evoked by Bella'sreturn to the sphere of Mr George Sampson's courtship, or whether it wasa necessary fillip to her spirits that she should come into collisionwith somebody on the present occasion,--anyhow she made a dash at herstately parent now, with the greatest impetuosity.
'Ma, pray don't sit staring at me in that intensely aggravating manner!If you see a black on my nose, tell me so; if you don't, leave mealone.'
'Do you address Me in those words?' said Mrs Wilfer. 'Do you presume?'
'Don't talk about presuming, Ma, for goodness' sake. A girl who is oldenough to be engaged, is quite old enough to object to be stared at asif she was a Clock.'
'Audacious one!' said Mrs Wilfer. 'Your grandmamma, if so addressed byone of her daughters, at any age, would have insisted on her retiring toa dark apartment.'
'My grandmamma,' returned Lavvy, folding her arms and leaning backin her chair, 'wouldn't have sat staring people out of countenance, Ithink.'
'She would!' said Mrs Wilfer.
'Then it's a pity she didn't know better,' said Lavvy. 'And if mygrandmamma wasn't in her dotage when she took to insisting on people'sretiring to dark apartments, she ought to have been. A pretty exhibitionmy grandmamma must have made of herself! I wonder whether she everinsisted on people's retiring into the ball of St Paul's; and if shedid, how she got them there!'
'Silence!' proclaimed Mrs Wilfer. 'I command silence!'
'I have not the slightest intention of being silent, Ma,' returnedLavinia coolly, 'but quite the contrary. I am not going to be eyed as ifI had come from the Boffins, and sit silent under it. I am not goingto have George Sampson eyed as if HE had come from the Boffins, and sitsilent under it. If Pa thinks proper to be eyed as if HE had come fromthe Boffins also, well and good. I don't choose to. And I won't!'
Lavinia's engineering having made this crooked opening at Bella, MrsWilfer strode into it.
'You rebellious spirit! You mutinous child! Tell me this, Lavinia. Ifin violation of your mother's sentiments, you had condescended to allowyourself to be patronized by the Boffins, and if you had come from thosehalls of slavery--'
'That's mere nonsense, Ma,' said Lavinia.
'How!' exclaimed Mrs Wilfer, with sublime severity.
'Halls of slavery, Ma, is mere stuff and nonsense,' returned the unmovedIrrepressible.
'I say, presumptuous child, if you had come from the neighbourhood ofPortland Place, bending under the yoke of patronage and attended by itsdomestics in glittering garb to visit me, do you think my deep-seatedfeelings could have been expressed in looks?'
'All I think about it, is,' returned Lavinia, 'that I should wish themexpressed to the right person.'
'And if,' pursued her mother, 'if making light of my warnings that theface of Mrs Boffin alone was a face teeming with evil, you had clung toMrs Boffin instead of to me, and had after all come home rejected by MrsBoffin, trampled under foot by Mrs Boffin, and cast out by Mrs Boffin,do you think my feelings could have been expressed in looks?'
Lavinia was about replying to her honoured parent that she might as wellhave dispensed with her looks altogether then, when Bella rose and said,'Good night, dear Ma. I have had a tiring day, and I'll go to bed.' Thisbroke up the agreeable party. Mr George Sampson shortly afterwards tookhis leave, accompanied by Miss Lavinia with a candle as far as the hall,and without a candle as far as the garden gate; Mrs Wilfer, washing herhands of the Boffins, went to bed after the manner of Lady Macbeth; andR. W. was left alone among the dilapidations of the supper table, in amelancholy attitude.
But, a light footstep roused him from his meditations, and it wasBella's. Her pretty hair was hanging all about her, and she had trippeddown softly, brush in hand, and barefoot, to say good-night to him.
'My dear, you most unquestionably ARE a lovely woman,' said the cherub,taking up a tress in his hand.
'Look here, sir,' said Bella; 'when your lovely woman marries, you shallhave that piece if you like, and she'll make you a chain of it. Wouldyou prize that remembrance of the dear creature?'
'Yes, my precious.'
'Then you shall have it if you're good, sir. I am very, very sorry,dearest Pa, to have brought home all this trouble.'
'My pet,' returned her father, in the simplest good faith, 'don't makeyourself uneasy about that. It really is not worth mentioning, becausethings at home would have taken pretty much the same turn any way. Ifyour mother and sister don't find one subject to get at times a littlewearing on, they find another. We're never out of a wearing subject,my dear, I assure you. I am afraid you find your old room with Lavvy,dreadfully inconvenient, Bella?'
'No I don't, Pa; I don't mind. Why don't I mind, do you think, Pa?'
'Well, my child, you used to complain of it when it wasn't such acontrast as it must be now. Upon my word, I can only answer, because youare so much improved.'
'No, Pa. Because I am so thankful and so happy!'
Here she choked him until her long hair made him sneeze, and then shelaughed until she made him laugh, and then she choked him again thatthey might not be overheard.
'Listen, sir,' said Bella. 'Your lovely woman was told her fortuneto night on her way home. It won't be a large fortune, because if thelovely woman's Intended gets a certain appointment that he hopes to getsoon, she will marry on a hundred and fifty pounds a year. But that's atfirst, and even if it should never be more, the lovely woman will makeit quite enough. But that's not all, sir. In the fortune there's acertain fair man--a little man, the fortune-teller said--who, it seems,will always find himself near the lovely woman, and will always havekept, expressly for him, such a peaceful corner in the lovely woman'slittle house as never was. Tell me the name of that man, sir.'
'Is he a Knave in the pack of cards?' inquired the cherub, with atwinkle in his eyes.
'Yes!' cried Bella, in high glee, choking him again. 'He's the Knave ofWilfers! Dear Pa, the lovely woman means to look forward to this fortunethat has been told for her, so delightfully, and to cause it to make hera much better lovely woman than she ever has been yet. What the littlefair man is expected to do, sir, is to look forward to it also, bysaying to himself when he is in danger of being over-worried, "I seeland at last!"
'I see land at last!' repeated her father.
'There's a dear Knave of Wilfers!' exclaimed Bella; then putting out hersmall white bare foot, 'That's the mark, sir. Come to the mark. Put yourboot ag
ainst it. We keep to it together, mind! Now, sir, you may kissthe lovely woman before she runs away, so thankful and so happy. O yes,fair little man, so thankful and so happy!'
Our Mutual Friend Page 49