Our Mutual Friend

Chapter 4

A HAPPY RETURN OF THE DAY

Mr and Mrs Wilfer had seen a full quarter of a hundred moreanniversaries of their wedding day than Mr and Mrs Lammle had seen oftheirs, but they still celebrated the occasion in the bosom oftheir family. Not that these celebrations ever resulted in anythingparticularly agreeable, or that the family was ever disappointed by thatcircumstance on account of having looked forward to the return of theauspicious day with sanguine anticipations of enjoyment. It was keptmorally, rather as a Fast than a Feast, enabling Mrs Wilfer to holda sombre darkling state, which exhibited that impressive woman in herchoicest colours.

The noble lady's condition on these delightful occasions was onecompounded of heroic endurance and heroic forgiveness. Lurid indicationsof the better marriages she might have made, shone athwart the awfulgloom of her composure, and fitfully revealed the cherub as a littlemonster unaccountably favoured by Heaven, who had possessed himself of ablessing for which many of his superiors had sued and contended in vain.So firmly had this his position towards his treasure become established,that when the anniversary arrived, it always found him in an apologeticstate. It is not impossible that his modest penitence may have even gonethe length of sometimes severely reproving him for that he ever took theliberty of making so exalted a character his wife.

As for the children of the union, their experience of these festivalshad been sufficiently uncomfortable to lead them annually to wish, whenout of their tenderest years, either that Ma had married somebody elseinstead of much-teased Pa, or that Pa had married somebody else insteadof Ma. When there came to be but two sisters left at home, the daringmind of Bella on the next of these occasions scaled the height ofwondering with droll vexation 'what on earth Pa ever could have seen inMa, to induce him to make such a little fool of himself as to ask her tohave him.'

The revolving year now bringing the day round in its orderly sequence,Bella arrived in the Boffin chariot to assist at the celebration. It wasthe family custom when the day recurred, to sacrifice a pair of fowlson the altar of Hymen; and Bella had sent a note beforehand, to intimatethat she would bring the votive offering with her. So, Bella and thefowls, by the united energies of two horses, two men, four wheels, and aplum-pudding carriage dog with as uncomfortable a collar on as if hehad been George the Fourth, were deposited at the door of the parentaldwelling. They were there received by Mrs Wilfer in person, whosedignity on this, as on most special occasions, was heightened by amysterious toothache.

'I shall not require the carriage at night,' said Bella. 'I shall walkback.'

The male domestic of Mrs Boffin touched his hat, and in the act ofdeparture had an awful glare bestowed upon him by Mrs Wilfer, intendedto carry deep into his audacious soul the assurance that, whatever hisprivate suspicions might be, male domestics in livery were no raritythere.

'Well, dear Ma,' said Bella, 'and how do you do?'

'I am as well, Bella,' replied Mrs Wilfer, 'as can be expected.'

'Dear me, Ma,' said Bella; 'you talk as if one was just born!'

'That's exactly what Ma has been doing,' interposed Lavvy, over thematernal shoulder, 'ever since we got up this morning. It's all verywell to laugh, Bella, but anything more exasperating it is impossible toconceive.'

Mrs Wilfer, with a look too full of majesty to be accompanied by anywords, attended both her daughters to the kitchen, where the sacrificewas to be prepared.

'Mr Rokesmith,' said she, resignedly, 'has been so polite as to placehis sitting-room at our disposal to-day. You will therefore, Bella, beentertained in the humble abode of your parents, so far in accordancewith your present style of living, that there will be a drawing-room foryour reception as well as a dining-room. Your papa invited Mr Rokesmithto partake of our lowly fare. In excusing himself on account of aparticular engagement, he offered the use of his apartment.'

Bella happened to know that he had no engagement out of his own room atMr Boffin's, but she approved of his staying away. 'We should only haveput one another out of countenance,' she thought, 'and we do that quiteoften enough as it is.'

Yet she had sufficient curiosity about his room, to run up to it withthe least possible delay, and make a close inspection of its contents.It was tastefully though economically furnished, and very neatlyarranged. There were shelves and stands of books, English, French, andItalian; and in a portfolio on the writing-table there were sheets uponsheets of memoranda and calculations in figures, evidently referring tothe Boffin property. On that table also, carefully backed with canvas,varnished, mounted, and rolled like a map, was the placard descriptiveof the murdered man who had come from afar to be her husband. She shrankfrom this ghostly surprise, and felt quite frightened as she rolled andtied it up again. Peeping about here and there, she came upon a print, agraceful head of a pretty woman, elegantly framed, hanging in the cornerby the easy chair. 'Oh, indeed, sir!' said Bella, after stopping toruminate before it. 'Oh, indeed, sir! I fancy I can guess whom youthink THAT'S like. But I'll tell you what it's much more like--yourimpudence!' Having said which she decamped: not solely because she wasoffended, but because there was nothing else to look at.

'Now, Ma,' said Bella, reappearing in the kitchen with some remains of ablush, 'you and Lavvy think magnificent me fit for nothing, but I intendto prove the contrary. I mean to be Cook today.'

'Hold!' rejoined her majestic mother. 'I cannot permit it. Cook, in thatdress!'

'As for my dress, Ma,' returned Bella, merrily searching in adresser-drawer, 'I mean to apron it and towel it all over the front; andas to permission, I mean to do without.'

'YOU cook?' said Mrs Wilfer. 'YOU, who never cooked when you were athome?'

'Yes, Ma,' returned Bella; 'that is precisely the state of the case.'

She girded herself with a white apron, and busily with knots and pinscontrived a bib to it, coming close and tight under her chin, as if ithad caught her round the neck to kiss her. Over this bib her dimpleslooked delightful, and under it her pretty figure not less so. 'Now,Ma,' said Bella, pushing back her hair from her temples with both hands,'what's first?'

'First,' returned Mrs Wilfer solemnly, 'if you persist in what I cannotbut regard as conduct utterly incompatible with the equipage in whichyou arrived--'

('Which I do, Ma.')

'First, then, you put the fowls down to the fire.'

'To--be--sure!' cried Bella; 'and flour them, and twirl them round, andthere they go!' sending them spinning at a great rate. 'What's next,Ma?'

'Next,' said Mrs Wilfer with a wave of her gloves, expressive ofabdication under protest from the culinary throne, 'I would recommendexamination of the bacon in the saucepan on the fire, and also of thepotatoes by the application of a fork. Preparation of the greens willfurther become necessary if you persist in this unseemly demeanour.'

'As of course I do, Ma.'

Persisting, Bella gave her attention to one thing and forgot theother, and gave her attention to the other and forgot the third, andremembering the third was distracted by the fourth, and made amendswhenever she went wrong by giving the unfortunate fowls an extra spin,which made their chance of ever getting cooked exceedingly doubtful. Butit was pleasant cookery too. Meantime Miss Lavinia, oscillating betweenthe kitchen and the opposite room, prepared the dining-table in thelatter chamber. This office she (always doing her household spiritingwith unwillingness) performed in a startling series of whisks and bumps;laying the table-cloth as if she were raising the wind, putting downthe glasses and salt-cellars as if she were knocking at the door, andclashing the knives and forks in a skirmishing manner suggestive ofhand-to-hand conflict.

'Look at Ma,' whispered Lavinia to Bella when this was done, and theystood over the roasting fowls. 'If one was the most dutiful child inexistence (of course on the whole one hopes one is), isn't she enoughto make one want to poke her with something wooden, sitting there boltupright in a corner?'

'Only suppose,' returned Bella, 'that poor Pa was to sit bolt upright inanother corner.'

'My dear, he couldn't do it,' said Lavvy. 'Pa would loll directly. Butindeed I do not believe there ever was any human creature who could keepso bolt upright as Ma, 'or put such an amount of aggravation into oneback! What's the matter, Ma? Ain't you well, Ma?'

'Doubtless I am very well,' returned Mrs Wilfer, turning her eyes uponher youngest born, with scornful fortitude. 'What should be the matterwith Me?'

'You don't seem very brisk, Ma,' retorted Lavvy the bold.

'Brisk?' repeated her parent, 'Brisk? Whence the low expression,Lavinia? If I am uncomplaining, if I am silently contented with my lot,let that suffice for my family.'

'Well, Ma,' returned Lavvy, 'since you will force it out of me, I mustrespectfully take leave to say that your family are no doubt underthe greatest obligations to you for having an annual toothache on yourwedding day, and that it's very disinterested in you, and an immenseblessing to them. Still, on the whole, it is possible to be too boastfuleven of that boon.'

'You incarnation of sauciness,' said Mrs Wilfer, 'do you speak like thatto me? On this day, of all days in the year? Pray do you know whatwould have become of you, if I had not bestowed my hand upon R. W., yourfather, on this day?'

'No, Ma,' replied Lavvy, 'I really do not; and, with the greatestrespect for your abilities and information, I very much doubt if you doeither.'

Whether or no the sharp vigour of this sally on a weak point of MrsWilfer's entrenchments might have routed that heroine for the time, isrendered uncertain by the arrival of a flag of truce in the person ofMr George Sampson: bidden to the feast as a friend of the family, whoseaffections were now understood to be in course of transference fromBella to Lavinia, and whom Lavinia kept--possibly in remembrance of hisbad taste in having overlooked her in the first instance--under a courseof stinging discipline.

'I congratulate you, Mrs Wilfer,' said Mr George Sampson, who hadmeditated this neat address while coming along, 'on the day.' Mrs Wilferthanked him with a magnanimous sigh, and again became an unresistingprey to that inscrutable toothache.

'I am surprised,' said Mr Sampson feebly, 'that Miss Bella condescendsto cook.'

Here Miss Lavinia descended on the ill-starred young gentleman with acrushing supposition that at all events it was no business of his. Thisdisposed of Mr Sampson in a melancholy retirement of spirit, until thecherub arrived, whose amazement at the lovely woman's occupation wasgreat.

However, she persisted in dishing the dinner as well as cooking it, andthen sat down, bibless and apronless, to partake of it as an illustriousguest: Mrs Wilfer first responding to her husband's cheerful 'For whatwe are about to receive--' with a sepulchral Amen, calculated to cast adamp upon the stoutest appetite.

'But what,' said Bella, as she watched the carving of the fowls, 'makesthem pink inside, I wonder, Pa! Is it the breed?'

'No, I don't think it's the breed, my dear,' returned Pa. 'I ratherthink it is because they are not done.'

'They ought to be,' said Bella.

'Yes, I am aware they ought to be, my dear,' rejoined her father, 'butthey--ain't.'

So, the gridiron was put in requisition, and the good-tempered cherub,who was often as un-cherubically employed in his own family as if he hadbeen in the employment of some of the Old Masters, undertook to grillthe fowls. Indeed, except in respect of staring about him (a branch ofthe public service to which the pictorial cherub is much addicted), thisdomestic cherub discharged as many odd functions as his prototype; withthe difference, say, that he performed with a blacking-brush on thefamily's boots, instead of performing on enormous wind instruments anddouble-basses, and that he conducted himself with cheerful alacrity tomuch useful purpose, instead of foreshortening himself in the air withthe vaguest intentions.

Bella helped him with his supplemental cookery, and made him very happy,but put him in mortal terror too by asking him when they sat down attable again, how he supposed they cooked fowls at the Greenwich dinners,and whether he believed they really were such pleasant dinners as peoplesaid? His secret winks and nods of remonstrance, in reply, made themischievous Bella laugh until she choked, and then Lavinia was obligedto slap her on the back, and then she laughed the more.

But her mother was a fine corrective at the other end of the table; towhom her father, in the innocence of his good-fellowship, at intervalsappealed with: 'My dear, I am afraid you are not enjoying yourself?'

'Why so, R. W.?' she would sonorously reply.

'Because, my dear, you seem a little out of sorts.'

'Not at all,' would be the rejoinder, in exactly the same tone.

'Would you take a merry-thought, my dear?'

'Thank you. I will take whatever you please, R. W.'

'Well, but my dear, do you like it?'

'I like it as well as I like anything, R. W.' The stately woman wouldthen, with a meritorious appearance of devoting herself to the generalgood, pursue her dinner as if she were feeding somebody else on highpublic grounds.

Bella had brought dessert and two bottles of wine, thus sheddingunprecedented splendour on the occasion. Mrs Wilfer did the honours ofthe first glass by proclaiming: 'R. W. I drink to you.

'Thank you, my dear. And I to you.'

'Pa and Ma!' said Bella.

'Permit me,' Mrs Wilfer interposed, with outstretched glove. 'No. Ithink not. I drank to your papa. If, however, you insist on includingme, I can in gratitude offer no objection.'

'Why, Lor, Ma,' interposed Lavvy the bold, 'isn't it the day that madeyou and Pa one and the same? I have no patience!'

'By whatever other circumstance the day may be marked, it is not theday, Lavinia, on which I will allow a child of mine to pounce upon me.I beg--nay, command!--that you will not pounce. R. W., it is appropriateto recall that it is for you to command and for me to obey. It is yourhouse, and you are master at your own table. Both our healths!' Drinkingthe toast with tremendous stiffness.

'I really am a little afraid, my dear,' hinted the cherub meekly, 'thatyou are not enjoying yourself?'

'On the contrary,' returned Mrs Wilfer, 'quite so. Why should I not?'

'I thought, my dear, that perhaps your face might--'

'My face might be a martyrdom, but what would that import, or who shouldknow it, if I smiled?'

And she did smile; manifestly freezing the blood of Mr George Sampsonby so doing. For that young gentleman, catching her smiling eye, was sovery much appalled by its expression as to cast about in his thoughtsconcerning what he had done to bring it down upon himself.

'The mind naturally falls,' said Mrs Wilfer, 'shall I say into areverie, or shall I say into a retrospect? on a day like this.'

Lavvy, sitting with defiantly folded arms, replied (but not audibly),'For goodness' sake say whichever of the two you like best, Ma, and getit over.'

'The mind,' pursued Mrs Wilfer in an oratorical manner, 'naturallyreverts to Papa and Mamma--I here allude to my parents--at a periodbefore the earliest dawn of this day. I was considered tall; perhaps Iwas. Papa and Mamma were unquestionably tall. I have rarely seen a finerwomen than my mother; never than my father.'

The irrepressible Lavvy remarked aloud, 'Whatever grandpapa was, hewasn't a female.'

'Your grandpapa,' retorted Mrs Wilfer, with an awful look, and in anawful tone, 'was what I describe him to have been, and would have struckany of his grandchildren to the earth who presumed to question it. Itwas one of mamma's cherished hopes that I should become united to atall member of society. It may have been a weakness, but if so, it wasequally the weakness, I believe, of King Frederick of Prussia.' Theseremarks being offered to Mr George Sampson, who had not the courage tocome out for single combat, but lurked with his chest under the tableand his eyes cast down, Mrs Wilfer proceeded, in a voice of increasingsternness and impressiveness, until she should force that skulkerto give himself up. 'Mamma would appear to have had an indefinableforeboding of what afterwards happened, for she would frequently urgeupon me, ”Not a little man. Promise me, my child, not a little man.Never, never, never, marry a little man!” Papa also would remark to me(he possessed extraordinary humour), ”that a family of whales must notally themselves with sprats.” His company was eagerly sought, as maybe supposed, by the wits of the day, and our house was their continualresort. I have known as many as three copper-plate engravers exchangingthe most exquisite sallies and retorts there, at one time.' (Here MrSampson delivered himself captive, and said, with an uneasy movement onhis chair, that three was a large number, and it must have been highlyentertaining.) 'Among the most prominent members of that distinguishedcircle, was a gentleman measuring six feet four in height. HE was NOTan engraver.' (Here Mr Sampson said, with no reason whatever, Of coursenot.) 'This gentleman was so obliging as to honour me with attentionswhich I could not fail to understand.' (Here Mr Sampson murmured thatwhen it came to that, you could always tell.) 'I immediately announcedto both my parents that those attentions were misplaced, and that Icould not favour his suit. They inquired was he too tall? I replied itwas not the stature, but the intellect was too lofty. At our house,I said, the tone was too brilliant, the pressure was too high, to bemaintained by me, a mere woman, in every-day domestic life. I wellremember mamma's clasping her hands, and exclaiming ”This will end ina little man!”' (Here Mr Sampson glanced at his host and shook his headwith despondency.) 'She afterwards went so far as to predict that itwould end in a little man whose mind would be below the average, butthat was in what I may denominate a paroxysm of maternal disappointment.Within a month,' said Mrs Wilfer, deepening her voice, as if she wererelating a terrible ghost story, 'within a-month, I first saw R. W. myhusband. Within a year, I married him. It is natural for the mind torecall these dark coincidences on the present day.'

Mr Sampson at length released from the custody of Mrs Wilfer's eye, nowdrew a long breath, and made the original and striking remark that therewas no accounting for these sort of presentiments. R. W. scratched hishead and looked apologetically all round the table until he came to hiswife, when observing her as it were shrouded in a more sombre veil thanbefore, he once more hinted, 'My dear, I am really afraid you are notaltogether enjoying yourself?' To which she once more replied, 'On thecontrary, R. W. Quite so.'

The wretched Mr Sampson's position at this agreeable entertainmentwas truly pitiable. For, not only was he exposed defenceless to theharangues of Mrs Wilfer, but he received the utmost contumely at thehands of Lavinia; who, partly to show Bella that she (Lavinia) could dowhat she liked with him, and partly to pay him off for still obviouslyadmiring Bella's beauty, led him the life of a dog. Illuminated on theone hand by the stately graces of Mrs Wilfer's oratory, and shadowedon the other by the checks and frowns of the young lady to whom hehad devoted himself in his destitution, the sufferings of this younggentleman were distressing to witness. If his mind for the moment reeledunder them, it may be urged, in extenuation of its weakness, that itwas constitutionally a knock-knee'd mind and never very strong upon itslegs.

The rosy hours were thus beguiled until it was time for Bella to havePa's escort back. The dimples duly tied up in the bonnet-strings and theleave-taking done, they got out into the air, and the cherub drew a longbreath as if he found it refreshing.

'Well, dear Pa,' said Bella, 'the anniversary may be considered over.'

'Yes, my dear,' returned the cherub, 'there's another of 'em gone.'

Bella drew his arm closer through hers as they walked along, and gave ita number of consolatory pats. 'Thank you, my dear,' he said, as ifshe had spoken; 'I am all right, my dear. Well, and how do you get on,Bella?'

'I am not at all improved, Pa.'

'Ain't you really though?'

'No, Pa. On the contrary, I am worse.'

'Lor!' said the cherub.

'I am worse, Pa. I make so many calculations how much a year I must havewhen I marry, and what is the least I can manage to do with, that I ambeginning to get wrinkles over my nose. Did you notice any wrinkles overmy nose this evening, Pa?'

Pa laughing at this, Bella gave him two or three shakes.

'You won't laugh, sir, when you see your lovely woman turning haggard.You had better be prepared in time, I can tell you. I shall not be ableto keep my greediness for money out of my eyes long, and when you see itthere you'll be sorry, and serve you right for not being warned in time.Now, sir, we entered into a bond of confidence. Have you anything toimpart?'

'I thought it was you who was to impart, my love.'

'Oh! did you indeed, sir? Then why didn't you ask me, the moment we cameout? The confidences of lovely women are not to be slighted. However, Iforgive you this once, and look here, Pa; that's'--Bella laid thelittle forefinger of her right glove on her lip, and then laid it on herfather's lip--'that's a kiss for you. And now I am going seriouslyto tell you--let me see how many--four secrets. Mind! Serious, grave,weighty secrets. Strictly between ourselves.'

'Number one, my dear?' said her father, settling her arm comfortably andconfidentially.

'Number one,' said Bella, 'will electrify you, Pa. Who do you thinkhas'--she was confused here in spite of her merry way of beginning 'hasmade an offer to me?'

Pa looked in her face, and looked at the ground, and looked in her faceagain, and declared he could never guess.

'Mr Rokesmith.'

'You don't tell me so, my dear!'

'Mis--ter Roke--smith, Pa,' said Bella separating the syllables foremphasis. 'What do you say to THAT?'

Pa answered quietly with the counter-question, 'What did YOU say tothat, my love?'

'I said No,' returned Bella sharply. 'Of course.'

'Yes. Of course,' said her father, meditating.

'And I told him why I thought it a betrayal of trust on his part, and anaffront to me,' said Bella.

'Yes. To be sure. I am astonished indeed. I wonder he committed himselfwithout seeing more of his way first. Now I think of it, I suspect healways has admired you though, my dear.'

'A hackney coachman may admire me,' remarked Bella, with a touch of hermother's loftiness.

'It's highly probable, my love. Number two, my dear?'

'Number two, Pa, is much to the same purpose, though not sopreposterous. Mr Lightwood would propose to me, if I would let him.'

'Then I understand, my dear, that you don't intend to let him?'

Bella again saying, with her former emphasis, 'Why, of course not!' herfather felt himself bound to echo, 'Of course not.'

'I don't care for him,' said Bella.

'That's enough,' her father interposed.

'No, Pa, it's NOT enough,' rejoined Bella, giving him another shake ortwo. 'Haven't I told you what a mercenary little wretch I am? Itonly becomes enough when he has no money, and no clients, and noexpectations, and no anything but debts.'

'Hah!' said the cherub, a little depressed. 'Number three, my dear?'

'Number three, Pa, is a better thing. A generous thing, a noble thing, adelightful thing. Mrs Boffin has herself told me, as a secret, with herown kind lips--and truer lips never opened or closed in this life, I amsure--that they wish to see me well married; and that when I marry withtheir consent they will portion me most handsomely.' Here the gratefulgirl burst out crying very heartily.

'Don't cry, my darling,' said her father, with his hand to his eyes;'it's excusable in me to be a little overcome when I find that my dearfavourite child is, after all disappointments, to be so provided forand so raised in the world; but don't YOU cry, don't YOU cry. I am verythankful. I congratulate you with all my heart, my dear.' The good softlittle fellow, drying his eyes, here, Bella put her arms round his neckand tenderly kissed him on the high road, passionately telling himhe was the best of fathers and the best of friends, and that on herwedding-morning she would go down on her knees to him and beg his pardonfor having ever teased him or seemed insensible to the worth of sucha patient, sympathetic, genial, fresh young heart. At every one of heradjectives she redoubled her kisses, and finally kissed his hat off, andthen laughed immoderately when the wind took it and he ran after it.

When he had recovered his hat and his breath, and they were going onagain once more, said her father then: 'Number four, my dear?'

Bella's countenance fell in the midst of her mirth. 'After all, perhapsI had better put off number four, Pa. Let me try once more, if for neverso short a time, to hope that it may not really be so.'

The change in her, strengthened the cherub's interest in number four,and he said quietly: 'May not be so, my dear? May not be how, my dear?'

Bella looked at him pensively, and shook her head.

'And yet I know right well it is so, Pa. I know it only too well.'

'My love,' returned her father, 'you make me quite uncomfortable. Haveyou said No to anybody else, my dear?'

'No, Pa.'

'Yes to anybody?' he suggested, lifting up his eyebrows.

'No, Pa.'

'Is there anybody else who would take his chance between Yes and No, ifyou would let him, my dear?'

'Not that I know of, Pa.'

'There can't be somebody who won't take his chance when you want himto?' said the cherub, as a last resource.

'Why, of course not, Pa,' said Bella, giving him another shake or two.

'No, of course not,' he assented. 'Bella, my dear, I am afraid I musteither have no sleep to-night, or I must press for number four.'

'Oh, Pa, there is no good in number four! I am so sorry for it, I am sounwilling to believe it, I have tried so earnestly not to see it, thatit is very hard to tell, even to you. But Mr Boffin is being spoilt byprosperity, and is changing every day.'

'My dear Bella, I hope and trust not.'

'I have hoped and trusted not too, Pa; but every day he changes forthe worse, and for the worse. Not to me--he is always much the sameto me--but to others about him. Before my eyes he grows suspicious,capricious, hard, tyrannical, unjust. If ever a good man were ruined bygood fortune, it is my benefactor. And yet, Pa, think how terrible thefascination of money is! I see this, and hate this, and dread this, anddon't know but that money might make a much worse change in me. And yetI have money always in my thoughts and my desires; and the whole life Iplace before myself is money, money, money, and what money can make oflife!'