Chapter 5
THE GOLDEN DUSTMAN FALLS INTO BAD COMPANY
Were Bella Wilfer's bright and ready little wits at fault, or was theGolden Dustman passing through the furnace of proof and coming outdross? Ill news travels fast. We shall know full soon.
On that very night of her return from the Happy Return, somethingchanced which Bella closely followed with her eyes and ears. There wasan apartment at the side of the Boffin mansion, known as Mr Boffin'sroom. Far less grand than the rest of the house, it was far morecomfortable, being pervaded by a certain air of homely snugness, whichupholstering despotism had banished to that spot when it inexorably setits face against Mr Boffin's appeals for mercy in behalf of any otherchamber. Thus, although a room of modest situation--for its windows gaveon Silas Wegg's old corner--and of no pretensions to velvet, satin, orgilding, it had got itself established in a domestic position analogousto that of an easy dressing-gown or pair of slippers; and whenever thefamily wanted to enjoy a particularly pleasant fireside evening, theyenjoyed it, as an institution that must be, in Mr Boffin's room.
Mr and Mrs Boffin were reported sitting in this room, when Bella gotback. Entering it, she found the Secretary there too; in officialattendance it would appear, for he was standing with some papers in hishand by a table with shaded candles on it, at which Mr Boffin was seatedthrown back in his easy chair.
'You are busy, sir,' said Bella, hesitating at the door.
'Not at all, my dear, not at all. You're one of ourselves. We nevermake company of you. Come in, come in. Here's the old lady in her usualplace.'
Mrs Boffin adding her nod and smile of welcome to Mr Boffin's words,Bella took her book to a chair in the fireside corner, by Mrs Boffin'swork-table. Mr Boffin's station was on the opposite side.
'Now, Rokesmith,' said the Golden Dustman, so sharply rapping the tableto bespeak his attention as Bella turned the leaves of her book, thatshe started; 'where were we?'
'You were saying, sir,' returned the Secretary, with an air of somereluctance and a glance towards those others who were present, 'that youconsidered the time had come for fixing my salary.'
'Don't be above calling it wages, man,' said Mr Boffin, testily. 'Whatthe deuce! I never talked of any salary when I was in service.'
'My wages,' said the Secretary, correcting himself.
'Rokesmith, you are not proud, I hope?' observed Mr Boffin, eyeing himaskance.
'I hope not, sir.'
'Because I never was, when I was poor,' said Mr Boffin. 'Poverty andpride don't go at all well together. Mind that. How can they go welltogether? Why it stands to reason. A man, being poor, has nothing to beproud of. It's nonsense.'
With a slight inclination of his head, and a look of some surprise,the Secretary seemed to assent by forming the syllables of the word'nonsense' on his lips.
'Now, concerning these same wages,' said Mr Boffin. 'Sit down.'
The Secretary sat down.
'Why didn't you sit down before?' asked Mr Boffin, distrustfully. 'Ihope that wasn't pride? But about these wages. Now, I've gone into thematter, and I say two hundred a year. What do you think of it? Do youthink it's enough?'
'Thank you. It is a fair proposal.'
'I don't say, you know,' Mr Boffin stipulated, 'but what it may be morethan enough. And I'll tell you why, Rokesmith. A man of property, likeme, is bound to consider the market-price. At first I didn't enter intothat as much as I might have done; but I've got acquainted with othermen of property since, and I've got acquainted with the duties ofproperty. I mustn't go putting the market-price up, because money mayhappen not to be an object with me. A sheep is worth so much in themarket, and I ought to give it and no more. A secretary is worth so muchin the market, and I ought to give it and no more. However, I don't mindstretching a point with you.'
'Mr Boffin, you are very good,' replied the Secretary, with an effort.
'Then we put the figure,' said Mr Boffin, 'at two hundred a year.Then the figure's disposed of. Now, there must be no misunderstandingregarding what I buy for two hundred a year. If I pay for a sheep, I buyit out and out. Similarly, if I pay for a secretary, I buy HIM out andout.'
'In other words, you purchase my whole time?'
'Certainly I do. Look here,' said Mr Boffin, 'it ain't that I want tooccupy your whole time; you can take up a book for a minute or two whenyou've nothing better to do, though I think you'll a'most always findsomething useful to do. But I want to keep you in attendance. It'sconvenient to have you at all times ready on the premises. Therefore,betwixt your breakfast and your supper,--on the premises I expect tofind you.'
The Secretary bowed.
'In bygone days, when I was in service myself,' said Mr Boffin, 'Icouldn't go cutting about at my will and pleasure, and you won't expectto go cutting about at your will and pleasure. You've rather got intoa habit of that, lately; but perhaps it was for want of a rightspecification betwixt us. Now, let there be a right specificationbetwixt us, and let it be this. If you want leave, ask for it.'
Again the Secretary bowed. His manner was uneasy and astonished, andshowed a sense of humiliation.
'I'll have a bell,' said Mr Boffin, 'hung from this room to yours,and when I want you, I'll touch it. I don't call to mind that I haveanything more to say at the present moment.'
The Secretary rose, gathered up his papers, and withdrew. Bella's eyesfollowed him to the door, lighted on Mr Boffin complacently thrown backin his easy chair, and drooped over her book.
'I have let that chap, that young man of mine,' said Mr Boffin, taking atrot up and down the room, 'get above his work. It won't do. I must havehim down a peg. A man of property owes a duty to other men of property,and must look sharp after his inferiors.'
Bella felt that Mrs Boffin was not comfortable, and that the eyes ofthat good creature sought to discover from her face what attention shehad given to this discourse, and what impression it had made upon her.For which reason Bella's eyes drooped more engrossedly over her book,and she turned the page with an air of profound absorption in it.
'Noddy,' said Mrs Boffin, after thoughtfully pausing in her work.
'My dear,' returned the Golden Dustman, stopping short in his trot.
'Excuse my putting it to you, Noddy, but now really! Haven't you beena little strict with Mr Rokesmith to-night? Haven't you been alittle--just a little little--not quite like your old self?'
'Why, old woman, I hope so,' returned Mr Boffin, cheerfully, if notboastfully.
'Hope so, deary?'
'Our old selves wouldn't do here, old lady. Haven't you found that outyet? Our old selves would be fit for nothing here but to be robbed andimposed upon. Our old selves weren't people of fortune; our new selvesare; it's a great difference.'
'Ah!' said Mrs Boffin, pausing in her work again, softly to draw a longbreath and to look at the fire. 'A great difference.'
'And we must be up to the difference,' pursued her husband; 'we must beequal to the change; that's what we must be. We've got to hold our ownnow, against everybody (for everybody's hand is stretched out to bedipped into our pockets), and we have got to recollect that money makesmoney, as well as makes everything else.'
'Mentioning recollecting,' said Mrs Boffin, with her work abandoned,her eyes upon the fire, and her chin upon her hand, 'do you recollect,Noddy, how you said to Mr Rokesmith when he first came to see us at theBower, and you engaged him--how you said to him that if it had pleasedHeaven to send John Harmon to his fortune safe, we could have beencontent with the one Mound which was our legacy, and should never havewanted the rest?'
'Ay, I remember, old lady. But we hadn't tried what it was to have therest then. Our new shoes had come home, but we hadn't put 'em on. We'rewearing 'em now, we're wearing 'em, and must step out accordingly.'
Mrs Boffin took up her work again, and plied her needle in silence.
'As to Rokesmith, that young man of mine,' said Mr Boffin, droppinghis voice and glancing towards the door with an apprehension of beingoverheard by som
e eavesdropper there, 'it's the same with him as withthe footmen. I have found out that you must either scrunch them, or letthem scrunch you. If you ain't imperious with 'em, they won't believein your being any better than themselves, if as good, after the stories(lies mostly) that they have heard of your beginnings. There's nothingbetwixt stiffening yourself up, and throwing yourself away; take my wordfor that, old lady.'
Bella ventured for a moment to look stealthily towards him under hereyelashes, and she saw a dark cloud of suspicion, covetousness, andconceit, overshadowing the once open face.
'Hows'ever,' said he, 'this isn't entertaining to Miss Bella. Is it,Bella?'
A deceiving Bella she was, to look at him with that pensively abstractedair, as if her mind were full of her book, and she had not heard asingle word!
'Hah! Better employed than to attend to it,' said Mr Boffin. 'That'sright, that's right. Especially as you have no call to be told how tovalue yourself, my dear.'
Colouring a little under this compliment, Bella returned, 'I hope sir,you don't think me vain?'
'Not a bit, my dear,' said Mr Boffin. 'But I think it's very creditablein you, at your age, to be so well up with the pace of the world, and toknow what to go in for. You are right. Go in for money, my love. Money'sthe article. You'll make money of your good looks, and of the money MrsBoffin and me will have the pleasure of settling upon you, and you'lllive and die rich. That's the state to live and die in!' said Mr Boffin,in an unctuous manner. R--r--rich!'
There was an expression of distress in Mrs Boffin's face, as, afterwatching her husband's, she turned to their adopted girl, and said:
'Don't mind him, Bella, my dear.'
'Eh?' cried Mr Boffin. 'What! Not mind him?'
'I don't mean that,' said Mrs Boffin, with a worried look, 'but I mean,don't believe him to be anything but good and generous, Bella, becausehe is the best of men. No, I must say that much, Noddy. You are alwaysthe best of men.'
She made the declaration as if he were objecting to it: which assuredlyhe was not in any way.
'And as to you, my dear Bella,' said Mrs Boffin, still with thatdistressed expression, 'he is so much attached to you, whatever he says,that your own father has not a truer interest in you and can hardly likeyou better than he does.'
'Says too!' cried Mr Boffin. 'Whatever he says! Why, I say so, openly.Give me a kiss, my dear child, in saying Good Night, and let me confirmwhat my old lady tells you. I am very fond of you, my dear, and I amentirely of your mind, and you and I will take care that you shall berich. These good looks of yours (which you have some right to be vainof; my dear, though you are not, you know) are worth money, and youshall make money of 'em. The money you will have, will be worth money,and you shall make money of that too. There's a golden ball at yourfeet. Good night, my dear.'
Somehow, Bella was not so well pleased with this assurance and thisprospect as she might have been. Somehow, when she put her armsround Mrs Boffin's neck and said Good Night, she derived a sense ofunworthiness from the still anxious face of that good woman and herobvious wish to excuse her husband. 'Why, what need to excuse him?'thought Bella, sitting down in her own room. 'What he said was verysensible, I am sure, and very true, I am sure. It is only what I oftensay to myself. Don't I like it then? No, I don't like it, and, thoughhe is my liberal benefactor, I disparage him for it. Then pray,' saidBella, sternly putting the question to herself in the looking-glass asusual, 'what do you mean by this, you inconsistent little Beast?'
The looking-glass preserving a discreet ministerial silence when thuscalled upon for explanation, Bella went to bed with a weariness upon herspirit which was more than the weariness of want of sleep. And againin the morning, she looked for the cloud, and for the deepening of thecloud, upon the Golden Dustman's face.
She had begun by this time to be his frequent companion in his morningstrolls about the streets, and it was at this time that he made her aparty to his engaging in a curious pursuit. Having been hard at work inone dull enclosure all his life, he had a child's delight in lookingat shops. It had been one of the first novelties and pleasures of hisfreedom, and was equally the delight of his wife. For many years theironly walks in London had been taken on Sundays when the shops were shut;and when every day in the week became their holiday, they derived anenjoyment from the variety and fancy and beauty of the display in thewindows, which seemed incapable of exhaustion. As if the principalstreets were a great Theatre and the play were childishly new to them,Mr and Mrs Boffin, from the beginning of Bella's intimacy in theirhouse, had been constantly in the front row, charmed with all they sawand applauding vigorously. But now, Mr Boffin's interest began to centrein book-shops; and more than that--for that of itself would not havebeen much--in one exceptional kind of book.
'Look in here, my dear,' Mr Boffin would say, checking Bella's arm at abookseller's window; 'you can read at sight, and your eyes are as sharpas they're bright. Now, look well about you, my dear, and tell me if yousee any book about a Miser.'
If Bella saw such a book, Mr Boffin would instantly dart in and buyit. And still, as if they had not found it, they would seek out anotherbook-shop, and Mr Boffin would say, 'Now, look well all round, mydear, for a Life of a Miser, or any book of that sort; any Lives of oddcharacters who may have been Misers.'
Bella, thus directed, would examine the window with the greatestattention, while Mr Boffin would examine her face. The moment shepointed out any book as being entitled Lives of eccentric personages,Anecdotes of strange characters, Records of remarkable individuals, oranything to that purpose, Mr Boffin's countenance would light up, andhe would instantly dart in and buy it. Size, price, quality, were of noaccount. Any book that seemed to promise a chance of miserly biography,Mr Boffin purchased without a moment's delay and carried home. Happeningto be informed by a bookseller that a portion of the Annual Register wasdevoted to 'Characters', Mr Boffin at once bought a whole set of thatingenious compilation, and began to carry it home piecemeal, confidinga volume to Bella, and bearing three himself. The completion of thislabour occupied them about a fortnight. When the task was done, MrBoffin, with his appetite for Misers whetted instead of satiated, beganto look out again.
It very soon became unnecessary to tell Bella what to look for, and anunderstanding was established between her and Mr Boffin that she wasalways to look for Lives of Misers. Morning after morning they roamedabout the town together, pursuing this singular research. Miserlyliterature not being abundant, the proportion of failures to successesmay have been as a hundred to one; still Mr Boffin, never wearied,remained as avaricious for misers as he had been at the first onset. Itwas curious that Bella never saw the books about the house, nor did sheever hear from Mr Boffin one word of reference to their contents. Heseemed to save up his Misers as they had saved up their money. As theyhad been greedy for it, and secret about it, and had hidden it, so hewas greedy for them, and secret about them, and hid them. But beyond alldoubt it was to be noticed, and was by Bella very clearly noticed, that,as he pursued the acquisition of those dismal records with the ardour ofDon Quixote for his books of chivalry, he began to spend his money witha more sparing hand. And often when he came out of a shop with some newaccount of one of those wretched lunatics, she would almost shrink fromthe sly dry chuckle with which he would take her arm again and trotaway. It did not appear that Mrs Boffin knew of this taste. He madeno allusion to it, except in the morning walks when he and Bella werealways alone; and Bella, partly under the impression that he took herinto his confidence by implication, and partly in remembrance of MrsBoffin's anxious face that night, held the same reserve.
While these occurrences were in progress, Mrs Lammle made the discoverythat Bella had a fascinating influence over her. The Lammles, originallypresented by the dear Veneerings, visited the Boffins on all grandoccasions, and Mrs Lammle had not previously found this out; but now theknowledge came upon her all at once. It was a most extraordinary thing(she said to Mrs Boffin); she was foolishly susceptible of the power ofbeauty, b
ut it wasn't altogether that; she never had been able to resista natural grace of manner, but it wasn't altogether that; it was morethan that, and there was no name for the indescribable extent and degreeto which she was captivated by this charming girl.
This charming girl having the words repeated to her by Mrs Boffin (whowas proud of her being admired, and would have done anything to give herpleasure), naturally recognized in Mrs Lammle a woman of penetrationand taste. Responding to the sentiments, by being very gracious to MrsLammle, she gave that lady the means of so improving her opportunity,as that the captivation became reciprocal, though always wearing anappearance of greater sobriety on Bella's part than on the enthusiasticSophronia's. Howbeit, they were so much together that, for a time, theBoffin chariot held Mrs Lammle oftener than Mrs Boffin: a preferenceof which the latter worthy soul was not in the least jealous, placidlyremarking, 'Mrs Lammle is a younger companion for her than I am, andLor! she's more fashionable.'
But between Bella Wilfer and Georgiana Podsnap there was this onedifference, among many others, that Bella was in no danger of beingcaptivated by Alfred. She distrusted and disliked him. Indeed, herperception was so quick, and her observation so sharp, that after allshe mistrusted his wife too, though with her giddy vanity and wilfulnessshe squeezed the mistrust away into a corner of her mind, and blocked itup there.
Mrs Lammle took the friendliest interest in Bella's making a good match.Mrs Lammle said, in a sportive way, she really must show her beautifulBella what kind of wealthy creatures she and Alfred had on hand, whowould as one man fall at her feet enslaved. Fitting occasion made,Mrs Lammle accordingly produced the most passable of those feverish,boastful, and indefinably loose gentlemen who were always lounging inand out of the City on questions of the Bourse and Greek and Spanish andIndia and Mexican and par and premium and discount and three-quartersand seven-eighths. Who in their agreeable manner did homage to Bellaas if she were a compound of fine girl, thorough-bred horse, well-builtdrag, and remarkable pipe. But without the least effect, though even MrFledgeby's attractions were cast into the scale.
'I fear, Bella dear,' said Mrs Lammle one day in the chariot, 'that youwill be very hard to please.'
'I don't expect to be pleased, dear,' said Bella, with a languid turn ofher eyes.
'Truly, my love,' returned Sophronia, shaking her head, and smilingher best smile, 'it would not be very easy to find a man worthy of yourattractions.'
'The question is not a man, my dear,' said Bella, coolly, 'but anestablishment.'
'My love,' returned Mrs Lammle, 'your prudence amazes me--where DID youstudy life so well!--you are right. In such a case as yours, the objectis a fitting establishment. You could not descend to an inadequate onefrom Mr Boffin's house, and even if your beauty alone could not commandit, it is to be assumed that Mr and Mrs Boffin will--'
'Oh! they have already,' Bella interposed.
'No! Have they really?'
A little vexed by a suspicion that she had spoken precipitately, andwithal a little defiant of her own vexation, Bella determined not toretreat.
'That is to say,' she explained, 'they have told me they mean to portionme as their adopted child, if you mean that. But don't mention it.'
'Mention it!' replied Mrs Lammle, as if she were full of awakenedfeeling at the suggestion of such an impossibility. 'Men-tion it!'
'I don't mind telling you, Mrs Lammle--' Bella began again.
'My love, say Sophronia, or I must not say Bella.'
With a little short, petulant 'Oh!' Bella complied. 'Oh!--Sophroniathen--I don't mind telling you, Sophronia, that I am convinced I haveno heart, as people call it; and that I think that sort of thing isnonsense.'
'Brave girl!' murmured Mrs Lammle.
'And so,' pursued Bella, 'as to seeking to please myself, I don't;except in the one respect I have mentioned. I am indifferent otherwise.'
'But you can't help pleasing, Bella,' said Mrs Lammle, rallying her withan arch look and her best smile, 'you can't help making a proud and anadmiring husband. You may not care to please yourself, and you may notcare to please him, but you are not a free agent as to pleasing: youare forced to do that, in spite of yourself, my dear; so it may be aquestion whether you may not as well please yourself too, if you can.'
Now, the very grossness of this flattery put Bella upon proving that sheactually did please in spite of herself. She had a misgiving that shewas doing wrong--though she had an indistinct foreshadowing that someharm might come of it thereafter, she little thought what consequencesit would really bring about--but she went on with her confidence.
'Don't talk of pleasing in spite of one's self, dear,' said Bella. 'Ihave had enough of that.'
'Ay?' cried Mrs Lammle. 'Am I already corroborated, Bella?'
'Never mind, Sophronia, we will not speak of it any more. Don't ask meabout it.'
This plainly meaning Do ask me about it, Mrs Lammle did as she wasrequested.
'Tell me, Bella. Come, my dear. What provoking burr has beeninconveniently attracted to the charming skirts, and with difficultyshaken off?'
'Provoking indeed,' said Bella, 'and no burr to boast of! But don't askme.'
'Shall I guess?'
'You would never guess. What would you say to our Secretary?'
'My dear! The hermit Secretary, who creeps up and down the back stairs,and is never seen!'
'I don't know about his creeping up and down the back stairs,' saidBella, rather contemptuously, 'further than knowing that he does no suchthing; and as to his never being seen, I should be content never to haveseen him, though he is quite as visible as you are. But I pleased HIM(for my sins) and he had the presumption to tell me so.'
'The man never made a declaration to you, my dear Bella!'
'Are you sure of that, Sophronia?' said Bella. 'I am not. In fact, I amsure of the contrary.'
'The man must be mad,' said Mrs Lammle, with a kind of resignation.
'He appeared to be in his senses,' returned Bella, tossing her head,'and he had plenty to say for himself. I told him my opinion of hisdeclaration and his conduct, and dismissed him. Of course this has allbeen very inconvenient to me, and very disagreeable. It has remained asecret, however. That word reminds me to observe, Sophronia, that I haveglided on into telling you the secret, and that I rely upon you never tomention it.'
'Mention it!' repeated Mrs Lammle with her former feeling. 'Men-tionit!'
This time Sophronia was so much in earnest that she found it necessaryto bend forward in the carriage and give Bella a kiss. A Judas order ofkiss; for she thought, while she yet pressed Bella's hand after givingit, 'Upon your own showing, you vain heartless girl, puffed up by thedoting folly of a dustman, I need have no relenting towards YOU. If myhusband, who sends me here, should form any schemes for making YOU avictim, I should certainly not cross him again.' In those very samemoments, Bella was thinking, 'Why am I always at war with myself? Whyhave I told, as if upon compulsion, what I knew all along I ought tohave withheld? Why am I making a friend of this woman beside me, inspite of the whispers against her that I hear in my heart?'
As usual, there was no answer in the looking-glass when she got home andreferred these questions to it. Perhaps if she had consulted some betteroracle, the result might have been more satisfactory; but she did not,and all things consequent marched the march before them.
On one point connected with the watch she kept on Mr Boffin, she feltvery inquisitive, and that was the question whether the Secretarywatched him too, and followed the sure and steady change in him, as shedid? Her very limited intercourse with Mr Rokesmith rendered this hardto find out. Their communication now, at no time extended beyond thepreservation of commonplace appearances before Mr and Mrs Boffin; and ifBella and the Secretary were ever left alone together by any chance,he immediately withdrew. She consulted his face when she could do socovertly, as she worked or read, and could make nothing of it. He lookedsubdued; but he had acquired a strong command of feature, and, wheneverMr Boffin spoke to
him in Bella's presence, or whatever revelation ofhimself Mr Boffin made, the Secretary's face changed no more than awall. A slightly knitted brow, that expressed nothing but an almostmechanical attention, and a compression of the mouth, that might havebeen a guard against a scornful smile--these she saw from morning tonight, from day to day, from week to week, monotonous, unvarying, set,as in a piece of sculpture.
The worst of the matter was, that it thus fell out insensibly--and mostprovokingly, as Bella complained to herself, in her impetuous littlemanner--that her observation of Mr Boffin involved a continualobservation of Mr Rokesmith. 'Won't THAT extract a look from him?'--'Canit be possible THAT makes no impression on him?' Such questions Bellawould propose to herself, often as many times in a day as there werehours in it. Impossible to know. Always the same fixed face.
'Can he be so base as to sell his very nature for two hundred a year?'Bella would think. And then, 'But why not? It's a mere question of pricewith others besides him. I suppose I would sell mine, if I could getenough for it.' And so she would come round again to the war withherself.
A kind of illegibility, though a different kind, stole over MrBoffin's face. Its old simplicity of expression got masked by a certaincraftiness that assimilated even his good-humour to itself. His verysmile was cunning, as if he had been studying smiles among the portraitsof his misers. Saving an occasional burst of impatience, or coarseassertion of his mastery, his good-humour remained to him, but it hadnow a sordid alloy of distrust; and though his eyes should twinkle andall his face should laugh, he would sit holding himself in his ownarms, as if he had an inclination to hoard himself up, and must alwaysgrudgingly stand on the defensive.
What with taking heed of these two faces, and what with feelingconscious that the stealthy occupation must set some mark on her own,Bella soon began to think that there was not a candid or a natural faceamong them all but Mrs Boffin's. None the less because it was far lessradiant than of yore, faithfully reflecting in its anxiety and regretevery line of change in the Golden Dustman's.
'Rokesmith,' said Mr Boffin one evening when they were all in his roomagain, and he and the Secretary had been going over some accounts, 'Iam spending too much money. Or leastways, you are spending too much forme.'
'You are rich, sir.'
'I am not,' said Mr Boffin.
The sharpness of the retort was next to telling the Secretary that helied. But it brought no change of expression into the set face.
'I tell you I am not rich,' repeated Mr Boffin, 'and I won't have it.'
'You are not rich, sir?' repeated the Secretary, in measured words.
'Well,' returned Mr Boffin, 'if I am, that's my business. I am not goingto spend at this rate, to please you, or anybody. You wouldn't like it,if it was your money.'
'Even in that impossible case, sir, I--'
'Hold your tongue!' said Mr Boffin. 'You oughtn't to like it in anycase. There! I didn't mean to be rude, but you put me out so, and afterall I'm master. I didn't intend to tell you to hold your tongue. I begyour pardon. Don't hold your tongue. Only, don't contradict. Did youever come across the life of Mr Elwes?' referring to his favouritesubject at last.
'The miser?'
'Ah, people called him a miser. People are always calling other peoplesomething. Did you ever read about him?'
'I think so.'
'He never owned to being rich, and yet he might have bought me twiceover. Did you ever hear of Daniel Dancer?'
'Another miser? Yes.'
'He was a good 'un,' said Mr Boffin, 'and he had a sister worthy of him.They never called themselves rich neither. If they HAD called themselvesrich, most likely they wouldn't have been so.'
'They lived and died very miserably. Did they not, sir?'
'No, I don't know that they did,' said Mr Boffin, curtly.
'Then they are not the Misers I mean. Those abject wretches--'
'Don't call names, Rokesmith,' said Mr Boffin.
'--That exemplary brother and sister--lived and died in the foulest andfilthiest degradation.'
'They pleased themselves,' said Mr Boffin, 'and I suppose they couldhave done no more if they had spent their money. But however, I ain'tgoing to fling mine away. Keep the expenses down. The fact is, you ain'tenough here, Rokesmith. It wants constant attention in the littlestthings. Some of us will be dying in a workhouse next.'
'As the persons you have cited,' quietly remarked the Secretary,'thought they would, if I remember, sir.'
'And very creditable in 'em too,' said Mr Boffin. 'Very independent in'em! But never mind them just now. Have you given notice to quit yourlodgings?'
'Under your direction, I have, sir.'
'Then I tell you what,' said Mr Boffin; 'pay the quarter's rent--pay thequarter's rent, it'll be the cheapest thing in the end--and come here atonce, so that you may be always on the spot, day and night, and keep theexpenses down. You'll charge the quarter's rent to me, and we must tryand save it somewhere. You've got some lovely furniture; haven't you?'
'The furniture in my rooms is my own.'
'Then we shan't have to buy any for you. In case you was to think it,'said Mr Boffin, with a look of peculiar shrewdness, 'so honourablyindependent in you as to make it a relief to your mind, to make thatfurniture over to me in the light of a set-off against the quarter'srent, why ease your mind, ease your mind. I don't ask it, but I won'tstand in your way if you should consider it due to yourself. As to yourroom, choose any empty room at the top of the house.'
'Any empty room will do for me,' said the Secretary.
'You can take your pick,' said Mr Boffin, 'and it'll be as good as eightor ten shillings a week added to your income. I won't deduct for it; Ilook to you to make it up handsomely by keeping the expenses down. Now,if you'll show a light, I'll come to your office-room and dispose of aletter or two.'
On that clear, generous face of Mrs Boffin's, Bella had seen such tracesof a pang at the heart while this dialogue was being held, that shehad not the courage to turn her eyes to it when they were left alone.Feigning to be intent on her embroidery, she sat plying her needle untilher busy hand was stopped by Mrs Boffin's hand being lightly laid uponit. Yielding to the touch, she felt her hand carried to the good soul'slips, and felt a tear fall on it.
'Oh, my loved husband!' said Mrs Boffin. 'This is hard to see and hear.But my dear Bella, believe me that in spite of all the change in him, heis the best of men.'
He came back, at the moment when Bella had taken the hand comfortinglybetween her own.
'Eh?' said he, mistrustfully looking in at the door. 'What's she tellingyou?'
'She is only praising you, sir,' said Bella.
'Praising me? You are sure? Not blaming me for standing on my owndefence against a crew of plunderers, who could suck me dry by driblets?Not blaming me for getting a little hoard together?'
He came up to them, and his wife folded her hands upon his shoulder, andshook her head as she laid it on her hands.
'There, there, there!' urged Mr Boffin, not unkindly. 'Don't take on,old lady.'
'But I can't bear to see you so, my dear.'
'Nonsense! Recollect we are not our old selves. Recollect, we mustscrunch or be scrunched. Recollect, we must hold our own. Recollect,money makes money. Don't you be uneasy, Bella, my child; don't you bedoubtful. The more I save, the more you shall have.'
Bella thought it was well for his wife that she was musing with heraffectionate face on his shoulder; for there was a cunning light inhis eyes as he said all this, which seemed to cast a disagreeableillumination on the change in him, and make it morally uglier.