end in a little man whose mind would be below the average, but that was in what I may denominate a paroxysm of maternal disappointment. Within a month,' said Mrs Wilfer, deepening her voice, as if she were relating a terrible ghost story, 'within a-month, I first saw R. W. my husband. Within a year, I married him. It is natural for the mind to recall these dark coincidences on the present day.'
Mr Sampson at length released from the custody of Mrs Wilfer's eye, now drew a long breath, and made the original and striking remark that there was no accounting for these sort of presentiments. R. W. scratched his head and looked apologetically all round the table until he came to his wife, when observing her as it were shrouded in a more sombre veil than before, he once more hinted, 'My dear, I am really afraid you are not altogether enjoying yourself?' To which she once more replied, 'On the contrary, R. W. Quite so.'
The wretched Mr Sampson's position at this agreeable entertainment was truly pitiable. For, not only was he exposed defenceless to the harangues of Mrs Wilfer, but he received the utmost contumely at the hands of Lavinia; who, partly to show Bella that she (Lavinia) could do what she liked with him, and partly to pay him off for still obviously admiring Bella's beauty, led him the life of a dog. Illuminated on the one hand by the stately graces of Mrs Wilfer's oratory, and shadowed on the other by the checks and frowns of the young lady to whom he had devoted himself in his destitution, the sufferings of this young gentleman were distressing to witness. If his mind for the moment reeled under them, it may be urged, in extenuation of its weakness, that it was constitutionally a knock- knee'd mind and never very strong upon its legs.
The rosy hours were thus beguiled until it was time for Bella to have Pa's escort back. The dimples duly tied up in the bonnet– strings and the leave-taking done, they got out into the air, and the cherub drew a long breath 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 it a number of consolatory pats. 'Thank you, my dear,' he said, as if she 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 have when I marry, and what is the least I can manage to do with, that I am beginning to get wrinkles over my nose. Did you notice any wrinkles over my 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 able to keep my greediness for money out of my eyes long, and when you see it there 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 to impart?'
'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 came out? The confidences of lovely women are not to be slighted. However, I forgive you this once, and look here, Pa; that's' — Bella laid the little forefinger of her right glove on her lip, and then laid it on her father's lip — 'that's a kiss for you. And now I am going seriously to 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 and confidentially.
'Number one,' said Bella, 'will electrify you, Pa. Who do you think has' — she was confused here in spite of her merry way of beginning 'has made an offer to me?'
Pa looked in her face, and looked at the ground, and looked in her face again, 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 for emphasis. 'What do you say to THAT?'
Pa answered quietly with the counter-question, 'What did YOU say to that, 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 an affront to me,' said Bella.
'Yes. To be sure. I am astonished indeed. I wonder he committed himself without seeing more of his way first. Now I think of it, I suspect he always has admired you though, my dear.'
'A hackney coachman may admire me,' remarked Bella, with a touch of her mother's loftiness.
'It's highly probable, my love. Number two, my dear?'
'Number two, Pa, is much to the same purpose, though not so preposterous. 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!' her father 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 or two. 'Haven't I told you what a mercenary little wretch I am? It only becomes enough when he has no money, and no clients, and no expectations, 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, a delightful thing. Mrs Boffin has herself told me, as a secret, with her own kind lips — and truer lips never opened or closed in this life, I am sure — that they wish to see me well married; and that when I marry with their consent they will portion me most handsomely.' Here the grateful girl 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 dear favourite child is, after all disappointments, to be so provided for and so raised in the world; but don't YOU cry, don't YOU cry. I am very thankful. I congratulate you with all my heart, my dear.' The good soft little fellow, drying his eyes, here, Bella put her arms round his neck and tenderly kissed him on the high road, passionately telling him he was the best of fathers and the best of friends, and that on her wedding-morning she would go down on her knees to him and beg his pardon for having ever teased him or seemed insensible to the worth of such a patient, sympathetic, genial, fresh young heart. At every one of her adjectives she redoubled her kisses, and finally kissed his hat off, and then 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 on again once more, said her father then: 'Number four, my dear?'
Bella's countenance fell in the midst of her mirth. 'After all, perhaps I had better put off number four, Pa. Let me try once more, if for never so 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. Have you 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, if you 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 him to?' said the cherub, as a last
