Mr Boffin embraced his spouse for these words of wisdom, and then, congratulating John Rokesmith on the brilliancy of his achievements, gave him his hand in pledge of their new relations. So did Mrs Boffin.

“Now,” said Mr Boffin, who, in his frankness, felt that it did not become him to have a gentleman in his employment five minutes, without reposing some confidence in him, “you must be let a little more into our affairs, Rokesmith. I mentioned to you, when I made your acquaintance, or I might better say when you made mine, that Mrs Boffin’s inclinations was setting in the way of Fashion, but that I didn’t know how fashionable we might or might not grow. Well! Mrs Boffin has carried the day, and we’re going in neck and crop for Fashion.”

“I rather inferred that, sir,” replied John Rokesmith, “from the scale on which your new establishment is to be maintained.”

“Yes,” said Mr Boffin, “it’s to be a Spanker. The fact is, my literary man named to me that a house with which he is, as I may say, connected — in which he has an interest—”

“As property?” inquired John Rokesmith.

“Why no,” said Mr Boffin, “not exactly that; a sort of a family tie.”

“Association?” the Secretary suggested.

“Ah!” said Mr Boffin. “Perhaps. Anyhow, he named to me that the house had a board up, ‘This Eminently Aristocratic Mansion to be let or sold.’ Me and Mrs Boffin went to look at it, and finding it beyond a doubt Eminently Aristocratic (though a trifle high and dull, which after all may be part of the same thing) took it. My literary man was so friendly as to drop into a charming piece of poetry on that occasion, in which he complimented Mrs Boffin on coming into possession of — how did it go, my dear?”

Mrs Boffin replied:

“That’s it! And it was made neater by there really being two halls in the house, a front ’un and a back ’un, besides the servants’. He likewise dropped into a very pretty piece of poetry to be sure, respecting the extent to which he would be willing to put himself out of the way to bring Mrs Boffin round, in case she should ever get low in her spirits in the house. Mrs Boffin has a wonderful memory. Will you repeat it, my dear?”

Mrs Boffin complied, by reciting the verses in which this obliging offer had been made, exactly as she had received them.

“Correct to the letter!” said Mr Boffin. “And I consider that the poetry brings us both in, in a beautiful manner.”

The effect of the poem on the Secretary being evidently to astonish him, Mr Boffin was confirmed in his high opinion of it, and was greatly pleased.

“Now, you see, Rokesmith,” he went on, “a literary man — with a wooden leg — is liable to jealousy. I shall therefore cast about for comfortable ways and means of not calling up Wegg’s jealousy, but of keeping you in your department, and keeping him in his.”