Boffin, as if it represented her chief objection to the owners of that name, and as if she could have born Doffin, Moffin, or Poffin much better.)

“Ma,” said Bella, angrily, “you force me to say that I am truly sorry I did come home, and that I never will come home again, except when poor dear Pa is here. For, Pa is too magnanimous to feel envy and spite towards my generous friends, and Pa is delicate enough and gentle enough to remember the sort of little claim they thought I had upon them and the unusually trying position in which, through no act of my own, I had been placed. And I always did love poor dear Pa better than all the rest of you put together, and I always do and I always shall!”

Here Bella, deriving no comfort from her charming bonnet and her elegant dress, burst into tears.

“I think, R.W.,” cried Mrs Wilfer, lifting up her eyes and apostrophizing the air, “that if you were present, it would be a trial to your feelings to hear your wife and the mother of your family depreciated in your name. But Fate has spared you this, R.W., whatever it may have thought proper to inflict upon her!”

Here Mrs Wilfer burst into tears.

“I hate the Boffins!” protested Miss Lavinia. “I don’t care who objects to their being called the Boffins. I WILL call ’em the Boffins. The Boffins, the Boffins, the Boffins! And I say they are mischief-making Boffins, and I say the Boffins have set Bella against me, and I tell the Boffins to their faces:” which was not strictly the fact, but the young lady was excited: “that they are detestable Boffins, disreputable Boffins, odious Boffins, beastly Boffins. There!”

Here Miss Lavinia burst into tears.

The front garden-gate clanked, and the Secretary was seen coming at a brisk pace up the steps. “Leave Me to open the door to him,” said Mrs Wilfer, rising with stately resignation as she shook her head and dried her eyes; “we have at present no stipendiary girl to do so. We have nothing to conceal. If he sees these traces of emotion on our cheeks, let him construe them as he may.”

With those words she stalked out. In a few moments she stalked in again, proclaiming in her heraldic manner, “Mr Rokesmith is the bearer of a packet for Miss Bella Wilfer.”

Mr Rokesmith followed close upon his name, and of course saw what was amiss. But he discreetly affected to see nothing, and addressed Miss Bella.

“Mr Boffin intended to have placed this in the carriage for you this morning. He wished you to have it, as a little keepsake he had prepared — it is only a purse, Miss Wilfer — but as he was disappointed in his fancy, I volunteered to come after you with it.”

Bella took it in her hand, and thanked him.

“We have been quarrelling here a little, Mr Rokesmith, but not more than we used; you know our agreeable ways among ourselves. You find me just going. Good-bye, mamma. Good- bye, Lavvy!” and with a kiss for each Miss Bella turned to the door. The Secretary would have attended her, but Mrs Wilfer advancing and saying with dignity, “Pardon me! Permit me to assert my natural right to escort my child to the equipage which is in waiting for her,” he begged pardon and gave place. It was a very magnificent spectacle indeed, too see Mrs Wilfer throw open the house-door, and loudly demand with extended gloves, “The male domestic of Mrs Boffin!” To whom presenting himself, she delivered the brief but majestic charge, “Miss Wilfer. Coming out!” and so delivered her over, like a female Lieutenant of the Tower relinquishing a State Prisoner. The effect of this ceremonial was for some quarter of an hour afterwards perfectly paralyzing on the neighbours, and was much enhanced by the worthy lady airing herself for that term in a kind of splendidly serene trance on the top step.