“When I proposed to come with Mr. and Mrs. Milvey,” said Bella, “Mrs. Boffin urged me to do so, in order that I might give her my small report — it’s not worth anything, Mr. Rokesmith, except for it’s being a woman’s — which indeed with you may be a fresh reason for it’s being worth nothing — of Lizzie Hexam.”

“Mr. Boffin,” said the Secretary, “directed me to come for the same purpose.”

As they spoke they were leaving the little street and emerging on the wooded landscape by the river.

“You think well of her, Mr. Rokesmith?” pursued Bella, conscious of making all the advances.

“I think highly of her.”

“I am so glad of that! Something quite refined in her beauty, is there not?”

“Her appearance is very striking.”

“There is a shade of sadness upon her that is quite touching. At least I — I am not setting up my own poor opinion, you know, Mr. Rokesmith,” said Bella, excusing and explaining herself in a pretty shy way; “I am consulting you.”

“I noticed that sadness. I hope it may not,” said the Secretary in a lower voice, “be the result of the false accusation which has been retracted.”

When they had passed on a little further without speaking, Bella, after stealing a glance or two at the Secretary, suddenly said:

“Oh, Mr. Rokesmith, don’t be hard with me, don’t be stern with me; be magnanimous! I want to talk with you on equal terms.”

The Secretary as suddenly brightened, and returned: “Upon my honour I had no thought but for you. I forced myself to be constrained, lest you might misinterpret my being more natural. There. It’s gone.”

“Thank you,” said Bella, holding out her little hand. “Forgive me.”

“No!” cried the Secretary, eagerly. “Forgive me!” For there were tears in her eyes, and they were prettier in his sight (though they smote him on the heart rather reproachfully too) than any other glitter in the world.

When they had walked a little further:

“You were going to speak to me,” said the Secretary, with the shadow so long on him quite thrown off and cast away, “about Lizzie Hexam. So was I going to speak to you, if I could have begun.”

“Now that you can begin, sir,” returned Bella, with a look as if she italicized the word by putting one of her dimples under it, “what were you going to say?”

“You remember, of course, that in her short letter to Mrs. Boffin — short, but containing everything to the purpose — she stipulated that either her name, or else her place of residence, must be kept strictly a secret among us.”

Bella nodded Yes.

“It is my duty to find out why she made that stipulation. I have it in charge from Mr. Boffin to discover, and I am very desirous for myself to discover, whether that retracted accusation still leaves any stain upon her. I mean whether it places her at any disadvantage towards any one, even towards herself.”