“Rumty’s. You see, being rather high and up two steps they call it a Perch. And they call me Rumty.”

“How dare they!” exclaimed Bella.

“They’re playful, Bella my dear; they’re playful. They’re more or less younger than I am, and they’re playful. What does it matter? It might be Surly, or Sulky, or fifty disagreeable things that I really shouldn’t like to be considered. But Rumty! Lor, why not Rumty?”

To inflict a heavy disappointment on this sweet nature, which had been, through all her caprices, the object of her recognition, love, and admiration from infancy, Bella felt to be the hardest task of her hard day. “I should have done better,” she thought, “to tell him at first; I should have done better to tell him just now, when he had some slight misgiving; he is quite happy again, and I shall make him wretched.”

He was falling back on his loaf and milk, with the pleasantest composure, and Bella stealing her arm a little closer about him, and at the same time sticking up his hair with an irresistible propensity to play with him founded on the habit of her whole life, had prepared herself to say: “Pa dear, don’t be cast down, but I must tell you something disagreeable!” when he interrupted her in an unlooked-for manner.

“My gracious me!” he exclaimed, invoking the Mincing Lane echoes as before. “This is very extraordinary!”

“What is, Pa?”

“Why here’s Mr. Rokesmith now!”

“No, no, Pa, no,” cried Bella, greatly flurried. “Surely not.”

“Yes there is! Look here!”

Sooth to say, Mr. Rokesmith not only passed the window, but came into the counting-house. And not only came into the counting-house, but, finding himself alone there with Bella and her father, rushed at Bella and caught her in his arms, with the rapturous words “My dear, dear girl; my gallant, generous, disinterested, courageous, noble girl!” And not only that even, (which one might have thought astonishment enough for one dose), but Bella, after hanging her head for a moment, lifted it up and laid it on his breast, as if that were her head’s chosen and lasting resting-place!

“I knew you would come to him, and I followed you,” said Rokesmith. “My love, my life! You ARE mine?”

To which Bella responded, “Yes, I AM yours if you think me worth taking!” And after that, seemed to shrink to next to nothing in the clasp of his arms, partly because it was such a strong one on his part, and partly because there was such a yielding to it on hers.

The cherub, whose hair would have done for itself under the influence of this amazing spectacle, what Bella had just now done for it, staggered back into the window-seat from which he had risen, and surveyed the pair with his eyes dilated to their utmost.

“But we must think of dear Pa,” said Bella; “I haven’t told dear Pa; let us speak to Pa.” Upon which they turned to do so. “I wish first, my dear,” remarked the cherub faintly, “that you’d have the kindness to sprinkle me with a little milk, for I feel as if I was — Going.”

In fact, the good little fellow had become alarmingly limp, and his senses seemed to be rapidly escaping, from the knees upward. Bella sprinkled him with kisses instead of milk, but gave him a little of that article to drink; and he gradually revived under her caressing care.

“We’ll break it to you gently, dearest Pa,” said Bella.


  By PanEris using Melati.

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