Our Mutual Friend, Page 31

  Chapter 14

  STRONG OF PURPOSE

  The sexton-task of piling earth above John Harmon all night long, wasnot conducive to sound sleep; but Rokesmith had some broken morningrest, and rose strengthened in his purpose. It was all over now. Noghost should trouble Mr and Mrs Boffin's peace; invisible and voiceless,the ghost should look on for a little while longer at the state ofexistence out of which it had departed, and then should for ever ceaseto haunt the scenes in which it had no place.

  He went over it all again. He had lapsed into the condition in whichhe found himself, as many a man lapses into many a condition, withoutperceiving the accumulative power of its separate circumstances. Whenin the distrust engendered by his wretched childhood and the action forevil--never yet for good within his knowledge then--of his father andhis father's wealth on all within their influence, he conceived the ideaof his first deception, it was meant to be harmless, it was to lastbut a few hours or days, it was to involve in it only the girl socapriciously forced upon him and upon whom he was so capriciouslyforced, and it was honestly meant well towards her. For, if he hadfound her unhappy in the prospect of that marriage (through her heartinclining to another man or for any other cause), he would seriouslyhave said: 'This is another of the old perverted uses of themisery-making money. I will let it go to my and my sister's onlyprotectors and friends.' When the snare into which he fell sooutstripped his first intention as that he found himself placarded bythe police authorities upon the London walls for dead, he confusedlyaccepted the aid that fell upon him, without considering how firmly itmust seem to fix the Boffins in their accession to the fortune. When hesaw them, and knew them, and even from his vantage-ground of inspectioncould find no flaw in them, he asked himself, 'And shall I come to lifeto dispossess such people as these?' There was no good to set againstthe putting of them to that hard proof. He had heard from Bella's ownlips when he stood tapping at the door on that night of his takingthe lodgings, that the marriage would have been on her part thoroughlymercenary. He had since tried her, in his own unknown person andsupposed station, and she not only rejected his advances but resentedthem. Was it for him to have the shame of buying her, or the meanness ofpunishing her? Yet, by coming to life and accepting the condition of theinheritance, he must do the former; and by coming to life and rejectingit, he must do the latter.

  Another consequence that he had never foreshadowed, was the implicationof an innocent man in his supposed murder. He would obtain completeretraction from the accuser, and set the wrong right; but clearly thewrong could never have been done if he had never planned a deception.Then, whatever inconvenience or distress of mind the deception cost him,it was manful repentantly to accept as among its consequences, and makeno complaint.

  Thus John Rokesmith in the morning, and it buried John Harmon still manyfathoms deeper than he had been buried in the night.

  Going out earlier than he was accustomed to do, he encountered thecherub at the door. The cherub's way was for a certain space his way,and they walked together.

  It was impossible not to notice the change in the cherub's appearance.The cherub felt very conscious of it, and modestly remarked:

  'A present from my daughter Bella, Mr Rokesmith.'

  The words gave the Secretary a stroke of pleasure, for he remembered thefifty pounds, and he still loved the girl. No doubt it was very weak--italways IS very weak, some authorities hold--but he loved the girl.

  'I don't know whether you happen to have read many books of AfricanTravel, Mr Rokesmith?' said R. W.

  'I have read several.'

  'Well, you know, there's usually a King George, or a King Boy, or a KingSambo, or a King Bill, or Bull, or Rum, or Junk, or whatever name thesailors may have happened to give him.'

  'Where?' asked Rokesmith.

  'Anywhere. Anywhere in Africa, I mean. Pretty well everywhere, I maysay; for black kings are cheap--and I think'--said R. W., with anapologetic air, 'nasty'.

  'I am much of your opinion, Mr Wilfer. You were going to say--?'

  'I was going to say, the king is generally dressed in a London hat only,or a Manchester pair of braces, or one epaulette, or an uniform coatwith his legs in the sleeves, or something of that kind.'

  'Just so,' said the Secretary.

  'In confidence, I assure you, Mr Rokesmith,' observed the cheerfulcherub, 'that when more of my family were at home and to be providedfor, I used to remind myself immensely of that king. You have no idea,as a single man, of the difficulty I have had in wearing more than onegood article at a time.'

  'I can easily believe it, Mr Wilfer.'

  'I only mention it,' said R. W. in the warmth of his heart, 'as a proofof the amiable, delicate, and considerate affection of my daughterBella. If she had been a little spoilt, I couldn't have thought so verymuch of it, under the circumstances. But no, not a bit. And she is sovery pretty! I hope you agree with me in finding her very pretty, MrRokesmith?'

  'Certainly I do. Every one must.'

  'I hope so,' said the cherub. 'Indeed, I have no doubt of it. This is agreat advancement for her in life, Mr Rokesmith. A great opening of herprospects?'

  'Miss Wilfer could have no better friends than Mr and Mrs Boffin.'

  'Impossible!' said the gratified cherub. 'Really I begin to think thingsare very well as they are. If Mr John Harmon had lived--'

  'He is better dead,' said the Secretary.

  'No, I won't go so far as to say that,' urged the cherub, a littleremonstrant against the very decisive and unpitying tone; 'but hemightn't have suited Bella, or Bella mightn't have suited him, or fiftythings, whereas now I hope she can choose for herself.'

  'Has she--as you place the confidence in me of speaking on the subject,you will excuse my asking--has she--perhaps--chosen?' faltered theSecretary.

  'Oh dear no!' returned R. W.

  'Young ladies sometimes,' Rokesmith hinted, 'choose without mentioningtheir choice to their fathers.'

  'Not in this case, Mr Rokesmith. Between my daughter Bella and me thereis a regular league and covenant of confidence. It was ratified only theother day. The ratification dates from--these,' said the cherub,giving a little pull at the lappels of his coat and the pockets of histrousers. 'Oh no, she has not chosen. To be sure, young George Sampson,in the days when Mr John Harmon--'

  'Who I wish had never been born!' said the Secretary, with a gloomybrow.

  R. W. looked at him with surprise, as thinking he had contracted anunaccountable spite against the poor deceased, and continued: 'In thedays when Mr John Harmon was being sought out, young George Sampsoncertainly was hovering about Bella, and Bella let him hover. But itnever was seriously thought of, and it's still less than ever to bethought of now. For Bella is ambitious, Mr Rokesmith, and I think I maypredict will marry fortune. This time, you see, she will have the personand the property before her together, and will be able to make herchoice with her eyes open. This is my road. I am very sorry to partcompany so soon. Good morning, sir!'

  The Secretary pursued his way, not very much elevated in spirits by thisconversation, and, arriving at the Boffin mansion, found Betty Higdenwaiting for him.

  'I should thank you kindly, sir,' said Betty, 'if I might make so boldas have a word or two wi' you.'

  She should have as many words as she liked, he told her; and took herinto his room, and made her sit down.

  ''Tis concerning Sloppy, sir,' said Betty. 'And that's how I come hereby myself. Not wishing him to know what I'm a-going to say to you, I gotthe start of him early and walked up.'

  'You have wonderful energy,' returned Rokesmith. 'You are as young as Iam.'

  Betty Higden gravely shook her head. 'I am strong for my time of life,sir, but not young, thank the Lord!'

  'Are you thankful for not being young?'

  'Yes, sir. If I was young, it would all have to be gone through again,and the end would be a weary way off, don't you see? But never mind me;'tis concerning Sloppy.'

  'And what about him, Betty?'

  '
'Tis just this, sir. It can't be reasoned out of his head by any powersof mine but what that he can do right by your kind lady and gentlemanand do his work for me, both together. Now he can't. To give himself upto being put in the way of arning a good living and getting on, he mustgive me up. Well; he won't.'

  'I respect him for it,' said Rokesmith.

  'DO ye, sir? I don't know but what I do myself. Still that don't make itright to let him have his way. So as he won't give me up, I'm a-going togive him up.'

  'How, Betty?'

  'I'm a-going to run away from him.'

  With an astonished look at the indomitable old face and the bright eyes,the Secretary repeated, 'Run away from him?'

  'Yes, sir,' said Betty, with one nod. And in the nod and in the firm setof her mouth, there was a vigour of purpose not to be doubted.

  'Come, come!' said the Secretary. 'We must talk about this. Let us takeour time over it, and try to get at the true sense of the case and thetrue course, by degrees.'

  'Now, lookee here, by dear,' returned old Betty--'asking your excusefor being so familiar, but being of a time of life a'most to be yourgrandmother twice over. Now, lookee, here. 'Tis a poor living and ahard as is to be got out of this work that I'm a doing now, and but forSloppy I don't know as I should have held to it this long. But it didjust keep us on, the two together. Now that I'm alone--with even Johnnygone--I'd far sooner be upon my feet and tiring of myself out, than asitting folding and folding by the fire. And I'll tell you why. There'sa deadness steals over me at times, that the kind of life favours and Idon't like. Now, I seem to have Johnny in my arms--now, his mother--now,his mother's mother--now, I seem to be a child myself, a lying onceagain in the arms of my own mother--then I get numbed, thought andsense, till I start out of my seat, afeerd that I'm a growing like thepoor old people that they brick up in the Unions, as you may sometimessee when they let 'em out of the four walls to have a warm in the sun,crawling quite scared about the streets. I was a nimble girl, and havealways been a active body, as I told your lady, first time ever I seeher good face. I can still walk twenty mile if I am put to it. I'd farbetter be a walking than a getting numbed and dreary. I'm a good fairknitter, and can make many little things to sell. The loan from yourlady and gentleman of twenty shillings to fit out a basket with, wouldbe a fortune for me. Trudging round the country and tiring of myselfout, I shall keep the deadness off, and get my own bread by my ownlabour. And what more can I want?'

  'And this is your plan,' said the Secretary, 'for running away?'

  'Show me a better! My deary, show me a better! Why, I know very well,'said old Betty Higden, 'and you know very well, that your lady andgentleman would set me up like a queen for the rest of my life, if so bethat we could make it right among us to have it so. But we can't make itright among us to have it so. I've never took charity yet, nor yet hasany one belonging to me. And it would be forsaking of myself indeed, andforsaking of my children dead and gone, and forsaking of their childrendead and gone, to set up a contradiction now at last.'

  'It might come to be justifiable and unavoidable at last,' the Secretarygently hinted, with a slight stress on the word.

  'I hope it never will! It ain't that I mean to give offence by beinganyways proud,' said the old creature simply, 'but that I want to be ofa piece like, and helpful of myself right through to my death.'

  'And to be sure,' added the Secretary, as a comfort for her, 'Sloppywill be eagerly looking forward to his opportunity of being to you whatyou have been to him.'

  'Trust him for that, sir!' said Betty, cheerfully. 'Though he had needto be something quick about it, for I'm a getting to be an old one. ButI'm a strong one too, and travel and weather never hurt me yet! Now, beso kind as speak for me to your lady and gentleman, and tell 'em what Iask of their good friendliness to let me do, and why I ask it.'

  The Secretary felt that there was no gainsaying what was urged bythis brave old heroine, and he presently repaired to Mrs Boffin andrecommended her to let Betty Higden have her way, at all events for thetime. 'It would be far more satisfactory to your kind heart, I know,'he said, 'to provide for her, but it may be a duty to respect thisindependent spirit.' Mrs Boffin was not proof against the considerationset before her. She and her husband had worked too, and had broughttheir simple faith and honour clean out of dustheaps. If they owed aduty to Betty Higden, of a surety that duty must be done.

  'But, Betty,' said Mrs Boffin, when she accompanied John Rokesmith backto his room, and shone upon her with the light of her radiant face,'granted all else, I think I wouldn't run away'.

  ''Twould come easier to Sloppy,' said Mrs Higden, shaking her head.''Twould come easier to me too. But 'tis as you please.'

  'When would you go?'

  'Now,' was the bright and ready answer. 'To-day, my deary, to-morrow.Bless ye, I am used to it. I know many parts of the country well. Whennothing else was to be done, I have worked in many a market-garden aforenow, and in many a hop-garden too.'

  'If I give my consent to your going, Betty--which Mr Rokesmith thinks Iought to do--'

  Betty thanked him with a grateful curtsey.

  '--We must not lose sight of you. We must not let you pass out of ourknowledge. We must know all about you.'

  'Yes, my deary, but not through letter-writing, becauseletter-writing--indeed, writing of most sorts hadn't much come up forsuch as me when I was young. But I shall be to and fro. No fear ofmy missing a chance of giving myself a sight of your reviving face.Besides,' said Betty, with logical good faith, 'I shall have a debt topay off, by littles, and naturally that would bring me back, if nothingelse would.'

  'MUST it be done?' asked Mrs Boffin, still reluctant, of the Secretary.

  'I think it must.'

  After more discussion it was agreed that it should be done, and MrsBoffin summoned Bella to note down the little purchases that werenecessary to set Betty up in trade. 'Don't ye be timorous for me, mydear,' said the stanch old heart, observant of Bella's face: 'when Itake my seat with my work, clean and busy and fresh, in a countrymarket-place, I shall turn a sixpence as sure as ever a farmer's wifethere.'

  The Secretary took that opportunity of touching on the practicalquestion of Mr Sloppy's capabilities. He would have made a wonderfulcabinet-maker, said Mrs Higden, 'if there had been the money to put himto it.' She had seen him handle tools that he had borrowed to mendthe mangle, or to knock a broken piece of furniture together, in asurprising manner. As to constructing toys for the Minders, out ofnothing, he had done that daily. And once as many as a dozen people hadgot together in the lane to see the neatness with which he fitted thebroken pieces of a foreign monkey's musical instrument. 'That's well,'said the Secretary. 'It will not be hard to find a trade for him.'

  John Harmon being buried under mountains now, the Secretary that verysame day set himself to finish his affairs and have done with him. Hedrew up an ample declaration, to be signed by Rogue Riderhood (knowinghe could get his signature to it, by making him another and much shorterevening call), and then considered to whom should he give the document?To Hexam's son, or daughter? Resolved speedily, to the daughter. But itwould be safer to avoid seeing the daughter, because the son had seenJulius Handford, and--he could not be too careful--there might possiblybe some comparison of notes between the son and daughter, which wouldawaken slumbering suspicion, and lead to consequences. 'I might even,'he reflected, 'be apprehended as having been concerned in my ownmurder!' Therefore, best to send it to the daughter under cover by thepost. Pleasant Riderhood had undertaken to find out where she lived,and it was not necessary that it should be attended by a single word ofexplanation. So far, straight.

  But, all that he knew of the daughter he derived from Mrs Boffin'saccounts of what she heard from Mr Lightwood, who seemed to have areputation for his manner of relating a story, and to have made thisstory quite his own. It interested him, and he would like to havethe means of knowing more--as, for instance, that she received theexonerating paper, and that it satisfied her--by openin
g some channelaltogether independent of Lightwood: who likewise had seen JuliusHandford, who had publicly advertised for Julius Handford, and whomof all men he, the Secretary, most avoided. 'But with whom the commoncourse of things might bring me in a moment face to face, any day in theweek or any hour in the day.'

  Now, to cast about for some likely means of opening such a channel. Theboy, Hexam, was training for and with a schoolmaster. The Secretary knewit, because his sister's share in that disposal of him seemed to bethe best part of Lightwood's account of the family. This young fellow,Sloppy, stood in need of some instruction. If he, the Secretary, engagedthat schoolmaster to impart it to him, the channel might be opened. Thenext point was, did Mrs Boffin know the schoolmaster's name? No, but sheknew where the school was. Quite enough. Promptly the Secretary wroteto the master of that school, and that very evening Bradley Headstoneanswered in person.

  The Secretary stated to the schoolmaster how the object was, to send tohim for certain occasional evening instruction, a youth whom Mr and MrsBoffin wished to help to an industrious and useful place in life. Theschoolmaster was willing to undertake the charge of such a pupil. TheSecretary inquired on what terms? The schoolmaster stated on what terms.Agreed and disposed of.

  'May I ask, sir,' said Bradley Headstone, 'to whose good opinion I owe arecommendation to you?'

  'You should know that I am not the principal here. I am Mr Boffin'sSecretary. Mr Boffin is a gentleman who inherited a property of whichyou may have heard some public mention; the Harmon property.'

  'Mr Harmon,' said Bradley: who would have been a great deal more at aloss than he was, if he had known to whom he spoke: 'was murdered andfound in the river.'

  'Was murdered and found in the river.'

  'It was not--'

  'No,' interposed the Secretary, smiling, 'it was not he who recommendedyou. Mr Boffin heard of you through a certain Mr Lightwood. I think youknow Mr Lightwood, or know of him?'

  'I know as much of him as I wish to know, sir. I have no acquaintancewith Mr Lightwood, and I desire none. I have no objection to MrLightwood, but I have a particular objection to some of Mr Lightwood'sfriends--in short, to one of Mr Lightwood's friends. His great friend.'

  He could hardly get the words out, even then and there, so fierce didhe grow (though keeping himself down with infinite pains of repression),when the careless and contemptuous bearing of Eugene Wrayburn rosebefore his mind.

  The Secretary saw there was a strong feeling here on some sore point,and he would have made a diversion from it, but for Bradley's holding toit in his cumbersome way.

  'I have no objection to mention the friend by name,' he said, doggedly.'The person I object to, is Mr Eugene Wrayburn.'

  The Secretary remembered him. In his disturbed recollection of thatnight when he was striving against the drugged drink, there was but adim image of Eugene's person; but he remembered his name, and his mannerof speaking, and how he had gone with them to view the body, and wherehe had stood, and what he had said.

  'Pray, Mr Headstone, what is the name,' he asked, again trying to make adiversion, 'of young Hexam's sister?'

  'Her name is Lizzie,' said the schoolmaster, with a strong contractionof his whole face.

  'She is a young woman of a remarkable character; is she not?'

  'She is sufficiently remarkable to be very superior to Mr EugeneWrayburn--though an ordinary person might be that,' said theschoolmaster; 'and I hope you will not think it impertinent in me, sir,to ask why you put the two names together?'

  'By mere accident,' returned the Secretary. 'Observing that Mr Wrayburnwas a disagreeable subject with you, I tried to get away from it: thoughnot very successfully, it would appear.'

  'Do you know Mr Wrayburn, sir?'

  'No.'

  'Then perhaps the names cannot be put together on the authority of anyrepresentation of his?'

  'Certainly not.'

  'I took the liberty to ask,' said Bradley, after casting his eyes onthe ground, 'because he is capable of making any representation, in theswaggering levity of his insolence. I--I hope you will not misunderstandme, sir. I--I am much interested in this brother and sister, and thesubject awakens very strong feelings within me. Very, very, strongfeelings.' With a shaking hand, Bradley took out his handkerchief andwiped his brow.

  The Secretary thought, as he glanced at the schoolmaster's face, that hehad opened a channel here indeed, and that it was an unexpectedly darkand deep and stormy one, and difficult to sound. All at once, in themidst of his turbulent emotions, Bradley stopped and seemed to challengehis look. Much as though he suddenly asked him, 'What do you see in me?'

  'The brother, young Hexam, was your real recommendation here,' said theSecretary, quietly going back to the point; 'Mr and Mrs Boffin happeningto know, through Mr Lightwood, that he was your pupil. Anything thatI ask respecting the brother and sister, or either of them, I ask formyself out of my own interest in the subject, and not in my officialcharacter, or on Mr Boffin's behalf. How I come to be interested, I neednot explain. You know the father's connection with the discovery of MrHarmon's body.'

  'Sir,' replied Bradley, very restlessly indeed, 'I know all thecircumstances of that case.'

  'Pray tell me, Mr Headstone,' said the Secretary. 'Does the sistersuffer under any stigma because of the impossible accusation--groundlesswould be a better word--that was made against the father, andsubstantially withdrawn?'

  'No, sir,' returned Bradley, with a kind of anger.

  'I am very glad to hear it.'

  'The sister,' said Bradley, separating his words over-carefully, andspeaking as if he were repeating them from a book, 'suffers under noreproach that repels a man of unimpeachable character who had madefor himself every step of his way in life, from placing her in his ownstation. I will not say, raising her to his own station; I say, placingher in it. The sister labours under no reproach, unless she shouldunfortunately make it for herself. When such a man is not deterred fromregarding her as his equal, and when he has convinced himself thatthere is no blemish on her, I think the fact must be taken to be prettyexpressive.'

  'And there is such a man?' said the Secretary.

  Bradley Headstone knotted his brows, and squared his large lower jaw,and fixed his eyes on the ground with an air of determination thatseemed unnecessary to the occasion, as he replied: 'And there is such aman.'

  The Secretary had no reason or excuse for prolonging the conversation,and it ended here. Within three hours the oakum-headed apparition oncemore dived into the Leaving Shop, and that night Rogue Riderhood'srecantation lay in the post office, addressed under cover to LizzieHexam at her right address.

  All these proceedings occupied John Rokesmith so much, that it was notuntil the following day that he saw Bella again. It seemed then to betacitly understood between them that they were to be as distantly easyas they could, without attracting the attention of Mr and Mrs Boffin toany marked change in their manner. The fitting out of old Betty Higdenwas favourable to this, as keeping Bella engaged and interested, and asoccupying the general attention.

  'I think,' said Rokesmith, when they all stood about her, while shepacked her tidy basket--except Bella, who was busily helping on herknees at the chair on which it stood; 'that at least you might keep aletter in your pocket, Mrs Higden, which I would write for you and datefrom here, merely stating, in the names of Mr and Mrs Boffin, that theyare your friends;--I won't say patrons, because they wouldn't like it.'

  'No, no, no,' said Mr Boffin; 'no patronizing! Let's keep out of THAT,whatever we come to.'

  'There's more than enough of that about, without us; ain't there,Noddy?' said Mrs Boffin.

  'I believe you, old lady!' returned the Golden Dustman. 'Overmuchindeed!'

  'But people sometimes like to be patronized; don't they, sir?' askedBella, looking up.

  'I don't. And if THEY do, my dear, they ought to learn better,' said MrBoffin. 'Patrons and Patronesses, and Vice-Patrons and Vice-Patronesses,and Deceased Patrons and Deceased Patrones
ses, and Ex-Vice-Patrons andEx-Vice-Patronesses, what does it all mean in the books of the Charitiesthat come pouring in on Rokesmith as he sits among 'em pretty well up tohis neck! If Mr Tom Noakes gives his five shillings ain't he a Patron,and if Mrs Jack Styles gives her five shillings ain't she a Patroness?What the deuce is it all about? If it ain't stark staring impudence,what do you call it?'

  'Don't be warm, Noddy,' Mrs Boffin urged.

  'Warm!' cried Mr Boffin. 'It's enough to make a man smoking hot. I can'tgo anywhere without being Patronized. I don't want to be Patronized. IfI buy a ticket for a Flower Show, or a Music Show, or any sort of Show,and pay pretty heavy for it, why am I to be Patroned and Patronessed asif the Patrons and Patronesses treated me? If there's a good thing to bedone, can't it be done on its own merits? If there's a bad thing tobe done, can it ever be Patroned and Patronessed right? Yet when a newInstitution's going to be built, it seems to me that the bricks andmortar ain't made of half so much consequence as the Patrons andPatronesses; no, nor yet the objects. I wish somebody would tell mewhether other countries get Patronized to anything like the extent ofthis one! And as to the Patrons and Patronesses themselves, I wonderthey're not ashamed of themselves. They ain't Pills, or Hair-Washes, orInvigorating Nervous Essences, to be puffed in that way!'

  Having delivered himself of these remarks, Mr Boffin took a trot,according to his usual custom, and trotted back to the spot from whichhe had started.

  'As to the letter, Rokesmith,' said Mr Boffin, 'you're as right as atrivet. Give her the letter, make her take the letter, put it in herpocket by violence. She might fall sick. You know you might fall sick,'said Mr Boffin. 'Don't deny it, Mrs Higden, in your obstinacy; you knowyou might.'

  Old Betty laughed, and said that she would take the letter and bethankful.

  'That's right!' said Mr Boffin. 'Come! That's sensible. And don't bethankful to us (for we never thought of it), but to Mr Rokesmith.'

  The letter was written, and read to her, and given to her.

  'Now, how do you feel?' said Mr Boffin. 'Do you like it?'

  'The letter, sir?' said Betty. 'Ay, it's a beautiful letter!'

  'No, no, no; not the letter,' said Mr Boffin; 'the idea. Are you sureyou're strong enough to carry out the idea?'

  'I shall be stronger, and keep the deadness off better, this way, thanany way left open to me, sir.'

  'Don't say than any way left open, you know,' urged Mr Boffin; 'becausethere are ways without end. A housekeeper would be acceptable overyonder at the Bower, for instance. Wouldn't you like to see theBower, and know a retired literary man of the name of Wegg that livesthere--WITH a wooden leg?'

  Old Betty was proof even against this temptation, and fell to adjustingher black bonnet and shawl.

  'I wouldn't let you go, now it comes to this, after all,' said MrBoffin, 'if I didn't hope that it may make a man and a workman ofSloppy, in as short a time as ever a man and workman was made yet. Why,what have you got there, Betty? Not a doll?'

  It was the man in the Guards who had been on duty over Johnny's bed.The solitary old woman showed what it was, and put it up quietly in herdress. Then, she gratefully took leave of Mrs Boffin, and of Mr Boffin,and of Rokesmith, and then put her old withered arms round Bella's youngand blooming neck, and said, repeating Johnny's words: 'A kiss for theboofer lady.'

  The Secretary looked on from a doorway at the boofer lady thusencircled, and still looked on at the boofer lady standing alone there,when the determined old figure with its steady bright eyes was trudgingthrough the streets, away from paralysis and pauperism.