him?"

"Mr. Rokesmith is very punctual, very quiet--a very eligible inmate."

The Boffins drove away, and Mr. Rokesmith, coming to the Bower,
extricated Mr. Boffin from a mass of disordered papers, and gave such
satisfaction that his services were accepted, and he took up the
secretaryship.

_II.--The Golden Dustman Deteriorates_

Miss Bella Wilfer was conscious that she was growing mercenary. She
admitted as much to her father. There were several other secrets she had
to impart beyond her own lack of improvement.

"Mr. Rokesmith has made an offer to me, pa, and I told him I thought it
a betrayal of trust on his part, and an affront to me. Mrs. Boffin has
herself told me, with her own kind lips, that they wish to see me well
married; and that when I marry, with their consent, they will portion me
most handsomely. That is another secret. And now there is only one more,
and it is very hard to tell it. But Mr. Boffin is being spoilt by
prosperity, and is changing for the worse every day. Not to me--he is
always the same to me--but to others about him. He grows suspicious,
hard, and unjust. If ever a good man were ruined by good fortune, it is
my benefactor."

Bella parted from her father, and returned to the Boffins, to find fresh
proofs of the deterioration of the Golden Dustman.

"Now, Rokesmith," Mr. Boffin was saying, "it's time to settle about your
wages. A man of property like me is bound to consider the market price.
If I pay for a sheep, I buy it out and out. Similarly, if I pay for a
secretary, I buy _him_ out and out. It's convenient to have you at all
times ready on the premises."

The secretary bowed and withdrew. Bella's eyes followed him to the door.
She felt that Mrs. Boffin was uncomfortable.

"Noddy," said Mrs. Boffin thoughtfully, "haven't you been a little
strict with Mr. Rokesmith to-night? Haven't you been just a little not
quite like your own old self?"

"Why, old woman, I hope so," said Mr. Boffin cheerfully. "Our old selves
wouldn't do here, old lady. Our old selves would be fit for nothing but
to be imposed upon. Our old selves weren't people of fortune. Our new
selves are. It's a great difference."

Very uncomfortable was Bella that night, and very uneasy was she as the
days went by, for Mr. Boffin made a point of hunting up old books that
gave the lives of misers, and the more enjoyment he seemed to get out of
this literature, the harder he became to the secretary. Somehow, the