the best of men.'

She made the declaration as if he were objecting to it: which assuredly
he was not in any way.

'And as to you, my dear Bella,' said Mrs Boffin, still with that
distressed expression, 'he is so much attached to you, whatever he says,
that your own father has not a truer interest in you and can hardly like
you better than he does.'

'Says too!' cried Mr Boffin. 'Whatever he says! Why, I say so, openly.
Give me a kiss, my dear child, in saying Good Night, and let me confirm
what my old lady tells you. I am very fond of you, my dear, and I am
entirely of your mind, and you and I will take care that you shall be
rich. These good looks of yours (which you have some right to be vain
of; my dear, though you are not, you know) are worth money, and you
shall make money of 'em. The money you will have, will be worth money,
and you shall make money of that too. There's a golden ball at your
feet. Good night, my dear.'

Somehow, Bella was not so well pleased with this assurance and this
prospect as she might have been. Somehow, when she put her arms
round Mrs Boffin's neck and said Good Night, she derived a sense of
unworthiness from the still anxious face of that good woman and her
obvious wish to excuse her husband. 'Why, what need to excuse him?'
thought Bella, sitting down in her own room. 'What he said was very
sensible, I am sure, and very true, I am sure. It is only what I often
say to myself. Don't I like it then? No, I don't like it, and, though
he is my liberal benefactor, I disparage him for it. Then pray,' said
Bella, sternly putting the question to herself in the looking-glass as
usual, 'what do you mean by this, you inconsistent little Beast?'

The looking-glass preserving a discreet ministerial silence when thus
called upon for explanation, Bella went to bed with a weariness upon her
spirit which was more than the weariness of want of sleep. And again
in the morning, she looked for the cloud, and for the deepening of the
cloud, upon the Golden Dustman's face.

She had begun by this time to be his frequent companion in his morning
strolls about the streets, and it was at this time that he made her a
party to his engaging in a curious pursuit. Having been hard at work in
one dull enclosure all his life, he had a child's delight in looking
at shops. It had been one of the first novelties and pleasures of his
freedom, and was equally the delight of his wife. For many years their
only walks in