‘Such a night?’ repeated Mortimer.
‘What became of you in the morning?’
‘My dear fellow,’ said Eugene, sitting
on his bed, ’I felt that we had bored one another
so long, that an unbroken continuance of those relations
must inevitably terminate in our flying to opposite
points of the earth. I also felt that I had committed
every crime in the Newgate Calendar. So, for
mingled considerations of friendship and felony, I
took a walk.’
TWO NEW SERVANTS
Mr and Mrs Boffin sat after breakfast, in the Bower,
a prey to prosperity. Mr Boffin’s face
denoted Care and Complication. Many disordered
papers were before him, and he looked at them about
as hopefully as an innocent civilian might look at
a crowd of troops whom he was required at five minutes’
notice to manoeuvre and review. He had been engaged
in some attempts to make notes of these papers; but
being troubled (as men of his stamp often are) with
an exceedingly distrustful and corrective thumb, that
busy member had so often interposed to smear his notes,
that they were little more legible than the various
impressions of itself; which blurred his nose and forehead.
It is curious to consider, in such a case as Mr Boffin’s,
what a cheap article ink is, and how far it may be
made to go. As a grain of musk will scent a drawer
for many years, and still lose nothing appreciable
of its original weight, so a halfpenny-worth of ink
would blot Mr Boffin to the roots of his hair and
the calves of his legs, without inscribing a line
on the paper before him, or appearing to diminish in
the inkstand.
Mr Boffin was in such severe literary difficulties
that his eyes were prominent and fixed, and his breathing
was stertorous, when, to the great relief of Mrs Boffin,
who observed these symptoms with alarm, the yard bell
rang.
‘Who’s that, I wonder!’ said Mrs
Boffin.
Mr Boffin drew a long breath, laid down his pen, looked
at his notes as doubting whether he had the pleasure
of their acquaintance, and appeared, on a second perusal
of their countenances, to be confirmed in his impression
that he had not, when there was announced by the hammer-headed
young man:
‘Mr Rokesmith.’
‘Oh!’ said Mr Boffin. ‘Oh indeed!
Our and the Wilfers’ Mutual Friend, my dear.
Yes. Ask him to come in.’
Mr Rokesmith appeared.
‘Sit down, sir,’ said Mr Boffin, shaking
hands with him. ’Mrs Boffin you’re
already acquainted with. Well, sir, I am rather
unprepared to see you, for, to tell you the truth,
I’ve been so busy with one thing and another,
that I’ve not had time to turn your offer over.’
‘That’s apology for both of us: for
Mr Boffin, and for me as well,’ said the smiling
Mrs Boffin. ‘But Lor! we can talk it over
now; can’t us?’
Mr Rokesmith bowed, thanked her, and said he hoped
so.
‘Let me see then,’ resumed Mr Boffin,
with his hand to his chin. ’It was Secretary
that you named; wasn’t it?’
