‘I regret to hear I am in some sort anticipated,’
Mr Rokesmith answered, evidently having heard it with
surprise; ’but perhaps other duties might arise?’
‘You see,’ returned Mr Boffin, with a
confidential sense of dignity, ’as to my literary
man’s duties, they’re clear. Professionally
he declines and he falls, and as a friend he drops
into poetry.’
Without observing that these duties seemed by no means
clear to Mr Rokesmith’s astonished comprehension,
Mr Boffin went on:
’And now, sir, I’ll wish you good-day.
You can call at the Bower any time in a week or two.
It’s not above a mile or so from you, and your
landlord can direct you to it. But as he may not
know it by it’s new name of Boffin’s Bower,
say, when you inquire of him, it’s Harmon’s;
will you?’
‘Harmoon’s,’ repeated Mr Rokesmith,
seeming to have caught the sound imperfectly, ‘Harmarn’s.
How do you spell it?’
‘Why, as to the spelling of it,’ returned
Mr Boffin, with great presence of mind, ’that’s
your look out. Harmon’s is all you’ve
got to say to him. Morning, morning, morning!’
And so departed, without looking back.
MR AND MRS BOFFIN IN CONSULTATION
Betaking himself straight homeward, Mr Boffin, without
further let or hindrance, arrived at the Bower, and
gave Mrs Boffin (in a walking dress of black velvet
and feathers, like a mourning coach-horse) an account
of all he had said and done since breakfast.
‘This brings us round, my dear,’ he then
pursued, ’to the question we left unfinished:
namely, whether there’s to be any new go-in for
Fashion.’
‘Now, I’ll tell you what I want, Noddy,’
said Mrs Boffin, smoothing her dress with an air of
immense enjoyment, ‘I want Society.’
‘Fashionable Society, my dear?’
‘Yes!’ cried Mrs Boffin, laughing with
the glee of a child. ’Yes! It’s
no good my being kept here like Wax-Work; is it now?’
‘People have to pay to see Wax-Work, my dear,’
returned her husband, ’whereas (though you’d
be cheap at the same money) the neighbours is welcome
to see you for nothing.’
‘But it don’t answer,’ said the
cheerful Mrs Boffin. ’When we worked like
the neighbours, we suited one another. Now we
have left work off; we have left off suiting one another.’
‘What, do you think of beginning work again?’
Mr Boffin hinted.
’Out of the question! We have come into
a great fortune, and we must do what’s right
by our fortune; we must act up to it.’
Mr Boffin, who had a deep respect for his wife’s
intuitive wisdom, replied, though rather pensively:
‘I suppose we must.’
’It’s never been acted up to yet, and,
consequently, no good has come of it,’ said
Mrs Boffin.
‘True, to the present time,’ Mr Boffin
assented, with his former pensiveness, as he took
his seat upon his settle. ’I hope good may
be coming of it in the future time. Towards which,
what’s your views, old lady?’
