“Confess this minute, sir,” said Bella, “that you did it to correct and amend me!”
“Certainly, my dear child,” said Mr. Boffin, “I didn’t do it to harm you; you may be sure of that. And I did hope it might just hint a caution. Still, it ought to be mentioned that no sooner had my old lady found out John, than John made known to her and me that he had had his eye upon a thankless person by the name of Silas Wegg. Partly for the punishment of which Wegg, by leading him on in a very unhandsome and underhanded game that he was playing, them books that you and me bought so many of together (and, by the by, my dear, he wasn’t Blackberry Jones, but Blewberry) was read aloud to me by that person of the name of Silas Wegg aforesaid.”
Bella, who was still on her knees at Mr. Boffin’s feet, gradually sank down into a sitting posture on the ground, as she meditated more and more thoughtfully, with her eyes upon his beaming face.
“Still,” said Bella, after this meditative pause, “there remain two things that I cannot understand. Mrs. Boffin never supposed any part of the change in Mr. Boffin to be real; did she?—You never did; did you?” asked Bella, turning to her.
“No!” returned Mrs. Boffin, with a most rotund and glowing negative.
“And yet you took it very much to heart,” said Bella. “I remember its making you very uneasy, indeed.”