Mrs. Boffin adding her nod and smile of welcome to Mr. Boffin’s words, Bella took her book to a chair in the fireside corner, by Mrs. Boffin’s worktable. Mr. Boffin’s station was on the opposite side.

“Now, Rokesmith,” said the Golden Dustman, so sharply rapping the table to bespeak his attention as Bella turned the leaves of her book, that she started; “where were we?”

“You were saying, sir,” returned the Secretary, with an air of some reluctance and a glance towards those others who were present, “that you considered the time had come for fixing my salary.”

“Don’t be above calling it wages, man,” said Mr. Boffin, testily. “What the deuce! I never talked of any salary when I was in service.”