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 waxwork; is it now?”
“People have to pay to see waxwork, 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.”