Bella broke from her at length, and was going weeping out of the room, when in her own little queer affectionate way, she half relented towards Mr. Boffin.

“I am very glad,” sobbed Bella, “that I called you names, sir, because you richly deserved it. But I am very sorry that I called you names, because you used to be so different. Say goodbye!”

“Goodbye,” said Mr. Boffin, shortly.

“If I knew which of your hands was the least spoilt, I would ask you to let me touch it,” said Bella, “for the last time. But not because I repent of what I have said to you. For I don’t. It’s true!”

“Try the left hand,” said Mr. Boffin, holding it out in a stolid manner; “it’s the least used.”