The newly-married pair left early, so that they might walk at leisure to their starting-place from London, for Greenwich. At first they were very cheerful and talked much; but after a while, Bella fancied that her husband was turning somewhat thoughtful. So she asked him:

“John dear, what’s the matter?”

“Matter, my love?”

“Won’t you tell me,” said Bella, looking up into his face, “what you are thinking of?”

“There’s not much in the thought, my soul. I was thinking whether you wouldn’t like me to be rich?”

“You rich, John?” repeated Bella, shrinking a little.

“I mean, really rich. Say, as rich as Mr. Boffin. You would like that?”