“Do you know, John dear,” said Bella, taking him by a button of his coat, “that I sometimes, at odd moments⁠—don’t laugh, John, please.”

Nothing should induce John to do it, when she asked him not to do it.

“⁠—That I sometimes think, John, I feel a little serious.”

“Are you too much alone, my darling?”

“O dear, no, John! The time is so short that I have not a moment too much in the week.”

“Why serious, my life, then? When serious?”

“When I laugh, I think,” said Bella, laughing as she laid her head upon his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe, sir, that I feel serious now? But I do.” And she laughed again, and something glistened in her eyes.

“Would you like to be rich, pet?” he asked her coaxingly.