“Pardon me,” returned Mrs. Wilfer, with dreadful solemnity, “but I had not finished.”
“Pray excuse me.”
“I was about to say,” pursued Mrs. Wilfer, who clearly had not had the faintest idea of saying anything more: “that when I use the term attractions, I do so with the qualification that I do not mean it in any way whatever.”
The excellent lady delivered this luminous elucidation of her views with an air of greatly obliging her hearers, and greatly distinguishing herself. Whereat Miss Bella laughed a scornful little laugh and said:
“Quite enough about this, I am sure, on all sides. Have the goodness, Mr. Rokesmith, to give my love to Mrs. Boffin—”
“Pardon me!” cried Mrs. Wilfer. “Compliments.”
“Love!” repeated Bella, with a little stamp of her foot.
“No!” said Mrs. Wilfer, monotonously. “Compliments.”
(“Say Miss Wilfer’s love, and Mrs. Wilfer’s compliments,” the Secretary proposed, as a compromise.)
“And I shall be very glad to come when she is ready for me. The sooner, the better.”
“One last word, Bella,” said Mrs. Wilfer, “before descending to the family apartment. I trust that as a child of mine you will ever be sensible that it will be graceful in you, when associating with Mr. and Mrs. Boffin upon equal terms, to remember that the Secretary, Mr. Rokesmith, as your father’s lodger, has a claim on your good word.”