As he watched her with another covert look, he saw a certain ambitious triumph in her face which no assumed coldness could conceal.
“As we have been brought under one roof by an accidental combination of circumstances, which oddly extends itself to the new relations before us, I have taken the liberty of saying these few words. You don’t consider them intrusive I hope?” said the Secretary with deference.
“Really, Mr. Rokesmith, I can’t say what I consider them,” returned the young lady. “They are perfectly new to me, and may be founded altogether on your own imagination.”
“You will see.”
These same fields were opposite the Wilfer premises. The discreet Mrs. Wilfer now looking out of window and beholding her daughter in conference with her lodger, instantly tied up her head and came out for a casual walk.
“I have been telling Miss Wilfer,” said John Rokesmith, as the majestic lady came stalking up, “that I have become, by a curious chance, Mr. Boffin’s Secretary or man of business.”
“I have not,” returned Mrs. Wilfer, waving her gloves in her chronic state of dignity, and vague ill-usage, “the honour of any intimate acquaintance with Mr. Boffin, and it is not for me to congratulate that gentleman on the acquisition he has made.”