wondering with droll vexation “what on earth Pa ever could have seen in Ma, to induce him to make such a little fool of himself as to ask her to have him.”
The revolving year now bringing the day round in its orderly sequence, Bella arrived in the Boffin chariot to assist at the celebration. It was the family custom when the day recurred, to sacrifice a pair of fowls on the altar of Hymen; and Bella had sent a note beforehand, to intimate that she would bring the votive offering with her. So, Bella and the fowls, by the united energies of two horses, two men, four wheels, and a plum-pudding carriage dog with as uncomfortable a collar on as if he had been George the Fourth, were deposited at the door of the parental dwelling. They were there received by Mrs. Wilfer in person, whose dignity on this, as on most special occasions, was heightened by a mysterious toothache.
“I shall not require the carriage at night,” said Bella. “I shall walk back.”
The male domestic of Mrs. Boffin touched his hat, and in the act of departure had an awful glare bestowed upon him by Mrs. Wilfer, intended to carry deep into his audacious soul the assurance that, whatever his private suspicions might be, male domestics in livery were no rarity there.
“Well, dear Ma,” said Bella, “and how do you do?”
“I am as well, Bella,” replied Mrs. Wilfer, “as can be expected.”
“Dear me, Ma,” said Bella; “you talk as if one was just born!”
“That’s exactly what Ma has been doing,” interposed Lavvy, over the maternal shoulder, “ever since we got up this morning. It’s all very well to laugh, Bella, but anything more exasperating it is impossible to conceive.”