“I think, my dears,” observed the cherub, “that if you could make it convenient to sit one on one side of me, and the other on the other, we should get on rather more consecutively, and make things rather plainer. John Rokesmith mentioned, a while ago, that he had no present occupation.”
“None,” said Rokesmith.
“No, Pa, none,” said Bella.
“From which I argue,” proceeded the cherub, “that he has left Mr. Boffin?”
“Yes, Pa. And so—”
“Stop a bit, my dear. I wish to lead up to it by degrees. And that Mr. Boffin has not treated him well?”
“Has treated him most shamefully, dear Pa!” cried Bella with a flashing face.
“Of which,” pursued the cherub, enjoining patience with his hand, “a certain mercenary young person distantly related to myself, could not approve? Am I leading up to it right?”
“Could not approve, sweet Pa,” said Bella, with a tearful laugh and a joyful kiss.
“Upon which,” pursued the cherub, “the certain mercenary young person distantly related to myself, having previously observed and mentioned to myself that prosperity was spoiling Mr. Boffin, felt that she must not sell her sense of what was right and what was wrong, and what was true and what was false, and what was just and what was unjust, for any price that could be paid to her by anyone alive? Am I leading up to it right?”