r house in the forest, without their
thunderous low growlings of the alarming discovery, 'Somebody's been
drinking MY milk!' It was a delicious repast; by far the most delicious
that Bella, or John Rokesmith, or even R. Wilfer had ever made. The
uncongenial oddity of its surroundings, with the two brass knobs of the
iron safe of Chicksey, Veneering, and Stobbles staring from a corner,
like the eyes of some dull dragon, only made it the more delightful.

'To think,' said the cherub, looking round the office with unspeakable
enjoyment, 'that anything of a tender nature should come off here, is
what tickles me. To think that ever I should have seen my Bella folded
in the arms of her future husband, HERE, you know!'

It was not until the cottage loaves and the milk had for some time
disappeared, and the foreshadowings of night were creeping over Mincing
Lane, that the cherub by degrees became a little nervous, and said to
Bella, as he cleared his throat:

'Hem!--Have you thought at all about your mother, my dear?'

'Yes, Pa.'

'And your sister Lavvy, for instance, my dear?'

'Yes, Pa. I think we had better not enter into particulars at home. I
think it will be quite enough to say that I had a difference with Mr
Boffin, and have left for good.'

'John Rokesmith being acquainted with your Ma, my love,' said her
father, after some slight hesitation, 'I need have no delicacy in
hinting before him that you may perhaps find your Ma a little wearing.'

'A little, patient Pa?' said Bella with a tuneful laugh: the tunefuller
for being so loving in its tone.

'Well! We'll say, strictly in confidence among ourselves, wearing;
we won't qualify it,' the cherub stoutly admitted. 'And your sister's
temper is wearing.'

'I don't mind, Pa.'

'And you must prepare yourself you know, my precious,' said her father,
with much gentleness, 'for our looking very poor and meagre at home, and
being at the best but very uncomfortable, after Mr Boffin's house.'

'I don't mind, Pa. I could bear much harder trials--for John.'

The closing words were not so softly and blushingly said but that John
heard them, and showed that he heard them by again assisting Bella to
another of those mysterious disappearances.

'Well!' said the cherub gaily, and not expressing disapproval, 'when
you--when you come back from retirement, my love, and reappear on the
surface, I think it will be time to lock up and go.'

If the counting-house of Chicksey, Ve