‘Just so,’ said the Secretary.
‘In confidence, I assure you, Mr Rokesmith,’ observed the cheerful cherub, ‘that when more of my family were at home and to be provided for, I used to remind myself immensely of that king. You have no idea, as a single man, of the difficulty I have had in wearing more than one good article at a time.’
‘I can easily believe it, Mr Wilfer.’
‘I only mention it,’ said R. W. in the warmth of his heart, ‘as a proof of the amiable, delicate, and considerate affection of my daughter Bella. If she had been a little spoilt, I couldn’t have thought so very much of it, under the circumstances. But no, not a bit. And she is so very pretty! I hope you agree with me in finding her very pretty, Mr Rokesmith?’
‘Certainly I do. Every one must.’
‘I hope so,’ said the cherub. ‘Indeed, I have no doubt of it. This is a great advancement for her in life, Mr Rokesmith. A great opening of her prospects?’
‘Miss Wilfer could have no better friends than Mr and Mrs Boffin.’
‘Impossible!’ said the gratified cherub. ‘Really I begin to think things are very well as they are. If Mr John Harmon had lived—’
‘He is better dead,’ said the Secretary.
‘No, I won’t go so far as to say that,’ urged the cherub, a little remonstrant against the very decisive and unpitying tone; ‘but he mightn’t have suited Bella, or Bella mightn’t have suited him, or fifty things, whereas now I hope she can choose for herself.’