‘I suppose,’ faltered Bella, ‘that we are both commissioned, or we shouldn’t both be here?’
‘I suppose so,’ was the Secretary’s answer.
‘When I proposed to come with Mr and Mrs Milvey,’ said Bella, ‘Mrs Boffin urged me to do so, in order that I might give her my small report—it’s not worth anything, Mr Rokesmith, except for it’s being a woman’s—which indeed with you may be a fresh reason for it’s being worth nothing—of Lizzie Hexam.’
‘Mr Boffin,’ said the Secretary, ‘directed me to come for the same purpose.’
As they spoke they were leaving the little street and emerging on the wooded landscape by the river.
‘You think well of her, Mr Rokesmith?’ pursued Bella, conscious of making all the advances.
‘I think highly of her.’
‘I am so glad of that! Something quite refined in her beauty, is there not?’
‘Her appearance is very striking.’
‘There is a shade of sadness upon her that is quite touching. At least I—I am not setting up my own poor opinion, you know, Mr Rokesmith,’ said Bella, excusing and explaining herself in a pretty shy way; ‘I am consulting you.’