Oh good gracious!
Bella had but time to throw a handkerchief over the basket, when Mr Lightwood made his bow. There was something amiss with Mr Lightwood, for he was strangely grave and looked ill.
With a brief reference to the happy time when it had been his privilege to know Mrs Rokesmith as Miss Wilfer, Mr Lightwood explained what was amiss with him and why he came. He came bearing Lizzie Hexam’s earnest hope that Mrs John Rokesmith would see her married.
Bella was so fluttered by the request, and by the short narrative he had feelingly given her, that there never was a more timely smelling-bottle than John’s knock. ‘My husband,’ said Bella; ‘I’ll bring him in.’
But, that turned out to be more easily said than done; for, the instant she mentioned Mr Lightwood’s name, John stopped, with his hand upon the lock of the room door.
‘Come up stairs, my darling.’
Bella was amazed by the flush in his face, and by his sudden turning away. ‘What can it mean?’ she thought, as she accompanied him up stairs.
‘Now, my life,’ said John, taking her on his knee, ‘tell me all about it.’
All very well to say, ‘Tell me all about it;’ but John was very much confused. His attention evidently trailed off, now and then, even while Bella told him all about it. Yet she knew that he took a great interest in Lizzie and her fortunes. What could it mean?
‘You will come to this marriage with me, John dear?’