Works of Charles Dickens - Charles Dickens [5613]
'John dear, what's the matter?'
'Matter, my love?'
'Won't you tell me,' said Bella, looking up into his face, 'what you are thinking of?'
'There's not much in the thought, my soul. I was thinking whether you wouldn't like me to be rich?'
'You rich, John?' repeated Bella, shrinking a little.
'I mean, really rich. Say, as rich as Mr Boffin. You would like that?'
'I should be almost afraid to try, John dear. Was he much the better for his wealth? Was I much the better for the little part I once had in it?'
'But all people are not the worse for riches, my own.'
'Most people?' Bella musingly suggested with raised eyebrows.
'Nor even most people, it may be hoped. If you were rich, for instance, you would have a great power of doing good to others.'
'Yes, sir, for instance,' Bella playfully rejoined; 'but should I exercise the power, for instance? And again, sir, for instance; should I, at the same time, have a great power of doing harm to myself?'
Laughing and pressing her arm, he retorted: 'But still, again for instance; would you exercise that power?'
'I don't know,' said Bella, thoughtfully shaking her head. 'I hope not. I think not. But it's so easy to hope not and think not, without the riches.'
'Why don't you say, my darling--instead of that phrase--being poor?' he asked, looking earnestly at her.
'Why don't I say, being poor! Because I am not poor. Dear John, it's not possible that you suppose I think we are poor?'
'I do, my love.'
'Oh John!'
'Understand me, sweetheart. I know that I am rich beyond all wealth in having you; but I think OF you, and think FOR you. In such a dress as you are wearing now, you first charmed me, and in no dress could you ever look, to my thinking, more graceful or more beautiful. But you have admired many finer dresses this very day; and is it not natural that I wish I could give them to you?'
'It's very nice that you should wish it, John. It brings these tears of grateful pleasure into my eyes, to hear you say so with such tenderness. But I don't want them.'
'Again,' he pursued, 'we are now walking through the muddy streets. I love those pretty feet so dearly, that I feel as if I could not bear the dirt to soil the sole of your shoe. Is it not natural that I wish you could ride in a carriage?'
'It's very nice,' said Bella, glancing downward at the feet in question, 'to know that you admire them so much, John dear, and since you do, I am sorry that these shoes are a full size too large. But I don't want a carriage, believe me.'
'You would like one if you could have one, Bella?'
'I shouldn't like it for its own sake, half so well as such a wish for it. Dear John, your wishes are as real to me as the wishes in the Fairy story, that were all fulfilled as soon as spoken. Wish me everything that you can wish for the woman you dearly love, and I have as good as got it, John. I have better than got it, John!'
They were not the less happy for such talk, and home was not the less home for coming after it. Bella was fast developing a perfect genius for home. All the loves and graces seemed (her husband thought) to have taken domestic service with her, and to help her to make home engaging.
Her married life glided happily on. She was alone all day, for, after an early breakfast her husband repaired every morning to the City, and did not return until their late dinner hour. He was 'in a China house,' he explained to Bella: which she found quite satisfactory, without pursuing the China house into minuter details than a wholesale vision of tea, rice, odd-smelling silks, carved boxes, and tight-eyed people in more than double-soled shoes, with their pigtails pulling their heads of hair off, painted on transparent porcelain. She always walked with her husband to the railroad, and was always there again to meet him; her old coquettish ways a little sobered down (but not much), and her dress as daintily managed as if she managed