Vanity Fair
would have the benefit of your allegiance.
And I am not sure that, in spite of Rebecca's simplicity and activity,
and gentleness and untiring good humour, the shrewd old London lady,
upon whom these treasures of friendship were lavished, had not a
lurking suspicion all the while of her affectionate nurse and friend.
It must have often crossed Miss Crawley's mind that nobody does
anything for nothing. If she measured her own feeling towards the
world, she must have been pretty well able to gauge those of the world
towards herself; and perhaps she reflected that it is the ordinary lot
of people to have no friends if they themselves care for nobody.
Well, meanwhile Becky was the greatest comfort and convenience to her,
and she gave her a couple of new gowns, and an old necklace and shawl,
and showed her friendship by abusing all her intimate acquaintances to
her new confidante (than which there can't be a more touching proof of
regard), and meditated vaguely some great future benefit--to marry her
perhaps to Clump, the apothecary, or to settle her in some advantageous
way of life; or at any rate, to send her back to Queen's Crawley when
she had done with her, and the full London season had begun.
When Miss Crawley was convalescent and descended to the drawing-room,
Becky sang to her, and otherwise amused her; when she was well enough
to drive out, Becky accompanied her. And amongst the drives which they
took, whither, of all places in the world, did Miss Crawley's admirable
good-nature and friendship actually induce her to penetrate, but to
Russell Square, Bloomsbury, and the house of John Sedley, Esquire.
Ere that event, many notes had passed, as may be imagined, between the
two dear friends. During the months of Rebecca's stay in Hampshire,
the eternal friendship had (must it be owned?) suffered considerable
diminution, and grown so decrepit and feeble with old age as to
threaten demise altogether. The fact is, both girls had their own real
affairs to think of: Rebecca her advance with her employers--Amelia her
own absorbing topic. When the two girls met, and flew into each
other's arms with that impetuosity which distinguishes the behaviour of
young ladies towards each other, Rebecca performed her part of the
embrace with the most perfect briskness and energy. Poor little Amelia
blushed as she kissed her friend, and thought she had been guilty of
something very like coldness towards her.
Their first interview was but a very short one. Amelia was just ready
to go out for a walk. Miss Crawley was waiting in her carriage below,
her people wondering at the locality in which they found themselves,
and gazing upon honest Sambo, the black footman of Bloomsbury, as one
of the queer natives of the place. But when Amelia came down with her
kind smiling looks (Rebecca must introduce her to her friend, Miss
Crawley was longing to see her, and was too ill to leave her
carriage)--when, I say, Amelia came down, the Park Lane shoulder-knot
aristocracy wondered more and more that such a thing could come out of
Bloomsbury; and Miss Crawley was fairly captivated by the sweet
blushing face of the young lady who came forward so timidly and so
gracefully to pay her respects to the protector of her friend.
"What a complexion, my dear! What a sweet voice!" Miss Crawley said, as
they drove away westward after the little interview. "My dear Sharp,
your young friend is charming. Send for her to Park Lane, do you
hear?" Miss Crawley had a good taste. She liked natural manners--a
little timidity only set them off. She liked pretty faces near her; as
she liked pretty pictures and nice china. She talked of Amelia with
rapture half a dozen times that day. She mentioned her to Rawdon
Crawley, who came dutifully to partake of his aunt's chicken.
Of course, on this Rebecca instantly stated that Amelia was engaged to
be married--to a Lieutenant Osborne--a very old flame.
"Is he a man in a line-regiment?" Captain Crawley asked, remembering
after an effort, as became a guardsman, the number of the regiment,
the --th.
Rebecca thought that was the regiment. "The Captain's name," she said,
"was Captain Dobbin."
"A lanky gawky fellow," said Crawley, "tumbles over everybody. I know
him; and Osborne's a goodish-looking fellow, with large black whiskers?"
"Enormous," Miss Rebecca Sharp said, "and enormously proud of them, I
assure you."
Captain Rawdon Crawley burst into a horse-laugh by way of reply; and
being pressed by the ladies to explain, did so when the explosion of
hilarity was over. "He fancies he can play at billiards," said he. "I
won two hundred of him at the Cocoa-Tree. HE play, the young flat!
He'd have played for anything that day, but his friend Captain Dobbin
carried him off, hang him!"
"Rawdon, Rawdon, don't be so wicked," Miss Crawley remarked, highly
pleased.
"Why, ma'am, of all the young fellows I've seen out of the line, I
think this fellow's the greenest. Tarquin and Deuceace get what money
they like out of him. He'd go to the deuce to be seen with a lord. He
pays their dinners at Greenwich, and they invite the company."
"And very pretty company too, I dare say."
"Quite right, Miss Sharp. Right, as usual, Miss Sharp. Uncommon pretty
company--haw, haw!" and the Captain laughed more and more, thinking he
had made a good joke.
"Rawdon, don't be naughty!" his aunt exclaimed.
"Well, his father's a City man--immensely rich, they say. Hang those
City fellows, they must bleed; and I've not done with him yet, I can
tell you. Haw, haw!"
"Fie, Captain Crawley; I shall warn Amelia. A gambling husband!"
"Horrid, ain't he, hey?" the Captain said with great solemnity; and
then added, a sudden thought having struck him: "Gad, I say, ma'am,
we'll have him here."
"Is he a presentable sort of a person?" the aunt inquired.
"Presentable?--oh, very well. You wouldn't see any difference,"
Captain Crawley answered. "Do let's have him, when you begin to see a
few people; and his whatdyecallem--his inamorato--eh, Miss Sharp;
that's what you call it--comes. Gad, I'll write him a note, and have
him; and I'll try if he can play piquet as well as billiards. Where
does he live, Miss Sharp?"
Miss Sharp told Crawley the Lieutenant's town address; and a few days
after this conversation, Lieutenant Osborne received a letter, in
Captain Rawdon's schoolboy hand, and enclosing a note of invitation
from Miss Crawley.
Rebecca despatched also an invitation to her darling Amelia, who, you
may be sure, was ready enough to accept it when she heard that George
was to be of the party. It was arranged that Amelia was to spend the
morning with the ladies of Park Lane, where all were very kind to her.
Rebecca patronised her with calm superiority: she was so much the
cleverer of the two, and her friend so gentle and unassuming, that she
always yielded when anybody chose to command, and so took Rebecca's
orders with perfect meekness and good humour. Miss Crawley's
graciousness was also remarkable. She continued her raptures about
little Amelia, talked about her before her face as if she were a doll,
or a servant, or a picture, and admired her with the most benevolent
wonder possible. I admire that admiration which the genteel world
sometimes extends to the commonalty. There is no more agreeable object
in life than to see Mayfair folks condescending. Miss Crawley's
prodigious benevolence rather fatigued poor little Amelia, and I am not
sure that of the three ladies in Park Lane she did not find honest Miss
Briggs the most agreeable. She sympathised with Briggs as with all
neglected or gentle people: she wasn't what you call a woman of spirit.
George came to dinner--a repast en garcon with Captain Crawley.
The great family coach of the Osbornes transported him to Park Lane
from Russell Square; where the young ladies, who were not themselves
invited, and professed the greatest indifference at that slight,
nevertheless looked at Sir Pitt Crawley's name in the baronetage; and
learned everything which that work had to teach about the Crawley
family and their pedigree, and the Binkies, their relatives, &c., &c.
Rawdon Crawley received George Osborne with great frankness and
graciousness: praised his play at billiards: asked him when he would
have his revenge: was interested about Osborne's regiment: and would
have proposed piquet to him that very evening, but Miss Crawley
absolutely forbade any gambling in her house; so that the young
Lieutenant's purse was not lightened by his gallant patron, for that
day at least. However, they made an engagement for the next,
somewhere: to look at a horse that Crawley had to sell, and to try him
in the Park; and to dine together, and to pass the evening with some
jolly fellows. "That is, if you're not on duty to that pretty Miss
Sedley," Crawley said, with a knowing wink. "Monstrous nice girl, 'pon
my honour, though, Osborne," he was good enough to add. "Lots of tin,
I suppose, eh?"
Osborne wasn't on duty; he would join Crawley with pleasure: and the
latter, when they met the next day, praised his new friend's
horsemanship--as he might with perfect honesty--and introduced him to
three or four young men of the first fashion, whose acquaintance
immensely elated the simple young officer.
"How's little Miss Sharp, by-the-bye?" Osborne inquired of his friend
over their wine, with a dandified air. "Good-natured little girl that.
Does she suit you well at Queen's Crawley? Miss Sedley liked her a good
deal last year."
Captain Crawley looked savagely at the Lieutenant out of his little
blue eyes, and watched him when he went up to resume his acquaintance
with the fair governess. Her conduct must have relieved Crawley if
there was any jealousy in the bosom of that life-guardsman.
When the young men went upstairs, and after Osborne's introduction to
Miss Crawley, he walked up to Rebecca with a patronising, easy swagger.
He was going to be kind to her and protect her. He would even shake
hands with her, as a friend of Amelia's; and saying, "Ah, Miss Sharp!
how-dy-doo?" held out his left hand towards her, expecting that she
would be quite confounded at the honour.
Miss Sharp put out her right forefinger, and gave him a little nod, so
cool and killing, that Rawdon Crawley, watching the operations from the
other room, could hardly restrain his laughter as he saw the
Lieutenant's entire discomfiture; the start he gave, the pause, and the
perfect clumsiness with which he at length condescended to take the
finger which was offered for his embrace.
"She'd beat the devil, by Jove!" the Captain said, in a rapture; and
the Lieutenant, by way of beginning the conversation, agreeably asked
Rebecca how she liked her new place.
"My place?" said Miss Sharp, coolly, "how kind of you to remind me of
it! It's a tolerably good place: the wages are pretty good--not so
good as Miss Wirt's, I believe, with your sisters in Russell Square.
How are those young ladies?--not that I ought to ask."
"Why not?" Mr. Osborne said, amazed.
"Why, they never condescended to speak to me, or to ask me into their
house, whilst I was staying with Amelia; but we poor governesses, you
know, are used to slights of this sort."
"My dear Miss Sharp!" Osborne ejaculated.
"At least in some families," Rebecca continued. "You can't think what
a difference there is though. We are not so wealthy in Hampshire as
you lucky folks of the City. But then I am in a gentleman's
family--good old English stock. I suppose you know Sir Pitt's father
refused a peerage. And you see how I am treated. I am pretty
comfortable. Indeed it is rather a good place. But how very good of
you to inquire!"
Osborne was quite savage. The little governess patronised him and