Mr.Tomkins
,
at
the
surgery
,
who
always
looked
at
her
so
at
church
,
and
who
,
by
those
mere
aggressive
glances
had
put
her
timorous
little
heart
into
such
a
flutter
that
she
was
ready
to
surrender
at
once
,
—
what
she
should
do
if
he
were
to
die
?
She
knew
he
was
consumptive
,
his
cheeks
were
so
red
,
and
he
was
so
uncommon
thin
in
the
waist
.
Not
that
Emmy
,
being
made
aware
of
the
honest
Major’s
passion
,
rebuffed
him
in
any
way
,
or
felt
displeased
with
him
.
Such
an
attachment
from
so
true
and
loyal
a
gentleman
could
make
no
woman
angry
.
Desdemona
was
not
angry
with
Cassio
,
though
there
is
very
little
doubt
she
saw
the
Lieutenant’s
partiality
for
her
(
and
I
for
my
part
believe
that
many
more
things
took
place
in
that
sad
affair
than
the
worthy
Moorish
officer
ever
knew
of
)
;
why
,
Miranda
was
even
very
kind
to
Caliban
,
and
we
may
be
pretty
sure
for
the
same
reason
.
Not
that
she
would
encourage
him
in
the
least
,
—
the
poor
uncouth
monster
—
of
course
not
.
No
more
would
Emmy
by
any
means
encourage
her
admirer
,
the
Major
.
She
would
give
him
that
friendly
regard
,
which
so
much
excellence
and
fidelity
merited
;
she
would
treat
him
with
perfect
cordiality
and
frankness
until
he
made
his
proposals
;
and
then
it
would
be
time
enough
for
her
to
speak
,
and
to
put
an
end
to
hopes
which
never
could
be
realised
.
She
slept
,
therefore
,
very
soundly
that
evening
,
after
the
conversation
with
Miss
Polly
,
and
was
more
than
ordinarily
happy
,
in
spite
of
Jos’s
delaying
.
“
I
am
glad
he
is
not
going
to
marry
that
Miss
O’Dowd
,
”
she
thought
.
“
Colonel
O’Dowd
never
could
have
a
sister
fit
for
such
an
accomplished
man
as
Major
William
.
”
Who
was
there
amongst
her
little
circle
,
who
would
make
him
a
good
wife
?
Not
Miss
Binny
,
she
was
too
old
and
ill-tempered
;
Miss
Osborne
?
—
too
old
too
.
Little
Polly
was
too
young
.
Mrs.
Osborne
could
not
find
anybody
to
suit
the
Major
before
she
went
to
sleep
.
However
,
when
the
postman
made
his
appearance
,
the
little
party
were
put
out
of
suspense
by
the
receipt
of
a
letter
from
Jos
to
his
sister
,
who
announced
,
that
he
felt
a
little
fatigued
after
his
voyage
,
and
should
not
be
able
to
move
on
that
day
,
but
that
he
would
leave
Southampton
early
the
next
morning
,
and
be
with
his
father
and
mother
at
evening
.
Amelia
,
as
she
read
out
the
letter
to
her
father
,
paused
over
the
latter
word
;
her
brother
,
it
was
clear
,
did
not
know
what
had
happened
in
the
family
.
Nor
could
he
:
for
the
fact
is
that
,
though
the
Major
rightly
suspected
that
his
travelling
companion
never
would
be
got
into
motion
in
so
short
a
space
as
twenty-four
hours
,
and
would
find
some
excuse
for
delaying
,
yet
Dobbin
had
not
written
to
Jos
to
inform
him
of
the
calamity
which
had
befallen
the
Sedley
family
;
being
occupied
in
talking
with
Amelia
until
long
after
post-hour
.
The
same
morning
brought
Major
Dobbin
a
letter
to
the
Slaughters’
Coffee
House
from
his
friend
at
Southampton
:
begging
dear
Dob
to
excuse
Jos
for
being
in
a
rage
when
awakened
the
day
before
(
he
had
a
confounded
head-ache
and
was
just
in
his
first
sleep
)
,
and
entreating
Dob
to
engage
comfortable
rooms
at
the
Slaughters’
for
Mr.
Sedley
and
his
servants
.
The
Major
had
become
necessary
to
Jos
during
the
voyage
.
He
was
attached
to
him
,
and
hung
upon
him
.
The
other
passengers
were
away
to
London
.
Young
Ricketts
and
little
Chaffers
went
away
on
the
coach
that
day
—
Ricketts
on
the
box
,
and
taking
the
reins
from
Botley
;
the
Doctor
was
off
to
his
family
at
Portsea
;
Bragg
gone
to
town
to
his
co-partners
:
and
the
first
mate
busy
in
the
unloading
of
the
Ramchunder
.
Mr.
Jos
was
very
lonely
at
Southampton
,
and
got
the
landlord
of
the
George
to
take
a
glass
of
wine
with
him
that
day
;
at
the
very
hour
at
which
Major
Dobbin
was
seated
at
the
table
of
his
father
,
Sir
William
,
where
his
sister
found
out
(
for
it
was
impossible
for
the
Major
to
tell
fibs
)
that
he
had
been
to
see
Mrs.
George
Osborne
.
Jos
was
so
comfortably
situated
in
St.
Martin’s
Lane
,
he
could
enjoy
his
hookah
there
with
such
perfect
ease
,
and
could
swagger
down
to
the
theatres
,
when
minded
,
so
agreeably
,
that
,
perhaps
,
he
would
have
remained
altogether
at
the
Slaughters’
had
not
his
friend
,
the
Major
,
been
at
his
elbow
.
That
gentleman
would
not
let
the
Bengalee
rest
until
he
had
executed
his
promise
of
having
a
home
for
Amelia
and
his
father
.
Jos
was
a
soft
fellow
in
anybody’s
hands
;
Dobbin
most
active
in
anybody’s
concerns
but
his
own
;
the
civilian
was
,
therefore
,
an
easy
victim
to
the
guileless
arts
of
this
good-natured
diplomatist
,
and
was
ready
to
do
,
to
purchase
,
hire
,
or
relinquish
whatever
his
friend
thought
fit
.
Loll
Jewab
,
of
whom
the
boys
about
St.
Martin’s
Lane
used
to
make
cruel
fun
whenever
he
showed
his
dusky
countenance
in
the
street
,
was
sent
back
to
Calcutta
in
the
Lady
Kicklebury
East
Indiaman
,
in
which
Sir
William
Dobbin
had
a
share
;
having
previously
taught
Jos’s
European
the
art
of
preparing
curries
,
pilaus
,
and
pipes
.
It
was
a
matter
of
great
delight
and
occupation
to
Jos
to
superintend
the
building
of
a
smart
chariot
,
which
he
and
the
Major
ordered
in
the
neighbouring
Long
Acre
:
and
a
pair
of
handsome
horses
were
jobbed
,
with
which
Jos
drove
about
in
state
in
the
Park
,
or
to
call
upon
his
Indian
friends
.
Amelia
was
not
seldom
by
his
side
on
these
excursions
,
when
also
Major
Dobbin
would
be
seen
in
the
back
seat
of
the
carriage
.
At
other
times
old
Sedley
and
his
daughter
took
advantage
of
it
:
and
Miss
Clapp
,
who
frequently
accompanied
her
friend
,
had
great
pleasure
in
being
recognised
as
she
sate
in
the
carriage
,
dressed
in
the
famous
yellow
shawl
,
by
the
young
gentleman
at
the
surgery
,
whose
face
might
commonly
be
seen
over
the
window-blinds
as
she
passed
.
Shortly
after
Jos’s
first
appearance
at
Brompton
,
a
dismal
scene
,
indeed
,
took
place
at
that
humble
cottage
,
at
which
the
Sedleys
had
passed
the
last
ten
years
of
their
life
.
Jos’s
carriage
(
the
temporary
one
,
not
the
chariot
under
construction
)
arrived
one
day
and
carried
off
old
Sedley
and
his
daughter
—
to
return
no
more
.
The
tears
that
were
shed
by
the
landlady
and
the
landlady’s
daughter
at
that
event
were
as
genuine
tears
of
sorrow
as
any
that
have
been
outpoured
in
the
course
of
this
history
.
In
their
long
acquaintanceship
and
intimacy
they
could
not
recall
a
harsh
word
that
had
been
uttered
by
Amelia
.
She
had
been
all
sweetness
and
kindness
,
always
thankful
,
always
gentle
,
even
when
Mrs.
Clapp
lost
her
own
temper
,
and
pressed
for
the
rent
.
When
the
kind
creature
was
going
away
for
good
and
all
,
the
landlady
reproached
herself
bitterly
for
ever
having
used
a
rough
expression
to
her
—
how
she
wept
,
as
they
stuck
up
with
wafers
on
the
window
,
a
paper
notifying
that
the
little
rooms
so
long
occupied
were
to
let
!
They
never
would
have
such
lodgers
again
,
that
was
quite
clear
.
After-life
proved
the
truth
of
this
melancholy
prophecy
:
and
Mrs.
Clapp
revenged
herself
for
the
deterioration
of
mankind
by
levying
the
most
savage
contributions
upon
the
tea-caddies
and
legs
of
mutton
of
her
locataires
.
Most
of
them
scolded
and
grumbled
;
some
of
them
did
not
pay
:
none
of
them
stayed
.
The
landlady
might
well
regret
those
old
,
old
friends
,
who
had
left
her
.
As
for
Miss
Mary
,
her
sorrow
at
Amelia’s
departure
was
such
as
I
shall
not
attempt
to
depict
.
From
childhood
upwards
she
had
been
with
her
daily
,
and
had
attached
herself
so
passionately
to
that
dear
good
lady
,
that
when
the
grand
barouche
came
to
carry
her
off
into
splendour
,
she
fainted
in
the
arms
of
her
friend
,
who
was
indeed
scarcely
less
affected
than
the
good-natured
girl
.
Amelia
loved
her
like
a
daughter
.
During
eleven
years
the
girl
had
been
her
constant
friend
and
associate
.
The
separation
was
a
very
painful
one
indeed
to
her
.
But
it
was
of
course
arranged
that
Mary
was
to
come
and
stay
often
at
the
grand
new
house
whither
Mrs.
Osborne
was
going
;
and
where
Mary
was
sure
she
would
never
be
so
happy
as
she
had
been
in
their
humble
cot
,
as
Miss
Clapp
called
it
,
in
the
language
of
the
novels
which
she
loved
.
Let
us
hope
she
was
wrong
in
her
judgment
.
Poor
Emmy’s
days
of
happiness
had
been
very
few
in
that
humble
cot
.
A
gloomy
Fate
had
oppressed
her
there
.
She
never
liked
to
come
back
to
the
house
after
she
had
left
it
,
or
to
face
the
landlady
who
had
tyrannised
over
her
when
ill-humoured
and
unpaid
,
or
when
pleased
had
treated
her
with
a
coarse
familiarity
scarcely
less
odious
.
Her
servility
and
fulsome
compliments
when
Emmy
was
in
prosperity
were
not
more
to
that
lady’s
liking
.
She
cast
about
notes
of
admiration
all
over
the
new
house
,
extolling
every
article
of
furniture
or
ornament
;
she
fingered
Mrs.
Osborne’s
dresses
,
and
calculated
their
price
.
Nothing
could
be
too
good
for
that
sweet
lady
,
she
vowed
and
protested
.
But
in
the
vulgar
sycophant
who
now
paid
court
to
her
,
Emmy
always
remembered
the
coarse
tyrant
who
had
made
her
miserable
many
a
time
,
to
whom
she
had
been
forced
to
put
up
petitions
for
time
,
when
the
rent
was
overdue
;
who
cried
out
at
her
extravagance
if
she
bought
delicacies
for
her
ailing
mother
or
father
;
who
had
seen
her
humble
and
trampled
upon
her
.
Nobody
ever
heard
of
these
griefs
,
which
had
been
part
of
our
poor
little
woman’s
lot
in
life
.
She
kept
them
secret
from
her
father
,
whose
improvidence
was
the
cause
of
much
of
her
misery
.
She
had
to
bear
all
the
blame
of
his
misdoings
,
and
indeed
was
so
utterly
gentle
and
humble
as
to
be
made
by
nature
for
a
victim
.
I
hope
she
is
not
to
suffer
much
more
of
that
hard
usage
.
And
,
as
in
all
griefs
there
is
said
to
be
some
consolation
,
I
may
mention
that
poor
Mary
,
when
left
at
her
friend’s
departure
in
a
hysterical
condition
,
was
placed
under
the
medical
treatment
of
the
young
fellow
from
the
surgery
,
under
whose
care
she
rallied
after
a
short
period
.
Emmy
,
when
she
went
away
from
Brompton
,
endowed
Mary
with
every
article
of
furniture
that
the
house
contained
:
only
taking
away
her
pictures
(
the
two
pictures
over
the
bed
)
and
her
piano
—
that
little
old
piano
which
had
now
passed
into
a
plaintive
jingling
old
age
,
but
which
she
loved
for
reasons
of
her
own
.
She
was
a
child
when
first
she
played
on
it
:
and
her
parents
gave
it
her
.
It
had
been
given
to
her
again
since
,
as
the
reader
may
remember
,
when
her
father’s
house
was
gone
to
ruin
,
and
the
instrument
was
recovered
out
of
the
wreck
.
Major
Dobbin
was
exceedingly
pleased
when
,
as
he
was
superintending
the
arrangements
of
Jos’s
new
house
,
which
the
Major
insisted
should
be
very
handsome
and
comfortable
,
the
cart
arrived
from
Brompton
,
bringing
the
trunks
and
band-boxes
of
the
emigrants
from
that
village
,
and
with
them
the
old
piano
.
Amelia
would
have
it
up
in
her
sitting-room
,
a
neat
little
apartment
on
the
second
floor
,
adjoining
her
father’s
chamber
:
and
where
the
old
gentleman
sate
commonly
of
evenings
.
When
the
men
appeared
then
bearing
this
old
music-box
,
and
Amelia
gave
orders
that
it
should
be
placed
in
the
chamber
aforesaid
,
Dobbin
was
quite
elated
.
“
I’m
glad
you’ve
kept
it
,
”
he
said
in
a
very
sentimental
manner
.
“
I
was
afraid
you
didn’t
care
about
it
.
”
“
I
value
it
more
than
anything
I
have
in
the
world
,
”
said
Amelia
.
“
Do
you
,
Amelia
?
”
cried
the
Major
.
The
fact
was
,
as
he
had
bought
it
himself
,
though
he
never
said
anything
about
it
,
it
never
entered
into
his
head
to
suppose
that
Emmy
should
think
anybody
else
was
the
purchaser
,
and
as
a
matter
of
course
he
fancied
that
she
knew
the
gift
came
from
him
.
“
Do
you
,
Amelia
?
”
he
said
;
and
the
question
,
the
great
question
of
all
,
was
trembling
on
his
lips
,
when
Emmy
replied
—
“
Can
I
do
otherwise
?
—
did
not
he
give
it
me
?
”
“
I
did
not
know
,
”
said
poor
old
Dob
,
and
his
countenance
fell
.
Emmy
did
not
note
the
circumstance
at
the
time
,
nor
take
immediate
heed
of
the
very
dismal
expression
which
honest
Dobbin’s
countenance
assumed
;
but
she
thought
of
it
afterwards
.
And
then
it
struck
her
,
with
inexpressible
pain
and
mortification
too
,
that
it
was
William
who
was
the
giver
of
the
piano
;
and
not
George
,
as
she
had
fancied
.
It
was
not
George’s
gift
;
the
only
one
which
she
had
received
from
her
lover
,
as
she
thought
—
the
thing
she
had
cherished
beyond
all
others
—
her
dearest
relic
and
prize
.
She
had
spoken
to
it
about
George
;
played
his
favourite
airs
upon
it
:
sate
for
long
evening
hours
,
touching
,
to
the
best
of
her
simple
art
,
melancholy
harmonies
on
the
keys
,
and
weeping
over
them
in
silence
.
It
was
not
George’s
relic
.
It
was
valueless
now
.
The
next
time
that
old
Sedley
asked
her
to
play
,
she
said
it
was
shockingly
out
of
tune
,
that
she
had
a
headache
,
that
she
couldn’t
play
.
Then
,
according
to
her
custom
,
she
rebuked
herself
for
her
pettishness
and
ingratitude
,
and
determined
to
make
a
reparation
to
honest
William
for
the
slight
she
had
not
expressed
to
him
,
but
had
felt
for
his
piano
.
A
few
days
afterwards
,
as
they
were
seated
in
the
drawing-room
,
where
Jos
had
fallen
asleep
with
great
comfort
after
dinner
,
Amelia
said
with
rather
a
faltering
voice
to
Major
Dobbin
,
—
“
I
have
to
beg
your
pardon
for
something
.
”
“
About
what
?
”
said
he
.
“
About
—
about
that
little
square
piano
.
I
never
thanked
you
for
it
when
you
gave
it
me
;
many
,
many
years
ago
,
before
I
was
married
.
I
thought
somebody
else
had
given
it
.
Thank
you
,
William
.
”
She
held
out
her
hand
;
but
the
poor
little
woman’s
heart
was
bleeding
;
and
as
for
her
eyes
,
of
course
they
were
at
their
work
.
But
William
could
hold
no
more
.
“
Amelia
,
Amelia
,
”
he
said
,
“
I
did
buy
it
for
you
.
I
loved
you
then
as
I
do
now
.
I
must
tell
you
.
I
think
I
loved
you
from
the
first
minute
that
I
saw
you
,
when
George
brought
me
to
your
house
,
to
show
me
the
Amelia
whom
he
was
engaged
to
.
You
were
but
a
girl
,
in
white
,
with
large
ringlets
;
you
came
down
singing
—
do
you
remember
?
—
and
we
went
to
Vauxhall
.
Since
then
I
have
thought
of
but
one
woman
in
the
world
,
and
that
was
you
.
I
think
there
is
no
hour
in
the
day
has
passed
for
twelve
years
that
I
haven’t
thought
of
you
.
I
came
to
tell
you
this
before
I
went
to
India
,
but
you
did
not
care
,
and
I
hadn’t
the
heart
to
speak
.
You
did
not
care
whether
I
stayed
or
went
.
”
“
I
was
very
ungrateful
,
”
Amelia
said
.
“
No
;
only
indifferent
,
”
Dobbin
continued
,
desperately
.
“
I
have
nothing
to
make
a
woman
to
be
otherwise
.
I
know
what
you
are
feeling
now
.
You
are
hurt
in
your
heart
at
the
discovery
about
the
piano
;
and
that
it
came
from
me
and
not
from
George
.
I
forgot
,
or
I
should
never
have
spoken
of
it
so
.
It
is
for
me
to
ask
your
pardon
for
being
a
fool
for
a
moment
,
and
thinking
that
years
of
constancy
and
devotion
might
have
pleaded
with
you
.
”
“
It
is
you
who
are
cruel
now
,
”
Amelia
said
with
some
spirit
.
“
George
is
my
husband
,
here
and
in
heaven
.
How
could
I
love
any
other
but
him
?
I
am
his
now
as
when
you
first
saw
me
,
dear
William
.
It
was
he
who
told
me
how
good
and
generous
you
were
,
and
who
taught
me
to
love
you
as
a
brother
.
Have
you
not
been
everything
to
me
and
my
boy
?
Our
dearest
,
truest
,
kindest
friend
and
protector
?
Had
you
come
a
few
months
sooner
perhaps
you
might
have
spared
me
that
—
that
dreadful
parting
.
O
,
it
nearly
killed
me
,
William
—
but
you
didn’t
come
,
though
I
wished
and
prayed
for
you
to
come
,
and
they
took
him
too
away
from
me
.
Isn’t
he
a
noble
boy
,
William
?
Be
his
friend
still
and
mine
”
—
and
here
her
voice
broke
,
and
she
hid
her
face
on
his
shoulder
.
The
Major
folded
his
arms
round
her
,
holding
her
to
him
as
if
she
was
a
child
,
and
kissed
her
head
.
“
I
will
not
change
,
dear
Amelia
,
”
he
said
.
“
I
ask
for
no
more
than
your
love
.
I
think
I
would
not
have
it
otherwise
.
Only
let
me
stay
near
you
,
and
see
you
often
.
”
“
Yes
,
often
,
”
Amelia
said
.
And
so
William
was
at
liberty
to
look
and
lon
as
the
poor
boy
at
school
who
has
no
money
may
sigh
after
the
contents
of
the
tart-woman’s
tray
.
XXV
.
Returns
to
the
Genteel
World
GOOD
fortune
now
begins
to
smile
upon
Amelia
.
We
are
glad
to
get
her
out
of
that
low
sphere
in
which
she
has
been
creeping
hitherto
,
and
introduce
her
into
a
polite
circle
;
not
so
grand
and
refined
as
that
in
which
our
other
female
friend
,
Mrs.
Becky
,
has
appeared
,
but
still
having
no
small
pretensions
to
gentility
and
fashion
.
Jos’s
friends
were
all
from
the
three
presidencies
,
and
his
new
house
was
in
the
comfortable
Anglo-Indian
district
of
which
Moira
Place
is
the
centre
.
Minto
Square
,
Great
Clive
Street
,
Warren
Street
,
Hastings
Street
,
Ochterlony
Place
,
Plassy
Square
,
Assaye
Terrace
(
“
Gardens
”
was
a
felicitous
word
not
applied
to
stucco
houses
with
asphalte
terraces
in
front
,
so
early
as
1827
)
—
who
does
not
know
these
respectable
abodes
of
the
retired
Indian
aristocracy
,
and
the
quarter
which
Mr.
Wenham
calls
the
Black
Hole
,
in
a
word
?
Jos’s
position
in
life
was
not
grand
enough
to
entitle
him
to
a
house
in
Moira
Place
,
where
none
can
live
but
retired
Members
of
Council
,
and
partners
of
Indian
firms
(
who
break
after
having
settled
a
hundred
thousand
pounds
on
their
wives
,
and
retire
into
comparative
penury
to
a
country
place
and
four
thousand
a
year
)
:
he
engaged
a
comfortable
house
of
a
second
or
third-rate
order
in
Gillespie
Street
,
purchasing
the
carpets
,
costly
mirrors
,
and
handsome
and
appropriate
planned
furniture
by
Seddons
,
from
the
assignees
of
Mr.
Scape
,
lately
admitted
partner
into
the
great
Calcutta
House
of
Fogle
,
Fake
,
and
Cracksman
,
in
which
poor
Scape
had
embarked
seventy
thousand
pounds
,
the
earnings
of
a
long
and
honourable
life
,
taking
Fake’s
place
,
who
retired
to
a
princely
Park
in
Sussex
,
(
the
Fogles
have
been
long
out
of
the
firm
,
and
Sir
Horace
Fogle
is
about
to
be
raised
to
the
peerage
as
Baron
Bandanna
)
—
admitted
,
I
say
,
partner
into
the
great
agency
house
of
Fogle
and
Fake
two
years
before
it
failed
for
a
million
,
and
plunged
half
the
Indian
public
into
misery
and
ruin
.
Scape
,
ruined
,
honest
,
and
broken-hearted
at
sixty-five
years
of
age
,
went
out
to
Calcutta
to
wind
up
the
affairs
of
the
house
.
Walter
Scape
was
withdrawn
from
Eton
,
and
put
into
a
merchant’s
house
.
Florence
Scape
,
Fanny
Scape
,
and
their
mother
faded
away
to
Boulogne
,
and
will
be
heard
of
no
more
.
To
be
brief
,
Jos
stepped
in
and
bought
their
carpets
and
sideboards
,
and
admired
himself
in
the
mirrors
which
had
reflected
their
kind
handsome
faces
.
The
Scape
tradesmen
,
all
honourably
paid
,
left
their
cards
,
and
were
eager
to
supply
the
new
household
.
The
large
men
in
white
waistcoats
,
who
waited
at
Scape’s
dinners
,
green-grocers
,
bank-porters
,
and
milkmen
in
their
private
capacity
,
left
their
addresses
,
and
ingratiated
themselves
with
the
butler
.
Mr.
Chummy
,
the
chimney-purifier
,
who
had
swep
the
last
three
families
,
tried
to
coax
the
butler
and
the
boy
under
him
,
whose
duty
it
was
to
go
out
covered
with
buttons
and
stripes
down
his
trowsers
,
for
the
protection
of
Mrs.
Amelia
whenever
she
chose
to
walk
abroad
.
It
was
a
modest
establishment
.
The
butler
was
Jos’s
valet
also
,
and
never
was
more
drunk
than
a
butler
in
a
small
family
should
be
who
has
a
proper
regard
for
his
master’s
wine
.
Emmy
was
supplied
with
a
maid
,
grown
on
Sir
William
Dobbin’s
suburban
estate
;
a
good
girl
,
whose
kindness
and
humility
disarmed
Mrs.
Osborne
,
who
was
at
first
terrified
at
the
idea
of
having
a
servant
to
wait
upon
herself
,
who
did
not
in
the
least
know
how
to
use
one
,
and
who
always
spoke
to
domestics
with
the
most
reverential
politeness
.
But
this
maid
was
very
useful
in
the
family
,
in
dexterously
tending
old
Mr.
Sedley
,
who
kept
almost
entirely
to
his
own
quarter
of
the
house
,
and
never
mixed
in
any
of
the
gay
doings
which
took
place
there
.
Numbers
of
people
came
to
see
Mrs.
Osborne
.
Lady
Dobbin
and
daughters
were
delighted
at
her
change
of
fortune
,
and
waited
upon
her
.
Miss
Osborne
from
Russell
Square
came
in
her
grand
chariot
with
the
flaming
hammer-cloth
emblazoned
with
the
Leeds
arms
.
Jos
was
reported
to
be
immensely
rich
.
Old
Osborne
had
no
objection
that
Georgy
should
inherit
his
uncle’s
property
as
well
as
his
own
.
“
Damn
it
,
we
will
make
a
man
of
the
feller
,
”
he
said
;
“
and
I’ll
see
him
in
Parliament
before
I
die
.
You
may
go
and
see
his
mother
,
Miss
O
.
,
though
I’ll
never
set
eyes
on
her
:
”
and
Miss
Osborne
came
.
Emmy
,
you
may
be
sure
,
was
very
glad
to
see
her
,
and
so
be
brought
nearer
to
George
.
That
young
fellow
was
allowed
to
come
much
more
frequently
than
before
to
visit
his
mother
.
He
dined
once
or
twice
a
week
in
Gillespie
Street
,
and
bullied
the
servants
and
his
relations
there
,
just
as
he
did
in
Russell
Square
He
was
always
respectful
to
Major
Dobbin
,
however
,
and
more
modest
in
his
demeanour
when
that
gentleman
was
present
.
He
was
a
clever
lad
,
and
afraid
of
the
Major
.
George
could
not
help
admiring
his
friend’s
simplicity
,
his
good-humour
,
his
various
learning
quietly
imparted
,
his
general
love
of
truth
and
justice
.
He
had
met
no
such
man
as
yet
in
the
course
of
his
experience
,
and
he
had
an
instinctive
liking
for
a
gentleman
.
He
hung
fondly
by
his
godfather’s
side
;
and
it
was
his
delight
to
walk
in
the
Parks
and
hear
Dobbin
talk
.
William
told
George
about
his
father
,
about
India
and
Waterloo
,
about
everything
but
himself
.
When
George
was
more
than
usually
pert
and
conceited
,
the
Major
made
jokes
at
him
,
which
Mrs.
Osborne
thought
very
cruel
.
One
day
,
taking
him
to
the
play
,
and
the
boy
declining
to
go
into
the
pit
because
it
was
vulgar
,
the
Major
took
him
to
the
boxes
,
left
him
there
,
and
went
down
himself
to
the
pit
.
He
had
not
been
seated
there
very
long
,
before
he
felt
an
arm
thrust
under
him
,
and
a
dandy
little
hand
in
a
kid-glove
squeezing
his
arm
.
George
had
seen
the
absurdity
of
his
ways
,
and
come
down
from
the
upper
region
.
A
tender
laugh
of
benevolence
lighted
up
old
Dobbin’s
face
and
eyes
as
he
looked
at
the
repentant
little
prodigal
.
He
loved
the
boy
,
as
he
did
everything
that
belonged
to
Amelia
.
How
charmed
she
was
when
she
heard
of
this
instance
of
George’s
goodness
!
Her
eyes
looked
more
kindly
on
Dobbin
than
they
ever
had
done
.
She
blushed
,
he
thought
,
after
looking
at
him
so
.
Georgy
never
tired
of
his
praises
of
the
Major
to
his
mother
.
“
I
like
him
,
Mamma
,
because
he
knows
such
lots
of
things
;
and
he
ain’t
like
old
Veal
,
who
is
always
bragging
and
using
such
long
words
,
don’t
you
know
?
The
chaps
call
him
‘Longtail’
at
school
.
I
gave
him
the
name
;
ain’t
it
capital
?
But
Dob
reads
Latin
like
English
,
and
French
and
that
;
and
when
we
go
out
together
he
tells
me
stories
about
my
Papa
,
and
never
about
himself
;
though
I
heard
Colonel
Buckler
,
at
Grandpapa’s
,
say
that
he
was
one
of
the
bravest
officers
in
the
army
,
and
had
distinguished
himself
ever
so
much
.
Grandpapa
was
quite
surprised
,
and
said
,
‘
That
feller
!
why
,
I
didn’t
think
he
could
say
Bo
to
a
goose’
—
but
I
know
he
could
,
couldn’t
he
,
Mamma
?
”
Emmy
laughed
:
she
thought
it
was
very
likely
the
Major
could
do
thus
much
.
If
there
was
a
sincere
liking
between
George
and
the
Major
,
it
must
be
confessed
that
between
the
boy
and
his
uncle
no
great
love
existed
.
George
had
got
a
way
of
blowing
out
his
cheeks
,
and
putting
his
hands
in
his
waistcoat
pockets
,
and
saying
,
“
God
bless
my
soul
,
you
don’t
say
so
,
”
so
exactly
after
the
fashion
of
old
Jos
,
that
it
was
impossible
to
refrain
from
laughter
.
The
servants
would
explode
at
dinner
if
the
lad
,
asking
for
something
which
wasn’t
at
table
,
put
on
that
countenance
and
used
that
favourite
phrase
.
Even
Dobbin
would
shoot
out
a
sudden
peal
at
the
boy’s
mimicry
.
If
George
did
not
mimic
his
uncle
to
his
face
,
it
was
only
by
Dobbin’s
rebukes
and
Amelia’s
terrified
entreaties
that
the
little
scapegrace
was
induced
to
desist
.
And
the
worthy
civilian
being
haunted
by
a
dim
consciousness
that
the
lad
thought
him
an
ass
,
and
was
inclined
to
turn
him
into
ridicule
,
used
to
be
extremely
timorous
and
,
of
course
,
doubly
pompous
and
dignified
in
the
presence
of
Master
Georgy
.
When
it
was
announced
that
the
young
gentleman
was
expected
in
Gillespie
Street
to
dine
with
his
mother
,
Mr.
Jos
commonly
found
that
he
had
an
engagement
at
the
Club
.
Perhaps
nobody
was
much
grieved
at
his
absence
.
On
those
days
Mr.
Sedley
would
commonly
be
induced
to
come
out
from
his
place
of
refuge
in
the
upper
storeys
;
and
there
would
be
a
small
family
party
,
whereof
Major
Dobbin
pretty
generally
formed
one
.
He
was
the
ami
de
la
maison
;
old
Sedley’s
friend
,
Emmy’s
friend
,
Georgy’s
friend
,
Jos’s
counsel
and
adviser
.
“
He
might
almost
as
well
be
at
Madras
for
anything
we
see
of
him
,
”
Miss
Ann
Dobbin
remarked
,
at
Camberwell
.
Ah
!
Miss
Ann
,
did
it
not
strike
you
that
it
was
not
you
whom
the
Major
wanted
to
marry
?
Joseph
Sedley
then
led
a
life
of
dignified
otiosity
such
as
became
a
person
of
his
eminence
.
His
very
first
point
,
of
course
,
was
to
become
a
member
of
the
Oriental
Club
;
where
he
spent
his
mornings
in
the
company
of
his
brother
Indians
,
where
he
dined
,
or
whence
he
brought
home
men
to
dine
.
Amelia
had
to
receive
and
entertain
these
gentlemen
and
their
ladies
.
From
these
she
heard
how
soon
Smith
would
be
in
Council
;
how
many
lacs
Jones
had
brought
home
with
him
,
how
Thomson’s
House
in
London
had
refused
the
bills
drawn
by
Thomson
,
Kibobjee
,
and
Co.
,
the
Bombay
House
,
and
how
it
was
thought
the
Calcutta
House
must
go
too
:
how
very
imprudent
,
to
say
the
least
of
it
,
Mrs.
Brown’s
conduct
(
wife
of
Brown
of
the
Ahmednuggur
Irregulars
)
had
been
with
young
Swankey
of
the
Body
Guard
,
sitting
up
with
him
on
deck
until
all
hours
,
and
losing
themselves
as
they
were
riding
out
at
the
Cape
;
how
Mrs.
Hardyman
had
had
out
her
thirteen
sisters
,
daughters
of
a
country
curate
,
the
Rev.
Felix
Rabbits
,
and
married
eleven
of
them
,
seven
high
up
in
the
service
:
how
Hornby
was
wild
because
his
wife
would
stay
in
Europe
,
and
Trotter
was
appointed
Collector
at
Ummerapoora
.
This
and
similar
talk
took
place
,
at
the
grand
dinners
all
round
.
They
had
the
same
conversation
;
the
same
silver
dishes
;
the
same
saddles
of
mutton
,
boiled
turkeys
,
and
entrées
.
Politics
set
in
a
short
time
after
dessert
,
when
the
ladies
retired
upstairs
and
talked
about
their
complaints
and
their
children
.
Mutato
nomine
,
it
is
all
the
same
.
Don’t
the
barristers’
wives
talk
about
Circuit
?
—
Don’t
the
soldiers’
ladies
gossip
about
the
Regiment
?
—
don’t
the
clergymen’s
ladies
discourse
about
Sunday
Schools
,
and
who
takes
whose
duty
?
—
don’t
the
very
greatest
ladies
of
all
talk
about
that
small
clique
of
persons
to
whom
they
belong
,
and
why
should
our
Indian
friends
not
have
their
own
conversation
?
—
only
I
admit
it
is
slow
for
the
laymen
whose
fate
it
sometimes
is
to
sit
by
and
listen
.
Before
long
Emmy
had
a
visiting
book
,
and
was
driving
about
regularly
in
a
carriage
,
calling
upon
Lady
Bludyer
(
wife
of
Major-General
Sir
Roger
Bludyer
,
K.C.B.
,
Bengal
Army
)
;
Lady
Huff
,
wife
of
Sir
G
.
Huff
,
Bombay
ditto
;
Mrs.
Pice
,
the
Lady
of
Pice
the
Director
,
etc.
We
are
not
long
in
using
ourselves
to
changes
in
life
.
That
carriage
came
round
to
Gillespie
Street
every
day
:
that
buttony
boy
sprang
up
and
down
from
the
box
with
Emmy’s
and
Jos’s
visiting-cards
;
at
stated
hours
Emmy
and
the
carriage
went
for
Jos
to
the
Club
,
and
took
him
an
airing
;
or
,
putting
old
Sedley
into
the
vehicle
,
she
drove
the
old
man
round
the
Regent’s
Park
.
The
lady’s
maid
and
the
chariot
,
the
visiting-book
and
the
buttony
page
,
became
soon
as
familiar
to
Amelia
as
the
humble
routine
of
Brompton
.
She
accommodated
herself
to
one
as
to
the
other
.
If
Fate
had
ordained
that
she
should
be
a
duchess
,
she
would
even
have
done
that
duty
,
too
She
was
voted
,
in
Jos’s
female
society
,
rather
a
pleasing
young
person
—
not
much
in
her
,
but
pleasing
,
and
that
sort
of
thing
.
The
men
,
as
usual
,
liked
her
artless
kindness
and
simple
refined
demeanour
.
The
gallant
young
Indian
dandies
at
home
on
furlough
—
immense
dandies
these
—
chained
and
moustached
—
driving
in
tearing
cabs
,
the
pillars
of
the
theatres
,
living
at
West
End
hotels
,
—
nevertheless
admired
Mrs.
Osborne
,
liked
to
bow
to
her
carriage
in
the
Park
,
and
to
be
admitted
to
have
the
honour
of
paying
her
a
morning
visit
.
Swankey
of
the
Body
Guard
himself
,
that
dangerous
youth
,
and
the
greatest
buck
of
all
the
Indian
army
now
on
leave
,
was
one
day
discovered
by
Major
Dobbin
tête-à-tête
with
Amelia
,
and
describing
the
sport
of
pigsticking
to
her
with
great
humour
and
eloquence
;
and
he
spoke
afterwards
of
and
—
d
king’s
officer
that’s
always
hanging
about
the
house
—
a
long
,
thin
,
queer-looking
,
oldish
fellow
—
a
dry
fellow
though
,
that
took
the
shine
out
of
a
man
in
the
talking
line
.
Had
the
Major
possessed
a
little
more
personal
vanity
he
would
have
been
jealous
of
so
dangerous
a
young
buck
as
that
fascinating
Bengal
Captain
.
But
Dobbin
was
of
too
simple
and
generous
a
nature
to
have
any
doubts
about
Amelia
.
He
was
glad
that
the
young
men
should
pay
her
respect
;
and
that
others
should
admire
her
.
Ever
since
her
womanhood
almost
,
had
she
not
been
persecuted
and
undervalued
?
It
pleased
him
to
see
how
kindness
brought
out
her
good
qualities
,
and
how
her
spirits
gently
rose
with
her
prosperity
.
Any
person
who
appreciated
her
paid
a
compliment
to
the
Major’s
good
judgment
—
that
is
,
if
a
man
may
be
said
to
have
good
judgment
who
is
under
the
influence
of
Love’s
delusion
.
After
Jos
went
to
Court
,
which
we
may
be
sure
he
did
as
a
loyal
subject
of
his
Sovereign
(
showing
himself
in
his
full
court
suit
at
the
Club
,
whither
Dobbin
came
to
fetch
him
in
a
very
shabby
old
uniform
)
he
who
had
always
been
a
staunch
Loyalist
and
admirer
of
George
IV
.
,
became
such
a
tremendous
Tory
and
pillar
of
the
State
,
that
he
was
for
having
Amelia
to
go
to
a
Drawing-room
,
too
.
He
somehow
had
worked
himself
up
to
believe
that
he
was
implicated
in
the
maintenance
of
the
public
welfare
,
and
that
the
Sovereign
would
not
be
happy
unless
Jos
Sedley
and
his
family
appeared
to
rally
round
him
at
St.
James’s
.
Emmy
laughed
.
“
Shall
I
wear
the
family
diamonds
,
Jos
?
”
she
said
.
“
I
wish
you
would
let
me
buy
you
some
,
”
thought
the
Major
.
“
I
should
like
to
see
any
that
were
too
good
for
you
.
”
XXVI
.
In
Which
Two
Lights
Are
Put
Out
THERE
came
a
day
when
the
round
of
decorous
pleasures
and
solemn
gaieties
in
which
Mr.
Jos
Sedley’s
family
indulged
was
interrupted
by
an
event
which
happens
in
most
houses
.
As
you
ascend
the
staircase
of
your
house
from
the
drawing
towards
the
bed-room
floors
,
you
may
have
remarked
a
little
arch
in
the
wall
right
before
you
,
which
at
once
gives
light
to
the
stair
which
leads
from
the
second
storey
to
the
third
(
where
the
nursery
and
servants’
chambers
commonly
are
)
and
serves
for
another
purpose
of
utility
,
of
which
the
undertaker’s
men
can
give
you
a
notion
.
They
rest
the
coffins
upon
that
arch
,
or
pass
them
through
it
so
as
not
to
disturb
in
any
unseemly
manner
the
cold
tenant
slumbering
within
the
black
ark.
That
second-floor
arch
in
a
London
house
,
looking
up
and
down
the
well
of
the
staircase
,
and
commanding
the
main
thoroughfare
by
which
the
inhabitants
are
passing
;
by
which
cook
lurks
down
before
daylight
to
scour
her
pots
and
pans
in
the
kitchen
;
by
which
young
master
stealthily
ascends
,
having
left
his
boots
in
the
hall
,
and
let
himself
in
after
dawn
from
a
jolly
night
at
the
Club
;
down
which
miss
comes
rustling
in
fresh
ribbons
and
spreading
muslins
,
brilliant
and
beautiful
,
and
prepared
for
conquest
and
the
ball
;
or
Master
Tommy
slides
,
preferring
the
bannisters
for
a
mode
of
conveyance
,
and
disdaining
danger
and
the
stair
;
down
which
the
mother
is
fondly
carried
smiling
in
her
strong
husband’s
arms
,
as
he
steps
steadily
step
by
step
,
and
followed
by
the
monthly
nurse
,
on
the
day
when
the
medical
man
has
pronounced
that
the
charming
patient
may
go
downstairs
;
up
which
John
lurks
to
bed
,
yawning
,
with
a
sputtering
tallow
candle
,
and
to
gather
up
before
sunrise
the
boots
which
are
awaiting
him
in
the
passages
;
—
that
stair
,
up
or
down
which
babies
are
carried
,
old
people
are
helped
,
guests
are
marshalled
to
the
ball
,
the
parson
walks
to
the
christening
the
doctor
to
the
sick-room
,
and
the
undertaker’s
men
to
the
upper
floor-what
a
memento
of
Life
,
Death
,
and
Vanity
it
is
,
that
arch
and
stair
—
if
you
choose
to
consider
it
,
and
sit
on
the
landing
,
looking
up
and
down
the
well
!
The
doctor
will
come
up
to
us
too
for
the
last
time
there
,
my
friend
in
motley
.
The
nurse
will
look
in
at
the
curtains
,
and
you
take
no
notice
—
and
then
she
will
fling
open
the
windows
for
a
little
,
and
let
in
the
air
.
Then
they
will
pull
down
all
the
front
blinds
of
the
house
and
live
in
the
back
rooms
—
then
they
will
send
for
the
lawyer
and
other
men
in
black
,
etc.
—
Your
comedy
and
mine
will
have
been
played
then
,
and
we
shall
be
removed
,
O
how
far
,
from
the
trumpets
,
and
the
shouting
,
and
the
posture-making
.
If
we
are
gentlefolks
they
will
put
hatchments
over
our
late
domicile
,
with
gilt
cherubim
,
and
mottoes
stating
that
there
is
“
Quiet
in
Heaven
.
”
Your
son
will
new
furnish
the
house
,
or
perhaps
let
it
,
and
go
into
a
more
modern
quarter
;
your
name
will
be
among
the
“
Members
Deceased
”
in
the
lists
of
your
clubs
next
year
.
However
much
you
may
be
mourned
,
your
widow
will
like
to
have
her
weeds
neatly
made
—
the
cook
will
send
or
come
up
to
ask
about
dinner
—
the
survivor
will
soon
bear
to
look
at
your
picture
over
the
mantel-piece
,
which
will
presently
be
deposed
from
the
place
of
honour
,
to
make
way
for
the
portrait
of
the
son
who
reigns
.
Which
of
the
dead
are
most
tenderly
and
passionately
deplored
?
Those
who
love
the
survivors
the
least
,
I
believe
.
The
death
of
a
child
occasions
a
passion
of
grief
and
frantic
tears
,
such
as
your
end
,
brother
reader
,
will
never
inspire
.
The
death
of
an
infant
which
scarce
knew
you
,
which
a
week’s
absence
from
you
would
have
caused
to
forget
you
,
will
strike
you
down
more
than
the
loss
of
your
closest
friend
,
or
your
first-born
son
—
a
man
grown
like
yourself
,
with
children
of
his
own
.
We
may
be
harsh
and
stern
with
Judah
and
Simeon
—
our
love
and
pity
gush
out
for
Benjamin
,
the
little
one
.
And
if
you
are
old
,
as
some
reader
of
this
may
be
or
shall
be
—
old
and
rich
,
or
old
and
poor
—
you
may
one
day
be
thinking
for
yourself
—
“
These
people
are
very
good
round
about
me
;
but
they
won’t
grieve
too
much
when
I
am
gone
.
I
am
very
rich
,
and
they
want
my
inheritance
—
or
very
poor
,
and
they
are
tired
of
supporting
me
.
”
The
period
of
mourning
for
Mrs.
Sedley’s
death
was
only
just
concluded
,
and
Jos
scarcely
had
had
time
to
cast
off
his
black
and
appear
in
the
splendid
waistcoats
which
he
loved
,
when
it
became
evident
to
those
about
Mr.
Sedley
,
that
another
event
was
at
hand
,
and
that
the
old
man
was
about
to
go
seek
for
his
wife
in
the
dark
land
whither
she
had
preceded
him
.
“
The
state
of
my
father’s
health
,
”
Jos
Sedley
solemnly
remarked
at
the
Club
,
“
prevents
me
from
giving
any
large
parties
this
season
:
but
if
you
will
come
in
quietly
at
half-past
six
,
Chutney
,
my
boy
,
and
take
a
homely
dinner
with
one
or
two
of
the
old
set
—
I
shall
be
always
glad
to
see
you
.
”
So
Jos
and
his
acquaintances
dined
and
drank
their
claret
among
themselves
in
silence
;
whilst
the
sands
of
life
were
running
out
in
the
old
man’s
glass
upstairs
.
The
velvet-footed
butler
brought
them
their
wine
;
and
they
composed
themselves
to
a
rubber
after
dinner
:
at
which
Major
Dobbin
would
sometimes
come
and
take
a
hand
:
and
Mrs.
Osborne
would
occasionally
descend
,
when
her
patient
above
was
settled
for
the
night
,
and
had
commenced
one
of
those
lightly
troubled
slumbers
which
visit
the
pillow
of
old
age
.
The
old
man
clung
to
his
daughter
during
this
sickness
.
He
would
take
his
broths
and
medicines
from
scarcely
any
other
hand
.
To
tend
him
became
almost
the
sole
business
of
her
life
.
Her
bed
was
placed
close
by
the
door
which
opened
into
his
chamber
,
and
she
was
alive
at
the
slightest
noise
or
disturbance
from
the
couch
of
the
querulous
invalid
.
Though
,
to
do
him
justice
,
he
lay
awake
many
an
hour
,
silent
and
without
stirring
,
unwilling
to
awaken
his
kind
and
vigilant
nurse
.
He
loved
his
daughter
with
more
fondness
now
,
perhaps
,
than
ever
he
had
done
since
the
days
of
her
childhood
.
In
the
discharge
of
gentle
offices
and
kind
filial
duties
,
this
simple
creature
shone
most
especially
.
“
She
walks
into
the
room
as
silently
as
a
sunbeam
,
”
Mr.
Dobbin
thought
,
as
he
saw
her
passing
in
and
out
from
her
father’s
room
;
a
cheerful
sweetness
lighting
up
her
face
as
she
moved
to
and
fro
,
graceful
and
noiseless
.
When
women
are
brooding
over
their
children
,
or
busied
in
a
sick-room
,
who
has
not
seen
in
their
faces
those
sweet
angelic
beams
of
love
and
pity
?
A
secret
feud
of
some
years’
standing
was
thus
healed
:
and
with
a
tacit
reconciliation
.
In
these
last
hours
,
and
touched
by
her
love
and
goodness
,
the
old
man
forgot
all
his
grief
against
her
,
and
wrongs
which
he
and
his
wife
had
many
a
long
night
debated
:
how
she
had
given
up
everything
for
her
boy
:
how
she
was
careless
of
her
parents
in
their
old
age
and
misfortune
,
and
only
thought
of
the
child
:
how
absurdly
and
foolishly
,
impiously
indeed
,
she
took
on
,
when
George
was
removed
from
her
.
Old
Sedley
forgot
these
charges
as
he
was
making
up
his
last
account
,
and
did
justice
to
the
gentle
and
uncomplaining
little
martyr
.
One
night
when
she
stole
into
his
room
,
she
found
him
awake
,
when
the
broken
old
man
made
his
confession
.
“
O
Emmy
,
I’ve
been
thinking
we
were
very
unkind
and
unjust
to
you
,
”
he
said
,
and
put
out
his
cold
and
feeble
hand
to
her
.
She
knelt
down
and
prayed
by
his
bedside
,
as
he
did
too
,
having
still
hold
of
her
hand
.
When
our
turn
comes
,
friend
,
may
we
have
such
company
in
our
prayers
!
Perhaps
as
he
was
lying
awake
then
,
his
life
may
have
passed
before
him
—
his
early
hopeful
struggles
,
his
manly
successes
and
prosperity
,
his
downfall
in
his
declining
years
,
and
his
present
helpless
condition
—
no
chance
of
revenge
against
Fortune
,
which
had
had
the
better
of
him
—
neither
name
nor
money
to
bequeath
—
a
spent-out
,
bootless
life
of
defeat
and
disappointment
,
and
the
end
here
!
Which
,
I
wonder
,
brother
reader
,
is
the
better
lot
,
to
die
prosperous
and
famous
,
or
poor
and
disappointed
?
To
have
,
and
to
be
forced
to
yield
;
or
to
sink
out
of
life
,
having
played
and
lost
the
game
?
That
must
be
a
strange
feeling
,
when
a
day
of
our
life
comes
and
we
say
,
“
Tomorrow
,
success
or
failure
won’t
matter
much
:
and
the
sun
will
rise
,
and
all
the
myriads
of
mankind
go
to
their
work
or
their
pleasure
as
usual
,
but
I
shall
be
out
of
the
turmoil
.
”
So
there
came
one
morning
and
sunrise
,
when
all
the
world
got
up
and
set
about
its
various
works
and
pleasures
,
with
the
exception
of
old
John
Sedley
,
who
was
not
to
fight
with
fortune
,
or
to
hope
or
scheme
any
more
:
but
to
go
and
take
up
a
quiet
and
utterly
unknown
residence
in
a
churchyard
at
Brompton
by
the
side
of
his
old
wife
.
Major
Dobbin
,
Jos
,
and
Georgy
followed
his
remains
to
the
grave
,
in
a
black
cloth
coach
.
Jos
came
on
purpose
from
the
Star
and
Garter
at
Richmond
,
whither
he
retreated
after
the
deplorable
event
.
He
did
not
care
to
remain
in
the
house
,
with
the
—
under
the
circumstances
,
you
understand
.
But
Emmy
stayed
and
did
her
duty
as
usual
.
She
was
bowed
down
by
no
especial
grief
,
and
rather
solemn
than
sorrowful
.
She
prayed
that
her
own
end
might
be
as
calm
and
painless
,
and
thought
with
trust
and
reverence
of
the
words
which
she
had
heard
from
her
father
during
his
illness
,
indicative
of
his
faith
,
his
resignation
,
and
his
future
hope
.
Yes
,
I
think
that
will
be
the
better
ending
of
the
two
,
after
all
.
Suppose
you
are
particularly
rich
and
well
to
do
,
and
say
on
that
last
day
,
“
I
am
very
rich
;
I
am
tolerably
well
known
;
I
have
lived
all
my
life
in
the
best
society
,
and
thank
Heaven
,
come
of
a
most
respectable
family
.
I
have
served
my
King
and
country
with
honour
.
I
was
in
Parliament
for
several
years
,
where
,
I
may
say
,
my
speeches
were
listened
to
,
and
pretty
well
received
.
I
don’t
owe
any
man
a
shillin
on
the
contrary
,
I
lent
my
old
college
friend
,
Jack
Lazarus
,
fifty
pounds
,
for
which
my
executors
will
not
press
him
.
I
leave
my
daughters
with
ten
thousand
pounds
a-piece
—
very
good
portions
for
girls
;
I
bequeath
my
plate
and
furniture
,
my
house
in
Baker
Street
,
with
a
handsome
jointure
,
to
my
widow
for
her
life
;
and
my
landed
property
,
besides
money
in
the
funds
,
and
my
cellar
of
well-selected
wine
in
Baker
Street
,
to
my
son
.
I
leave
twenty
pound
a-year
to
my
valet
;
and
I
defy
any
man
after
I
have
gone
to
find
anything
against
my
character
.
”
Or
suppose
,
on
the
other
hand
,
your
swan
sings
quite
a
different
sort
of
a
dirge
,
and
you
say
,
“
I
am
a
poor
blighted
,
disappointed
old
fellow
,
and
have
made
an
utter
failure
through
life
.
I
was
not
endowed
either
with
brains
or
with
good
fortune
;
and
confess
that
I
have
committed
a
hundred
mistakes
and
blunders
.
I
own
to
having
forgotten
my
duty
many
a
time
.
I
can’t
pay
what
I
owe
.
On
my
last
bed
I
lie
utterly
helpless
and
humble
:
and
I
pray
forgiveness
for
my
weakness
,
and
throw
myself
with
a
contrite
heart
,
at
the
feet
of
the
Divine
Mercy
.
”
Which
of
these
two
speeches
,
think
you
,
would
be
the
best
oration
for
your
own
funeral
?
Old
Sedley
made
the
last
;
and
in
that
humble
frame
of
mind
,
and
holding
by
the
hand
of
his
daughter
,
life
and
disappointment
and
vanity
sank
away
from
under
him
.
“
You
see
,
”
said
old
Osborne
to
George
,
“
what
comes
of
merit
and
industry
,
and
judicious
speculations
,
and
that
,
Look
at
me
and
my
banker’s
account
.
Look
at
your
poor
grandfather
Sedley
,
and
his
failure
.
And
yet
he
was
a
better
man
than
I
was
,
this
day
twenty
years
—
a
better
man
,
I
should
say
,
by
ten
thousand
pound
.
”
Beyond
these
people
and
Mr.
Clapp’s
family
,
who
came
over
from
Brompton
to
pay
a
visit
of
condolence
,
not
a
single
soul
alive
ever
cared
a
penny
piece
about
old
John
Sedley
,
or
remembered
the
existence
of
such
a
person
.
When
old
Osborne
first
heard
from
his
friend
Colonel
Buckler
(
as
little
Georgy
has
already
informed
us
)
how
distinguished
an
officer
Major
Dobbin
was
,
he
exhibited
a
great
deal
of
scornful
incredulity
,
and
expressed
his
surprise
how
ever
such
a
feller
as
that
should
possess
either
brains
or
reputation
.
But
he
heard
of
the
Major’s
fame
from
various
members
of
his
society
.
Sir
William
Dobbin
had
a
great
opinion
of
his
son
,
and
narrated
many
stories
illustrative
of
the
Major’s
learning
,
valour
,
and
estimation
of
the
world’s
opinion
.
Finally
,
his
name
appeared
in
the
lists
of
one
or
two
great
parties
of
the
nobility
:
and
this
circumstance
had
a
prodigious
effect
upon
the
old
aristocrat
of
Russell
Square
.
The
Major’s
position
,
as
guardian
to
Georgy
,
whose
possession
had
been
ceded
to
his
grandfather
,
rendered
some
meetings
between
the
two
gentlemen
inevitable
;
and
it
was
in
one
of
these
that
old
Osborne
,
a
keen
man
of
business
,
looking
into
the
Major’s
accounts
with
his
ward
and
the
boy’s
mother
,
got
a
hint
which
staggered
him
very
much
,
and
at
once
pained
and
pleased
him
,
that
it
was
out
of
William
Dobbin’s
own
pocket
that
a
part
of
the
fund
had
been
supplied
upon
which
the
poor
widow
and
the
child
had
subsisted
.
When
pressed
upon
the
point
,
Dobbin
,
who
could
not
tell
lies
,
blushed
and
stammered
a
good
deal
,
and
finally
confessed
.
“
The
marriage
,
”
he
said
,
(
at
which
his
interlocutor’s
face
grew
dark
,
)
“
was
very
much
my
doing
.
I
thought
my
poor
friend
had
gone
so
far
,
that
retreat
from
his
engagement
would
have
been
dishonour
to
him
,
and
death
to
Mrs.
Osborne
;
and
I
could
do
no
less
,
when
she
was
left
without
resources
,
than
give
what
money
I
could
spare
to
maintain
her
.
”
“
Major
D
.
,
”
Mr.
Osborne
said
,
looking
hard
at
him
,
and
turning
very
red
—
“
you
did
me
a
great
injury
;
but
give
me
leave
to
tell
you
,
sir
,
you
are
an
honest
feller
.
There’s
my
hand
,
sir
,
though
I
little
thought
that
my
flesh
and
blood
was
living
on
you
—
”
and
the
pair
shook
hands
,
with
great
confusion
on
Major
Dobbin’s
part
,
thus
found
out
in
his
act
of
charitable
hypocrisy
.
He
strove
to
soften
the
old
man
,
and
reconcile
him
towards
his
son’s
memory
.
“
He
was
such
a
noble
fellow
,
”
he
said
,
“
that
all
of
us
loved
him
,
and
would
have
done
anything
for
him
.
I
,
as
a
young
man
in
those
days
,
was
flattered
beyond
measure
by
his
preference
for
me
;
and
was
more
pleased
to
be
seen
in
his
company
than
in
that
of
the
Commander-in-Chief
.
I
never
saw
his
equal
for
pluck
and
daring
,
and
all
the
qualities
of
a
soldier
;
”
and
Dobbin
told
the
old
father
as
many
stories
as
he
could
remember
regarding
the
gallantry
and
achievements
of
his
son
.
“
And
Georgy
is
so
like
him
,
”
the
Major
added
.
“
He’s
so
like
him
that
he
makes
me
tremble
sometimes
,
”
the
grandfather
said
.
On
one
or
two
evenings
the
Major
came
to
dine
with
Mr.
Osborne
(
it
was
during
the
time
of
the
sickness
of
Mr.
Sedley
)
,
and
as
the
two
sate
together
in
the
evening
after
dinner
all
their
talk
was
about
the
departed
hero
.
The
father
boasted
about
him
according
to
his
wont
,
glorifying
himself
in
recounting
his
son’s
feats
and
gallantry
,
but
his
mood
was
at
any
rate
better
and
more
charitable
than
that
in
which
he
had
been
disposed
until
now
to
regard
the
poor
fellow
;
and
the
Christian
heart
of
the
kind
Major
was
pleased
at
these
symptoms
of
returning
peace
and
good
will
.
On
the
second
evening
old
Osborne
called
Dobbin
,
William
,
just
as
he
used
to
do
at
the
time
when
Dobbin
and
George
were
boys
together
:
and
the
honest
gentleman
was
pleased
by
that
mark
of
reconciliation
.
On
the
next
day
at
breakfast
when
Miss
Osborne
,
with
the
asperity
of
her
age
and
character
,
ventured
to
make
some
remark
reflecting
slightly
upon
the
Major’s
appearance
or
behaviour
—
the
master
of
the
house
interrupted
her
.
“
You’d
have
been
glad
enough
to
git
him
for
yourself
,
Miss
O
.
But
them
grapes
are
sour
.
Ha
!
ha
!
Major
William
is
a
fine
feller
.
”
“
That
he
is
,
Grandpapa
,
”
said
Georgy
,
approvingly
:
and
going
up
close
to
the
old
gentleman
he
took
a
hold
of
his
large
grey
whiskers
,
and
laughed
in
his
face
good-humouredly
and
kissed
him
.
And
he
told
the
story
at
night
to
his
mother
;
who
fully
agreed
with
the
boy
.
“
Indeed
he
is
,
”
she
said
.
“
Your
dear
father
always
said
so
.
He
is
one
of
the
best
and
most
upright
of
men
.
”
Dobbin
happened
to
drop
in
very
soon
after
this
conversation
,
which
made
Amelia
blush
perhaps
:
and
the
young
scapegrace
increased
the
confusion
by
telling
Dobbin
the
other
part
of
the
story
.
“
I
say
,
Dob
,
”
he
said
,
“
there’s
such
an
uncommon
nice
girl
wants
to
marry
you
.
She’s
plenty
of
tin
;
she
wears
a
front
:
and
she
scolds
the
servants
from
morning
till
night
.
”
“
Who
is
it
?
”
asked
Dobbin
.
“
It’s
aunt
O
.
,
”
the
boy
answered
.
“
Grandpapa
said
so
.
And
I
say
,
Dob
,
how
prime
it
would
be
to
have
you
for
my
uncle
.
”
Old
Sedley’s
quavering
voice
from
the
next
room
at
this
moment
weakly
called
for
Amelia
,
and
the
laughing
ended
.
That
old
Osborne’s
mind
was
changing
,
was
pretty
clear
.
He
asked
George
about
his
uncle
sometimes
,
and
laughed
at
the
boy’s
imitation
of
the
way
in
which
Jos
said
,
“
God-bless-my-soul
,
”
and
gobbled
his
soup
.
Then
he
said
,
“
It’s
not
respectful
,
sir
,
of
you
younkers
to
be
imitating
of
your
relations
.
Miss
O
.
,
when
you
go
out
a-driving
to-day
,
leave
my
card
upon
Mr.
Sedley
,
do
you
hear
?
There’s
no
quarrel
betwigst
me
and
him
anyhow
.
”
The
card
was
returned
,
and
Jos
and
the
Major
were
asked
to
dinner
,
—
to
a
dinner
the
most
splendid
and
stupid
that
perhaps
ever
Mr.
Osborne
gave
;
every
inch
of
the
family
plate
was
exhibited
,
and
the
best
company
was
asked
.
Mr.
Sedley
took
down
Miss
O
.
to
dinner
,
and
she
was
very
gracious
to
him
;
whereas
she
hardly
spoke
to
the
Major
,
who
sat
apart
from
her
,
and
by
the
side
of
Mr.
Osborne
,
very
timid
.
Jos
said
,
with
great
solemnity
,
it
was
the
best
turtle
soup
he
had
ever
tasted
in
his
life
;
and
asked
Mr.
Osborne
where
he
got
his
Madeira
?
“
It
is
some
of
Sedley’s
wine
,
”
whispered
the
butler
to
his
master
.
“
I’ve
had
it
a
long
time
,
and
paid
a
good
figure
for
it
,
too
,
”
Mr.
Osborne
said
aloud
,
to
his
guest
;
and
then
whispered
to
his
right-hand
neighbour
how
he
had
got
it
“
at
the
old
chap’s
sale
.
”
More
than
once
he
asked
the
Major
about
—
about
Mrs.
George
Osborne
—
a
theme
on
which
the
Major
could
be
very
eloquent
when
he
chose
.
He
told
Mr.
Osborne
of
her
sufferings
—
of
her
passionate
attachment
to
her
husband
,
whose
memory
