Vanity Fair ...........................................................................................................................................................1

William Thackary....................................................................................................................................1

While the present century was in its teens, and on one sunshiny morning in June, there drove up to the great

iron gate of Miss Pinkerton's academy for young ladies, on Chiswick Mall, a large family coach, with two fat

horses in blazing harness, driven by a fat coachman in a threecornered hat and wig, at the rate of four miles

an hour. A black servant, who reposed on the box beside the fat coachman, uncurled his bandy legs as soon as

the equipage drew up opposite Miss Pinkerton's shining brass plate, and as he pulled the bell at least a score

of young heads were seen peering out of the narrow windows of the stately old brick house. Nay, the acute

observer might have recognized the little red nose of goodnatured Miss Jemima Pinkerton herself, rising

"It is Mrs. Sedley's coach, sister," said Miss Jemima. "Sambo, the black servant, has just rung the bell; and

"Have you completed all the necessary preparations incident to Miss Sedley's departure, Miss Jemima?"

asked Miss Pinkerton herself, that majestic lady; the Semiramis of Hammersmith, the friend of Doctor

"The girls were up at four this morning, packing her trunks, sister," replied Miss Jemima; "we have made her

"Well, a booky as big almost as a haystack; I have put up two bottles of the gillyflower water for Mrs. Sedley,

"And I trust, Miss Jemima, you have made a copy of Miss Sedley's account. This is it, is it? Very

goodninety three pounds, four shillings. Be kind enough to address it to John Sedley, Esquire, and to seal

In Miss Jemima's eyes an autograph letter of her sister, Miss Pinkerton, was an object of as deep veneration

as would have been a letter from a sovereign. Only when her pupils quitted the establishment, or when they

were about to be married, and once, when poor Miss Birch died of the scarlet fever, was Miss Pinkerton

known to write personally to the parents of her pupils; and it was Jemima's opinion that if anything could

console Mrs. Birch for her daughter's loss, it would be that pious and eloquent composition in which Miss

MADAM,After her six years' residence at the Mall, I have the honour and happiness of presenting Miss

Amelia Sedley to her parents, as a young lady not unworthy to occupy a fitting position in their polished and

refined circle. Those virtues which characterize the young English gentlewoman, those accomplishments

which become her birth and station, will not be found wanting in the amiable Miss Sedley, whose

INDUSTRY and OBEDIENCE have endeared her to her instructors, and whose delightful sweetness of

In music, in dancing, in orthography, in every variety of embroidery and needlework, she will be found to

have realized her friends' fondest wishes. In geography there is still much to be desired; and a careful and

undeviating use of the backboard, for four hours daily during the next three years, is recommended as

necessary to the acquirement of that dignified DEPORTMENT AND CARRIAGE, so requisite for every

In the principles of religion and morality, Miss Sedley will be found worthy of an establishment which has

been honoured by the presence of THE GREAT LEXICOGRAPHER, and the patronage of the admirable

Mrs. Chapone. In leaving the Mall, Miss Amelia carries with her the hearts of her companions, and the

P.S.Miss Sharp accompanies Miss Sedley. It is particularly requested that Miss Sharp's stay in Russell

Square may not exceed ten days. The family of distinction with whom she is engaged, desire to avail

This letter completed, Miss Pinkerton proceeded to write her own name, and Miss Sedley's, in the flyleaf of

a Johnson's Dictionarythe interesting work which she invariably presented to her scholars, on their

departure from the Mall. On the cover was inserted a copy of "Lines addressed to a young lady on quitting

Miss Pinkerton's school, at the Mall; by the late revered Doctor Samuel Johnson." In fact, the Lexicographer's

name was always on the lips of this majestic woman, and a visit he had paid to her was the cause of her

Being commanded by her elder sister to get "the Dictionary" from the cupboard, Miss Jemima had extracted

two copies of the book from the receptacle in question. When Miss Pinkerton had finished the inscription in

"For Becky Sharp," answered Jemima, trembling very much, and blushing over her withered face and neck,

"MISS JEMIMA!" exclaimed Miss Pinkerton, in the largest capitals. "Are you in your senses? Replace the

"Well, sister, it's only twoandninepence, and poor Becky will be miserable if she don't get one."

"Send Miss Sedley instantly to me," said Miss Pinkerton. And so venturing not to say another word, poor

Miss Sedley's papa was a merchant in London, and a man of some wealth; whereas Miss Sharp was an

articled pupil, for whom Miss Pinkerton had done, as she thought, quite enough, without conferring upon her

Although schoolmistresses' letters are to be trusted no more nor less than churchyard epitaphs; yet, as it

sometimes happens that a person departs this life who is really deserving of all the praises the stone cutter

carves over his bones; who IS a good Christian, a good parent, child, wife, or husband; who actually DOES

leave a disconsolate family to mourn his loss; so in academies of the male and female sex it occurs every now

and then that the pupil is fully worthy of the praises bestowed by the disinterested instructor. Now, Miss

Amelia Sedley was a young lady of this singular species; and deserved not only all that Miss Pinkerton said

in her praise, but had many charming qualities which that pompous old Minerva of a woman could not see,

For she could not only sing like a lark, or a Mrs. Billington, and dance like Hillisberg or Parisot; and

embroider beautifully; and spell as well as a Dixonary itself; but she had such a kindly, smiling, tender,

gentle, generous heart of her own, as won the love of everybody who came near her, from Minerva herself

down to the poor girl in the scullery, and the oneeyed tartwoman's daughter, who was permitted to vend

her wares once a week to the young ladies in the Mall. She had twelve intimate and bosom friends out of the

twentyfour young ladies. Even envious Miss Briggs never spoke ill of her; high and mighty Miss Saltire

(Lord Dexter's granddaughter) allowed that her figure was genteel; and as for Miss Swartz, the rich

woollyhaired mulatto from St. Kitt's, on the day Amelia went away, she was in such a passion of tears that

they were obliged to send for Dr. Floss, and half tipsify her with salvolatile. Miss Pinkerton's attachment was,

as may be supposed from the high position and eminent virtues of that lady, calm and dignified; but Miss

Jemima had already whimpered several times at the idea of Amelia's departure; and, but for fear of her sister,

would have gone off in downright hysterics, like the heiress (who paid double) of St. Kitt's. Such luxury of

grief, however, is only allowed to parlourboarders. Honest Jemima had all the bills, and the washing, and

the mending, and the puddings, and the plate and crockery, and the servants to superintend. But why speak

about her? It is probable that we shall not hear of her again from this moment to the end of time, and that

when the great filigree iron gates are once closed on her, she and her awful sister will never issue therefrom

But as we are to see a great deal of Amelia, there is no harm in saying, at the outset of our acquaintance, that

she was a dear little creature; and a great mercy it is, both in life and in novels, which (and the latter

especially) abound in villains of the most sombre sort, that we are to have for a constant companion so

guileless and goodnatured a person. As she is not a heroine, there is no need to describe her person; indeed I

am afraid that her nose was rather short than otherwise, and her cheeks a great deal too round and red for a

heroine; but her face blushed with rosy health, and her lips with the freshest of smiles, and she had a pair of

eyes which sparkled with the brightest and honestest goodhumour, except indeed when they filled with

tears, and that was a great deal too often; for the silly thing would cry over a dead canarybird; or over a

mouse, that the cat haply had seized upon; or over the end of a novel, were it ever so stupid; and as for saying

an unkind word to her, were any persons hardhearted enough to do sowhy, so much the worse for them.

Even Miss Pinkerton, that austere and godlike woman, ceased scolding her after the first time, and though she

no more comprehended sensibility than she did Algebra, gave all masters and teachers particular orders to

treat Miss Sedley with the utmost gentleness, as harsh treatment was injurious to her.

So that when the day of departure came, between her two customs of laughing and crying, Miss Sedley was

greatly puzzled how to act. She was glad to go home, and yet most woefully sad at leaving school. For three

days before, little Laura Martin, the orphan, followed her about like a little dog. She had to make and receive

at least fourteen presentsto make fourteen solemn promises of writing every week: "Send my letters under

cover to my grandpapa, the Earl of Dexter," said Miss Saltire (who, by the way, was rather shabby). "Never

mind the postage, but write every day, you dear darling," said the impetuous and woollyheaded, but

generous and affectionate Miss Swartz; and the orphan little Laura Martin (who was just in roundhand),

took her friend's hand and said, looking up in her face wistfully, "Amelia, when I write to you I shall call you

Mamma." All which details, I have no doubt, JONES, who reads this book at his Club, will pronounce to be

excessively foolish, trivial, twaddling, and ultrasentimental. Yes; I can see Jones at this minute (rather

flushed with his joint of mutton and half pint of wine), taking out his pencil and scoring under the words

"foolish, twaddling," and adding to them his own remark of "QUITE TRUE." Well, he is a lofty man of

genius, and admires the great and heroic in life and novels; and so had better take warning and go elsewhere.

Well, then. The flowers, and the presents, and the trunks, and bonnetboxes of Miss Sedley having been

arranged by Mr. Sambo in the carriage, together with a very small and weatherbeaten old cow'sskin trunk

with Miss Sharp's card neatly nailed upon it, which was delivered by Sambo with a grin, and packed by the

coachman with a corresponding sneerthe hour for parting came; and the grief of that moment was

considerably lessened by the admirable discourse which Miss Pinkerton addressed to her pupil. Not that the

parting speech caused Amelia to philosophise, or that it armed her in any way with a calmness, the result of

argument; but it was intolerably dull, pompous, and tedious; and having the fear of her schoolmistress greatly

before her eyes, Miss Sedley did not venture, in her presence, to give way to any ebullitions of private grief.

A seedcake and a bottle of wine were produced in the drawingroom, as on the solemn occasions of the

visits of parents, and these refreshments being partaken of, Miss Sedley was at liberty to depart.

"You'll go in and say goodby to Miss Pinkerton, Becky!" said Miss Jemima to a young lady of whom

"I suppose I must," said Miss Sharp calmly, and much to the wonder of Miss Jemima; and the latter having

knocked at the door, and receiving permission to come in, Miss Sharp advanced in a very unconcerned

manner, and said in French, and with a perfect accent, "Mademoiselle, je viens vous faire mes adieux."

Miss Pinkerton did not understand French; she only directed those who did: but biting her lips and throwing

up her venerable and Romannosed head (on the top of which figured a large and solemn turban), she said,

"Miss Sharp, I wish you a good morning." As the Hammersmith Semiramis spoke, she waved one hand, both

by way of adieu, and to give Miss Sharp an opportunity of shaking one of the fingers of the hand which was

Miss Sharp only folded her own hands with a very frigid smile and bow, and quite declined to accept the

proffered honour; on which Semiramis tossed up her turban more indignantly than ever. In fact, it was a little

battle between the young lady and the old one, and the latter was worsted. "Heaven bless you, my child," said

she, embracing Amelia, and scowling the while over the girl's shoulder at Miss Sharp. "Come away, Becky,"

said Miss Jemima, pulling the young woman away in great alarm, and the drawingroom door closed upon

Then came the struggle and parting below. Words refuse to tell it. All the servants were there in the hall all

the dear friendall the young ladiesthe dancing master who had just arrived; and there was such a

scuffling, and hugging, and kissing, and crying, with the hysterical YOOPS of Miss Swartz, the

parlourboarder, from her room, as no pen can depict, and as the tender heart would fain pass over. The

embracing was over; they partedthat is, Miss Sedley parted from her friends. Miss Sharp had demurely

Sambo of the bandy legs slammed the carriage door on his young weeping mistress. He sprang up behind the

"It's some sandwiches, my dear," said she to Amelia. "You may be hungry, you know; and Becky, Becky

Sharp, here's a book for you that my sisterthat is, I Johnson's Dixonary, you know; you mustn't leave us

But, lo! and just as the coach drove off, Miss Sharp put her pale face out of the window and actually flung the

This almost caused Jemima to faint with terror. "Well, I never"said she"what an audacious"Emotion

prevented her from completing either sentence. The carriage rolled away; the great gates were closed; the bell

rang for the dancing lesson. The world is before the two young ladies; and so, farewell to Chiswick Mall.

When Miss Sharp had performed the heroical act mentioned in the last chapter, and had seen the Dixonary,

flying over the pavement of the little garden, fall at length at the feet of the astonished Miss Jemima, the

young lady's countenance, which had before worn an almost livid look of hatred, assumed a smile that

perhaps was scarcely more agreeable, and she sank back in the carriage in an easy frame of mind,

Miss Sedley was almost as flurried at the act of defiance as Miss Jemima had been; for, consider, it was but

one minute that she had left school, and the impressions of six years are not got over in that space of time.

Nay, with some persons those awes and terrors of youth last for ever and ever. I know, for instance, an old

gentleman of sixtyeight, who said to me one morning at breakfast, with a very agitated countenance, "I

dreamed last night that I was flogged by Dr. Raine." Fancy had carried him back fiveandfifty years in the

course of that evening. Dr. Raine and his rod were just as awful to him in his heart, then, at sixtyeight, as

they had been at thirteen. If the Doctor, with a large birch, had appeared bodily to him, even at the age of

threescore and eight, and had said in awful voice, "Boy, take down your pant"? Well, well, Miss Sedley

"Why, do you think Miss Pinkerton will come out and order me back to the blackhole?" said Rebecca,

"I hate the whole house," continued Miss Sharp in a fury. "I hope I may never set eyes on it again. I wish it

were in the bottom of the Thames, I do; and if Miss Pinkerton were there, I wouldn't pick her out, that I

wouldn't. O how I should like to see her floating in the water yonder, turban and all, with her train streaming

"Why, will the black footman tell tales?" cried Miss Rebecca, laughing. "He may go back and tell Miss

Pinkerton that I hate her with all my soul; and I wish he would; and I wish I had a means of proving it, too.

For two years I have only had insults and outrage from her. I have been treated worse than any servant in the

kitchen. I have never had a friend or a kind word, except from you. I have been made to tend the little girls in

the lower schoolroom, and to talk French to the Misses, until I grew sick of my mother tongue. But that

talking French to Miss Pinkerton was capital fun, wasn't it? She doesn't know a word of French, and was too

proud to confess it. I believe it was that which made her part with me; and so thank Heaven for French. Vive

"O Rebecca, Rebecca, for shame!" cried Miss Sedley; for this was the greatest blasphemy Rebecca had as yet

uttered; and in those days, in England, to say, "Long live Bonaparte!" was as much as to say, "Long live

"Revenge may be wicked, but it's natural," answered Miss Rebecca. "I'm no angel." And, to say the truth, she

For it may be remarked in the course of this little conversation (which took place as the coach rolled along

lazily by the river side) that though Miss Rebecca Sharp has twice had occasion to thank Heaven, it has been,

in the first place, for ridding her of some person whom she hated, and secondly, for enabling her to bring her

enemies to some sort of perplexity or confusion; neither of which are very amiable motives for religious

gratitude, or such as would be put forward by persons of a kind and placable disposition. Miss Rebecca was

not, then, in the least kind or placable. All the world used her ill, said this young misanthropist, and we may

be pretty certain that persons whom all the world treats ill, deserve entirely the treatment they get. The world

is a looking glass, and gives back to every man the reflection of his own face. Frown at it, and it will in turn

look sourly upon you; laugh at it and with it, and it is a jolly kind companion; and so let all young persons

take their choice. This is certain, that if the world neglected Miss Sharp, she never was known to have done a

good action in behalf of anybody; nor can it be expected that twenty four young ladies should all be as

amiable as the heroine of this work, Miss Sedley (whom we have selected for the very reason that she was the

bestnatured of all, otherwise what on earth was to have prevented us from putting up Miss Swartz, or Miss

Crump, or Miss Hopkins, as heroine in her place!) it could not be expected that every one should be of the

humble and gentle temper of Miss Amelia Sedley; should take every opportunity to vanquish Rebecca's

hardheartedness and illhumour; and, by a thousand kind words and offices, overcome, for once at least, her

Miss Sharp's father was an artist, and in that quality had given lessons of drawing at Miss Pinkerton's school.

He was a clever man; a pleasant companion; a careless student; with a great propensity for running into debt,

and a partiality for the tavern. When he was drunk, he used to beat his wife and daughter; and the next

morning, with a headache, he would rail at the world for its neglect of his genius, and abuse, with a good deal

of cleverness, and sometimes with perfect reason, the fools, his brother painters. As it was with the utmost

difficulty that he could keep himself, and as he owed money for a mile round Soho, where he lived, he

thought to better his circumstances by marrying a young woman of the French nation, who was by profession

an operagirl. The humble calling of her female parent Miss Sharp never alluded to, but used to state

subsequently that the Entrechats were a noble family of Gascony, and took great pride in her descent from

them. And curious it is that as she advanced in life this young lady's ancestors increased in rank and

Rebecca's mother had had some education somewhere, and her daughter spoke French with purity and a

Parisian accent. It was in those days rather a rare accomplishment, and led to her engagement with the

orthodox Miss Pinkerton. For her mother being dead, her father, finding himself not likely to recover, after

his third attack of delirium tremens, wrote a manly and pathetic letter to Miss Pinkerton, recommending the

orphan child to her protection, and so descended to the grave, after two bailiffs had quarrelled over his

corpse. Rebecca was seventeen when she came to Chiswick, and was bound over as an articled pupil; her

duties being to talk French, as we have seen; and her privileges to live cost free, and, with a few guineas a

year, to gather scraps of knowledge from the professors who attended the school.

She was small and slight in person; pale, sandyhaired, and with eyes habitually cast down: when they

looked up they were very large, odd, and attractive; so attractive that the Reverend Mr. Crisp, fresh from

Oxford, and curate to the Vicar of Chiswick, the Reverend Mr. Flowerdew, fell in love with Miss Sharp;

being shot dead by a glance of her eyes which was fired all the way across Chiswick Church from the

schoolpew to the reading desk. This infatuated young man used sometimes to take tea with Miss

Pinkerton, to whom he had been presented by his mamma, and actually proposed something like marriage in

an intercepted note, which the oneeyed applewoman was charged to deliver. Mrs. Crisp was summoned

from Buxton, and abruptly carried off her darling boy; but the idea, even, of such an eagle in the Chiswick

dovecot caused a great flutter in the breast of Miss Pinkerton, who would have sent away Miss Sharp but that

she was bound to her under a forfeit, and who never could thoroughly believe the young lady's protestations

that she had never exchanged a single word with Mr. Crisp, except under her own eyes on the two occasions

By the side of many tall and bouncing young ladies in the establishment, Rebecca Sharp looked like a child.

But she had the dismal precocity of poverty. Many a dun had she talked to, and turned away from her father's

door; many a tradesman had she coaxed and wheedled into goodhumour, and into the granting of one meal

more. She sate commonly with her father, who was very proud of her wit, and heard the talk of many of his

wild companionsoften but illsuited for a girl to hear. But she never had been a girl, she said; she had been

a woman since she was eight years old. Oh, why did Miss Pinkerton let such a dangerous bird into her cage?

The fact is, the old lady believed Rebecca to be the meekest creature in the world, so admirably, on the

occasions when her father brought her to Chiswick, used Rebecca to perform the part of the ingenue; and

only a year before the arrangement by which Rebecca had been admitted into her house, and when Rebecca

was sixteen years old, Miss Pinkerton majestically, and with a little speech, made her a present of a

dollwhich was, by the way, the confiscated property of Miss Swindle, discovered surreptitiously nursing it

in schoolhours. How the father and daughter laughed as they trudged home together after the evening party

(it was on the occasion of the speeches, when all the professors were invited) and how Miss Pinkerton would

have raged had she seen the caricature of herself which the little mimic, Rebecca, managed to make out of her

doll. Becky used to go through dialogues with it; it formed the delight of Newman Street, Gerrard Street, and

the Artists' quarter: and the young painters, when they came to take their gin andwater with their lazy,

dissolute, clever, jovial senior, used regularly to ask Rebecca if Miss Pinkerton was at home: she was as well

known to them, poor soul! as Mr. Lawrence or President West. Once Rebecca had the honour to pass a few

days at Chiswick; after which she brought back Jemima, and erected another doll as Miss Jemmy: for though

that honest creature had made and given her jelly and cake enough for three children, and a sevenshilling

piece at parting, the girl's sense of ridicule was far stronger than her gratitude, and she sacrificed Miss Jemmy

The catastrophe came, and she was brought to the Mall as to her home. The rigid formality of the place

suffocated her: the prayers and the meals, the lessons and the walks, which were arranged with a conventual

regularity, oppressed her almost beyond endurance; and she looked back to the freedom and the beggary of

the old studio in Soho with so much regret, that everybody, herself included, fancied she was consumed with

grief for her father. She had a little room in the garret, where the maids heard her walking and sobbing at

night; but it was with rage, and not with grief. She had not been much of a dissembler, until now her

loneliness taught her to feign. She had never mingled in the society of women: her father, reprobate as he

was, was a man of talent; his conversation was a thousand times more agreeable to her than the talk of such

of her own sex as she now encountered. The pompous vanity of the old schoolmistress, the foolish

goodhumour of her sister, the silly chat and scandal of the elder girls, and the frigid correctness of the

governesses equally annoyed her; and she had no soft maternal heart, this unlucky girl, otherwise the prattle

and talk of the younger children, with whose care she was chiefly intrusted, might have soothed and

interested her; but she lived among them two years, and not one was sorry that she went away. The gentle

tender hearted Amelia Sedley was the only person to whom she could attach herself in the least; and who

The happiness the superior advantages of the young women round about her, gave Rebecca inexpressible

pangs of envy. "What airs that girl gives herself, because she is an Earl's granddaughter," she said of one.

"How they cringe and bow to that Creole, because of her hundred thousand pounds! I am a thousand times

cleverer and more charming than that creature, for all her wealth. I am as well bred as the Earl's

granddaughter, for all her fine pedigree; and yet every one passes me by here. And yet, when I was at my

father's, did not the men give up their gayest balls and parties in order to pass the evening with me?" She

determined at any rate to get free from the prison in which she found herself, and now began to act for

She took advantage, therefore, of the means of study the place offered her; and as she was already a musician

and a good linguist, she speedily went through the little course of study which was considered necessary for

ladies in those days. Her music she practised incessantly, and one day, when the girls were out, and she had

remained at home, she was overheard to play a piece so well that Minerva thought, wisely, she could spare

herself the expense of a master for the juniors, and intimated to Miss Sharp that she was to instruct them in

The girl refused; and for the first time, and to the astonishment of the majestic mistress of the school. "I am

here to speak French with the children," Rebecca said abruptly, "not to teach them music, and save money for

Minerva was obliged to yield, and, of course, disliked her from that day. "For fiveandthirty years," she

said, and with great justice, "I never have seen the individual who has dared in my own house to question my

"A vipera fiddlestick," said Miss Sharp to the old lady, almost fainting with astonishment. "You took me

because I was useful. There is no question of gratitude between us. I hate this place, and want to leave it. I

It was in vain that the old lady asked her if she was aware she was speaking to Miss Pinkerton? Rebecca

laughed in her face, with a horrid sarcastic demoniacal laughter, that almost sent the schoolmistress into fits.

"Give me a sum of money," said the girl, "and get rid of meor, if you like better, get me a good place as

governess in a nobleman's familyyou can do so if you please." And in their further disputes she always

returned to this point, "Get me a situationwe hate each other, and I am ready to go."

Worthy Miss Pinkerton, although she had a Roman nose and a turban, and was as tall as a grenadier, and had

been up to this time an irresistible princess, had no will or strength like that of her little apprentice, and in

vain did battle against her, and tried to overawe her. Attempting once to scold her in public, Rebecca hit upon

the beforementioned plan of answering her in French, which quite routed the old woman. In order to

maintain authority in her school, it became necessary to remove this rebel, this monster, this serpent, this

firebrand; and hearing about this time that Sir Pitt Crawley's family was in want of a governess, she actually

recommended Miss Sharp for the situation, firebrand and serpent as she was. "I cannot, certainly," she said,

"find fault with Miss Sharp's conduct, except to myself; and must allow that her talents and accomplishments

are of a high order. As far as the head goes, at least, she does credit to the educational system pursued at my

And so the schoolmistress reconciled the recommendation to her conscience, and the indentures were

cancelled, and the apprentice was free. The battle here described in a few lines, of course, lasted for some

months. And as Miss Sedley, being now in her seventeenth year, was about to leave school, and had a

friendship for Miss Sharp ("'tis the only point in Amelia's behaviour," said Minerva, "which has not been

satisfactory to her mistress"), Miss Sharp was invited by her friend to pass a week with her at home, before

Thus the world began for these two young ladies. For Amelia it was quite a new, fresh, brilliant world, with

all the bloom upon it. It was not quite a new one for Rebecca(indeed, if the truth must be told with respect

to the Crisp affair, the tartwoman hinted to somebody, who took an affidavit of the fact to somebody else,

that there was a great deal more than was made public regarding Mr. Crisp and Miss Sharp, and that his letter

was in answer to another letter). But who can tell you the real truth of the matter? At all events, if Rebecca

By the time the young ladies reached Kensington turnpike, Amelia had not forgotten her companions, but had

dried her tears, and had blushed very much and been delighted at a young officer of the Life Guards, who

spied her as he was riding by, and said, "A dem fine gal, egad!" and before the carriage arrived in Russell

Square, a great deal of conversation had taken place about the Drawingroom, and whether or not young

ladies wore powder as well as hoops when presented, and whether she was to have that honour: to the Lord

Mayor's ball she knew she was to go. And when at length home was reached, Miss Amelia Sedley skipped

out on Sambo's arm, as happy and as handsome a girl as any in the whole big city of London. Both he and

coachman agreed on this point, and so did her father and mother, and so did every one of the servants in the

house, as they stood bobbing, and curtseying, and smiling, in the hall to welcome their young mistress.

You may be sure that she showed Rebecca over every room of the house, and everything in every one of her

drawers; and her books, and her piano, and her dresses, and all her necklaces, brooches, laces, and gimcracks.

She insisted upon Rebecca accepting the white cornelian and the turquoise rings, and a sweet sprigged

muslin, which was too small for her now, though it would fit her friend to a nicety; and she determined in her

heart to ask her mother's permission to present her white Cashmere shawl to her friend. Could she not spare

When Rebecca saw the two magnificent Cashmere shawls which Joseph Sedley had brought home to his

sister, she said, with perfect truth, "that it must be delightful to have a brother," and easily got the pity of the

tenderhearted Amelia for being alone in the world, an orphan without friends or kindred.

"Not alone," said Amelia; "you know, Rebecca, I shall always be your friend, and love you as a

"Ah, but to have parents, as you havekind, rich, affectionate parents, who give you everything youask

for; and their love, which is more precious than all! My poor papa could give me nothing, and I had but two

frocks in all the world! And then, to have a brother, a dear brother! Oh, how you must love him!"

"Only Joseph doesn't seem to care much whether I love him or not. He gave me two fingers to shake when he

arrived after ten years' absence! He is very kind and good, but he scarcely ever speaks to me; I think he loves

his pipe a great deal better than his"but here Amelia checked herself, for why should she speak ill of her

brother? "He was very kind to me as a child," she added; "I was but five years old when he went away."

"Isn't he very rich?" said Rebecca. "They say all Indian nabobs are enormously rich."

"And is your sisterinlaw a nice pretty woman?" "La! Joseph is not married," said Amelia, laughing again.

Perhaps she had mentioned the fact already to Rebecca, but that young lady did not appear to have

remembered it; indeed, vowed and protested that she expected to see a number of Amelia's nephews and

nieces. She was quite disappointed that Mr. Sedley was not married; she was sure Amelia had said he was,

"I think you must have had enough of them at Chiswick," said Amelia, rather wondering at the sudden

tenderness on her friend's part; and indeed in later days Miss Sharp would never have committed herself so

far as to advance opinions, the untruth of which would have been so easily detected. But we must remember

that she is but nineteen as yet, unused to the art of deceiving, poor innocent creature! and making her own

experience in her own person. The meaning of the above series of queries, as translated in the heart of this

ingenious young woman, was simply this: "If Mr. Joseph Sedley is rich and unmarried, why should I not

marry him? I have only a fortnight, to be sure, but there is no harm in trying." And she determined within

herself to make this laudable attempt. She redoubled her caresses to Amelia; she kissed the white cornelian

necklace as she put it on; and vowed she would never, never part with it. When the dinnerbell rang she went

downstairs with her arm round her friend's waist, as is the habit of young ladies. She was so agitated at the

drawingroom door, that she could hardly find courage to enter. "Feel my heart, how it beats, dear!" said she

"No, it doesn't," said Amelia. "Come in, don't be frightened. Papa won't do you any harm."

A VERY stout, puffy man, in buckskins and Hessian boots, with several immense neckcloths that rose almost

to his nose, with a red striped waistcoat and an apple green coat with steel buttons almost as large as crown

pieces (it was the morning costume of a dandy or blood of those days) was reading the paper by the fire when

the two girls entered, and bounced off his armchair, and blushed excessively, and hid his entire face almost

"It's only your sister, Joseph," said Amelia, laughing and shaking the two fingers which he held out. "I've

come home FOR GOOD, you know; and this is my friend, Miss Sharp, whom you have heard me mention."

"No, never, upon my word," said the head under the neckcloth, shaking very much"that is, yeswhat

abominably cold weather, Miss"and herewith he fell to poking the fire with all his might, although it was

"Darling! not for worlds," said Miss Sharp, starting back as timid as a fawn. She had previously made a

respectful virginlike curtsey to the gentleman, and her modest eyes gazed so perseveringly on the carpet that

"Thank you for the beautiful shawls, brother," said Amelia to the fire poker. "Are they not beautiful,

"O heavenly!" said Miss Sharp, and her eyes went from the carpet straight to the chandelier.

Joseph still continued a huge clattering at the poker and tongs, puffing and blowing the while, and turning as

red as his yellow face would allow him. "I can't make you such handsome presents, Joseph," continued his

sister, "but while I was at school, I have embroidered for you a very beautiful pair of braces."

"Good Gad! Amelia," cried the brother, in serious alarm, "what do you mean?" and plunging with all his

might at the bellrope, that article of furniture came away in his hand, and increased the honest fellow's

confusion. "For heaven's sake see if my buggy's at the door. I CAN'T wait. I must go. D that groom of

At this minute the father of the family walked in, rattling his seals like a true British merchant. "What's the

Joseph at this burst out into a wild fit of laughter; in which, encountering the eye of Miss Sharp, he stopped

"This young lady is your friend? Miss Sharp, I am very happy to see you. Have you and Emmy been

On which, of course, Miss Sharp looked at her friend, and they both set off in a fit of laughter, highly

"Did you ever see a pair of buckskins like those at Miss Pinkerton's?" continued he, following up his

"There now, I have hurt his feelings. Mrs. Sedley, my dear, I have hurt your son's feelings. I have alluded to

his buckskins. Ask Miss Sharp if I haven't? Come, Joseph, be friends with Miss Sharp, and let us all go to

"There's a pillau, Joseph, just as you like it, and Papa has brought home the best turbot in Billingsgate."

"Come, come, sir, walk downstairs with Miss Sharp, and I will follow with these two young women," said the

If Miss Rebecca Sharp had determined in her heart upon making the conquest of this big beau, I don't think,

ladies, we have any right to blame her; for though the task of husbandhunting is generally, and with

becoming modesty, entrusted by young persons to their mammas, recollect that Miss Sharp had no kind

parent to arrange these delicate matters for her, and that if she did not get a husband for herself, there was no

one else in the wide world who would take the trouble off her hands. What causes young people to "come

out," but the noble ambition of matrimony? What sends them trooping to wateringplaces? What keeps them

dancing till five o'clock in the morning through a whole mortal season? What causes them to labour at

pianoforte sonatas, and to learn four songs from a fashionable master at a guinea a lesson, and to play the

harp if they have handsome arms and neat elbows, and to wear Lincoln Green toxophilite hats and feathers,

but that they may bring down some "desirable" young man with those killing bows and arrows of theirs?

What causes respectable parents to take up their carpets, set their houses topsyturvy, and spend a fifth of

their year's income in ball suppers and iced champagne? Is it sheer love of their species, and an unadulterated

wish to see young people happy and dancing? Psha! they want to marry their daughters; and, as honest Mrs.

Sedley has, in the depths of her kind heart, already arranged a score of little schemes for the settlement of her

Amelia, so also had our beloved but unprotected Rebecca determined to do her very best to secure the

husband, who was even more necessary for her than for her friend. She had a vivid imagination; she had,

besides, read the Arabian Nights and Guthrie's Geography; and it is a fact that while she was dressing for

dinner, and after she had asked Amelia whether her brother was very rich, she had built for herself a most

magnificent castle in the air, of which she was mistress, with a husband somewhere in the background (she

had not seen him as yet, and his figure would not therefore be very distinct); she had arrayed herself in an

infinity of shawls, turbans, and diamond necklaces, and had mounted upon an elephant to the sound of the

march in Bluebeard, in order to pay a visit of ceremony to the Grand Mogul. Charming Alnaschar visions! it

is the happy privilege of youth to construct you, and many a fanciful young creature besides Rebecca Sharp

Joseph Sedley was twelve years older than his sister Amelia. He was in the East India Company's Civil

Service, and his name appeared, at the period of which we write, in the Bengal division of the East India

know to what higher posts Joseph rose in the service, the reader is referred to the same periodical.

Boggley Wollah is situated in a fine, lonely, marshy, jungly district, famous for snipeshooting, and where

not unfrequently you may flush a tiger. Ramgunge, where there is a magistrate, is only forty miles off, and

there is a cavalry station about thirty miles farther; so Joseph wrote home to his parents, when he took

possession of his collectorship. He had lived for about eight years of his life, quite alone, at this charming

place, scarcely seeing a Christian face except twice a year, when the detachment arrived to carry off the

Luckily, at this time he caught a liver complaint, for the cure of which he returned to Europe, and which was

the source of great comfort and amusement to him in his native country. He did not live with his family while

in London, but had lodgings of his own, like a gay young bachelor. Before he went to India he was too young

to partake of the delightful pleasures of a man about town, and plunged into them on his return with

considerable assiduity. He drove his horses in the Park; he dined at the fashionable taverns (for the Oriental

Club was not as yet invented); he frequented the theatres, as the mode was in those days, or made his

On returning to India, and ever after, he used to talk of the pleasure of this period of his existence with great

enthusiasm, and give you to understand that he and Brummel were the leading bucks of the day. But he was

as lonely here as in his jungle at Boggley Wollah. He scarcely knew a single soul in the metropolis: and were

it not for his doctor, and the society of his bluepill, and his liver complaint, he must have died of loneliness.

He was lazy, peevish, and a bonvivan; the appearance of a lady frightened him beyond measure; hence it

was but seldom that he joined the paternal circle in Russell Square, where there was plenty of gaiety, and

where the jokes of his goodnatured old father frightened his amourpropre. His bulk caused Joseph much

anxious thought and alarm; now and then he would make a desperate attempt to get rid of his superabundant

fat; but his indolence and love of good living speedily got the better of these endeavours at reform, and he

found himself again at his three meals a day. He never was well dressed; but he took the hugest pains to

adorn his big person, and passed many hours daily in that occupation. His valet made a fortune out of his

wardrobe: his toilettable was covered with as many pomatums and essences as ever were employed by an

old beauty: he had tried, in order to give himself a waist, every girth, stay, and waistband then invented. Like

most fat men, he would have his clothes made too tight, and took care they should be of the most brilliant

colours and youthful cut. When dressed at length, in the afternoon, he would issue forth to take a drive with

nobody in the Park; and then would come back in order to dress again and go and dine with nobody at the

Piazza CoffeeHouse. He was as vain as a girl; and perhaps his extreme shyness was one of the results of his

extreme vanity. If Miss Rebecca can get the better of him, and at her first entrance into life, she is a young

The first move showed considerable skill. When she called Sedley a very handsome man, she knew that

Amelia would tell her mother, who would probably tell Joseph, or who, at any rate, would be pleased by the

compliment paid to her son. All mothers are. If you had told Sycorax that her son Caliban was as handsome

as Apollo, she would have been pleased, witch as she was. Perhaps, too, Joseph Sedley would overhear the

complimentRebecca spoke loud enoughand he did hear, and (thinking in his heart that he was a very

fine man) the praise thrilled through every fibre of his big body, and made it tingle with pleasure. Then,

however, came a recoil. "Is the girl making fun of me?" he thought, and straightway he bounced towards the

bell, and was for retreating, as we have seen, when his father's jokes and his mother's entreaties caused him to

pause and stay where he was. He conducted the young lady down to dinner in a dubious and agitated frame of

mind. "Does she really think I am handsome?" thought he, "or is she only making game of me?" We have

talked of Joseph Sedley being as vain as a girl. Heaven help us! the girls have only to turn the tables, and say

of one of their own sex, "She is as vain as a man," and they will have perfect reason. The bearded creatures

are quite as eager for praise, quite as finikin over their toilettes, quite as proud of their personal advantages,

quite as conscious of their powers of fascination, as any coquette in the world.

Downstairs, then, they went, Joseph very red and blushing, Rebecca very modest, and holding her green eyes

downwards. She was dressed in white, with bare shoulders as white as snowthe picture of youth,

unprotected innocence, and humble virgin simplicity. "I must be very quiet," thought Rebecca, "and very

Now we have heard how Mrs. Sedley had prepared a fine curry for her son, just as he liked it, and in the

course of dinner a portion of this dish was offered to Rebecca. "What is it?" said she, turning an appealing

"Capital," said he. His mouth was full of it: his face quite red with the delightful exercise of gobbling.

"Oh, I must try some, if it is an Indian dish," said Miss Rebecca. "I am sure everything must be good that

"Oh, excellent!" said Rebecca, who was suffering tortures with the cayenne pepper.

"A chili," said Rebecca, gasping. "Oh yes!" She thought a chili was something cool, as its name imported,

and was served with some. "How fresh and green they look," she said, and put one into her mouth. It was

hotter than the curry; flesh and blood could bear it no longer. She laid down her fork. "Water, for Heaven's

sake, water!" she cried. Mr. Sedley burst out laughing (he was a coarse man, from the Stock Exchange, where

they love all sorts of practical jokes). "They are real Indian, I assure you," said he. "Sambo, give Miss Sharp

The paternal laugh was echoed by Joseph, who thought the joke capital. The ladies only smiled a little. They

thought poor Rebecca suffered too much. She would have liked to choke old Sedley, but she swallowed her

mortification as well as she had the abominable curry before it, and as soon as she could speak, said, with a

comical, goodhumoured air, "I ought to have remembered the pepper which the Princess of Persia puts in

the cream tarts in the Arabian Nights. Do you put cayenne into your creamtarts in India, sir?"

Old Sedley began to laugh, and thought Rebecca was a goodhumoured girl. Joseph simply said, "Cream

tarts, Miss? Our cream is very bad in Bengal. We generally use goats' milk; and, 'gad, do you know, I've got

"You won't like EVERYTHING from India now, Miss Sharp," said the old gentleman; but when the ladies

had retired after dinner, the wily old fellow said to his son, "Have a care, Joe; that girl is setting her cap at

"Pooh! nonsense!" said Joe, highly flattered. "I recollect, sir, there was a girl at Dumdum, a daughter of

Cutler of the Artillery, and afterwards married to Lance, the surgeon, who made a dead set at me in the year

'4at me and Mulligatawney, whom I mentioned to you before dinnera devilish good fellow

Mulligatawney he's a magistrate at Budgebudge, and sure to be in council in five years. Well, sir, the

Artillery gave a ball, and Quintin, of the King's 14th, said to me, 'Sedley,' said he, 'I bet you thirteen to ten

that Sophy Cutler hooks either you or Mulligatawney before the rains.' 'Done,' says I; and egad, sirthis

A slight snore was the only reply: the honest stockbroker was asleep, and so the rest of Joseph's story was lost

for that day. But he was always exceedingly communicative in a man's party, and has told this delightful tale

many scores of times to his apothecary, Dr. Gollop, when he came to inquire about the liver and the

Being an invalid, Joseph Sedley contented himself with a bottle of claret besides his Madeira at dinner, and

he managed a couple of plates full of strawberries and cream, and twentyfour little rout cakes that were

lying neglected in a plate near him, and certainly (for novelists have the privilege of knowing everything) he

thought a great deal about the girl upstairs. "A nice, gay, merry young creature," thought he to himself. "How

she looked at me when I picked up her handkerchief at dinner! She dropped it twice. Who's that singing in the

But his modesty came rushing upon him with uncontrollable force. His father was asleep: his hat was in the

hall: there was a hackneycoach standing hard by in Southampton Row. "I'll go and see the Forty Thieves,"

said he, "and Miss Decamp's dance"; and he slipped away gently on the pointed toes of his boots, and

"There goes Joseph," said Amelia, who was looking from the open windows of the drawingroom, while

"Miss Sharp has frightened him away," said Mrs. Sedley. "Poor Joe, why WILL he be so shy?"

Poor Joe's panic lasted for two or three days; during which he did not visit the house, nor during that period

did Miss Rebecca ever mention his name. She was all respectful gratitude to Mrs. Sedley; delighted beyond

measure at the Bazaars; and in a whirl of wonder at the theatre, whither the goodnatured lady took her. One

day, Amelia had a headache, and could not go upon some party of pleasure to which the two young people

were invited: nothing could induce her friend to go without her. "What! you who have shown the poor orphan

what happiness and love are for the first time in her lifequit YOU? Never!" and the green eyes looked up

to Heaven and filled with tears; and Mrs. Sedley could not but own that her daughter's friend had a charming

As for Mr. Sedley's jokes, Rebecca laughed at them with a cordiality and perseverance which not a little

pleased and softened that goodnatured gentleman. Nor was it with the chiefs of the family alone that Miss

Sharp found favour. She interested Mrs. Blenkinsop by evincing the deepest sympathy in the raspberryjam

preserving, which operation was then going on in the Housekeeper's room; she persisted in calling Sambo

"Sir," and "Mr. Sambo," to the delight of that attendant; and she apologised to the lady's maid for giving her

trouble in venturing to ring the bell, with such sweetness and humility, that the Servants' Hall was almost as

Once, in looking over some drawings which Amelia had sent from school, Rebecca suddenly came upon one

which caused her to burst into tears and leave the room. It was on the day when Joe Sedley made his second

Amelia hastened after her friend to know the cause of this display of feeling, and the goodnatured girl came

back without her companion, rather affected too. "You know, her father was our drawingmaster, Mamma, at

Chiswick, and used to do all the best parts of our drawings." "My love! I'm sure I always heard Miss

Pinkerton say that he did not touch themhe only mounted them." "It was called mounting, Mamma.

Rebecca remembers the drawing, and her father working at it, and the thought of it came upon her rather

"She's devilish like Miss Cutler that I used to meet at Dumdum, only fairer. She's married now to Lance, the

"0 Joseph, we know that story," said Amelia, laughing. Never mind about telling that; but persuade Mamma

to write to Sir Something Crawley for leave of absence for poor dear Rebecca: here she comes, her eyes red

with weeping." "I'm better, now," said the girl, with the sweetest smile possible, taking goodnatured Mrs.

Sedley's extended hand and kissing it respectfully. "How kind you all are to me! All," she added, with a

laugh, "except you, Mr. Joseph." "Me!" said Joseph, meditating an instant departure "Gracious Heavens!

Good Gad! Miss Sharp!' "Yes; how could you be so cruel as to make me eat that horrid pepperdish at

dinner, the first day I ever saw you? You are not so good to me as dear Amelia." "He doesn't know you so

well," cried Amelia. "I defy anybody not to be good to you, my dear," said her mother. "The curry was

capital; indeed it was," said Joe, quite gravely. "Perhaps there was NOT enough citron juice in itno, there

"By Jove, how they made you cry out!" said Joe, caught by the ridicule of the circumstance, and exploding in

"I shall take care how I let YOU choose for me another time," said Rebecca, as they went down again to

"No," said she, "I KNOW you wouldn't"; and then she gave him ever so gentle a pressure with her little hand,

and drew it back quite frightened, and looked first for one instant in his face, and then down at the carpet

rods; and I am not prepared to say that Joe's heart did not thump at this little involuntary, timid, gentle motion

It was an advance, and as such, perhaps, some ladies of indisputable correctness and gentility will condemn

the action as immodest; but, you see, poor dear Rebecca had all this work to do for herself. If a person is too

poor to keep a servant, though ever so elegant, he must sweep his own rooms: if a dear girl has no dear

Mamma to settle matters with the young man, she must do it for herself. And oh, what a mercy it is that these

women do not exercise their powers oftener! We can't resist them, if they do. Let them show ever so little

inclination, and men go down on their knees at once: old or ugly, it is all the same. And this I set down as a

positive truth. A woman with fair opportunities, and without an absolute hump, may marry WHOM SHE

LIKES. Only let us be thankful that the darlings are like the beasts of the field, and don't know their own

"Egad!" thought Joseph, entering the diningroom, "I exactly begin to feel as I did at Dumdum with Miss

Cutler." Many sweet little appeals, half tender, half jocular, did Miss Sharp make to him about the dishes at

dinner; for by this time she was on a footing of considerable familiarity with the family, and as for the girls,

they loved each other like sisters. Young unmarried girls always do, if they are in a house together for ten

As if bent upon advancing Rebecca's plans in every waywhat must Amelia do, but remind her brother of a

promise made last Easter holidays"When I was a girl at school," said she, laughinga promise that he,

Joseph, would take her to Vauxhall. "Now," she said, "that Rebecca is with us, will be the very time."

"O, delightful!" said Rebecca, going to clap her hands; but she recollected herself, and paused, like a modest

"Tonight is not the night," said Joe. "Well, tomorrow." "Tomorrow your Papa and I dine out," said Mrs.

"You don't suppose that I'm going, Mrs. Sed?" said her husband, "and that a woman of your years and size is

"Let Joe go," saidhis father, laughing. "He's big enough." At which speech even Mr. Sambo at the sideboard

burst out laughing, and poor fat Joe felt inclined to become a parricide almost.

"Undo his stays!" continued the pitiless old gentleman. "Fling some water in his face, Miss Sharp, or carry

him upstairs: the dear creature's fainting. Poor victim! carry him up; he's as light as a feather!"

"Order Mr. Jos's elephant, Sambo!" cried the father. "Send to Exeter 'Change, Sambo"; but seeing Jos ready

almost to cry with vexation, the old joker stopped his laughter, and said, holding out his hand to his son, "It's

all fair on the Stock Exchange, Josand, Sambo, never mind the elephant, but give me and Mr. Jos a glass

A goblet of Champagne restored Joseph's equanimity, and before the bottle was emptied, of which as an

"The girls must have a gentleman apiece," said the old gentleman. "Jos will be sure to leave Emmy in the

crowd, he will be so taken up with Miss Sharp here. Send to 96, and ask George Osborne if he'll come."

At this, I don't know in the least for what reason, Mrs. Sedley looked at her husband and laughed. Mr.

Sedley's eyes twinkled in a manner indescribably roguish, and he looked at Amelia; and Amelia, hanging

down her head, blushed as only young ladies of seventeen know how to blush, and as Miss Rebecca Sharp

never blushed in her lifeat least not since she was eight years old, and when she was caught stealing jam

out of a cupboard by her godmother. "Amelia had better write a note," said her father; "and let George

Osborne see what a beautiful handwriting we have brought back from Miss Pinkerton's. Do you remember

when you wrote to him to come on Twelfthnight, Emmy, and spelt twelfth without the f?"

"It seems like yesterday, don't it, John?" said Mrs. Sedley to her husband; and that night in a conversation

which took place in a front room in the second floor, in a sort of tent, hung round with chintz of a rich and

fantastic India pattern, and double with calico of a tender rosecolour; in the interior of which species of

marquee was a featherbed, on which were two pillows, on which were two round red faces, one in a laced

nightcap, and one in a simple cotton one, ending in a tassel in A CURTAIN LECTURE, I say, Mrs. Sedley

"It was quite wicked of you, Mr. Sedley," said she, "to torment the poor boy so."

"My dear," said the cottontassel in defence of his conduct, "Jos is a great deal vainer than you ever were in

your life, and that's saying a good deal. Though, some thirty years ago, in the year seventeen hundred and

eightywhat was it?perhaps you had a right to be vainI don't say no. But I've no patience with Jos and

his dandified modesty. It is outJosephing Joseph, my dear, and all the while the boy is only thinking of

himself, and what a fine fellow he is. I doubt, Ma'am, we shall have some trouble with him yet. Here is

Emmy's little friend making love to him as hard as she can; that's quite clear; and if she does not catch him

some other will. That man is destined to be a prey to woman, as I am to go on 'Change every day. It's a mercy

he did not bring us over a black daughterinlaw, my dear. But, mark my words, the first woman who fishes

"She shall go off tomorrow, the little artful creature," said Mrs. Sedley, with great energy.

"Why not she as well as another, Mrs. Sedley? The girl's a white face at any rate. I don't care who marries

And presently the voices of the two speakers were hushed, or were replaced by the gentle but unromantic

music of the nose; and save when the church bells tolled the hour and the watchman called it, all was silent at

When morning came, the goodnatured Mrs. Sedley no longer thought of executing her threats with regard to

Miss Sharp; for though nothing is more keen, nor more common, nor more justifiable, than maternal jealousy,

yet she could not bring herself to suppose that the little, humble, grateful, gentle governess would dare to

look up to such a magnificent personage as the Collector of Boggley Wollah. The petition, too, for an

extension of the young lady's leave of absence had already been despatched, and it would be difficult to find a

And as if all things conspired in favour of the gentle Rebecca, the very elements (although she was not

inclined at first to acknowledge their action in her behalf) interposed to aid her. For on the evening appointed

for the Vauxhall party, George Osborne having come to dinner, and the elders of the house having departed,

according to invitation, to dine with Alderman Balls at Highbury Barn, there came on such a thunderstorm

as only happens on Vauxhall nights, and as obliged the young people, perforce, to remain at home. Mr.

Osborne did not seem in the least disappointed at this occurrence. He and Joseph Sedley drank a fitting

quantity of portwine, teteatete, in the diningroom, during the drinking of which Sedley told a number of

his best Indian stories; for he was extremely talkative in man's society; and afterwards Miss Amelia Sedley

did the honours of the drawingroom; and these four young persons passed such a comfortable evening

together, that they declared they were rather glad of the thunderstorm than otherwise, which had caused

Osborne was Sedley's godson, and had been one of the family any time these threeandtwenty years. At six

weeks old, he had received from John Sedley a present of a silver cup; at six months old, a coral with gold

whistle and bells; from his youth upwards he was "tipped" regularly by the old gentleman at Christmas: and

on going back to school, he remembered perfectly well being thrashed by Joseph Sedley, when the latter was

a big, swaggering hobbadyhoy, and George an impudent urchin of ten years old. In a word, George was as

familiar with the family as such daily acts of kindness and intercourse could make him.

"Do you remember, Sedley, what a fury you were in, when I cut off the tassels of your Hessian boots, and

how Misshem!how Amelia rescued me from a beating, by falling down on her knees and crying out to

Jos remembered this remarkable circumstance perfectly well, but vowed that he had totally forgotten it.

"Well, do you remember coming down in a gig to Dr. Swishtail's to see me, before you went to India, and

giving me half a guinea and a pat on the head? I always had an idea that you were at least seven feet high, and

was quite astonished at your return from India to find you no taller than myself."

"How good of Mr. Sedley to go to your school and give you the money!" exclaimed Rebecca, in accents of

"Yes, and after I had cut the tassels of his boots too. Boys never forget those tips at school, nor the givers."

"I delight in Hessian boots," said Rebecca. Jos Sedley, who admired his own legs prodigiously, and always

wore this ornamental chaussure, was extremely pleased at this remark, though he drew his legs under his

"Miss Sharp!" said George Osborne, "you who are so clever an artist, you must make a grand historical

picture of the scene of the boots. Sedley shall be represented in buckskins, and holding one of the injured

boots in one hand; by the other he shall have hold of my shirtfrill. Amelia shall be kneeling near him, with

her little hands up; and the picture shall have a grand allegorical title, as the frontispieces have in the Medulla

"I shan't have time to do it here," said Rebecca. 'I'll do it whenwhen I'm gone." And she dropped her voice,

and looked so sad and piteous, that everybody felt how cruel her lot was, and how sorry they would be to part

"Why?" answered the other, still more sadly. "That I may be only the more unhapunwilling to lose you?"

And she turned away her head. Amelia began to give way to that natural infirmity of tears which, we have

said, was one of the defects of this silly little thing. George Osborne looked at the two young women with a

touched curiosity; and Joseph Sedley heaved something very like a sigh out of his big chest, as he cast his

"Let us have some music, Miss SedleyAmelia," said George, who felt at that moment an extraordinary,

almost irresistible impulse to seize the abovementioned young woman in his arms, and to kiss her in the

face of the company; and she looked at him for a moment, and if I should say that they fell in love with each

other at that single instant of time, I should perhaps be telling an untruth, for the fact is that these two young

people had been bred up by their parents for this very purpose, and their banns had, as it were, been read in

their respective families any time these ten years. They went off to the piano, which was situated, as pianos

usually are, in the back drawingroom; and as it was rather dark, Miss Amelia, in the most unaffected way in

the world, put her hand into Mr. Osborne's, who, of course, could see the way among the chairs and ottomans

a great deal better than she could. But this arrangement left Mr. Joseph Sedley teteatete with Rebecca, at

the drawingroom table, where the latter was occupied in knitting a green silk purse.

"There is no need to ask family secrets," said Miss Sharp. "Those two have told theirs."

"As soon as he gets his company," said Joseph, "I believe the affair is settled. George Osborne is a capital

"And your sister the dearest creature in the world," said Rebecca. "Happy the man who wins her!" With this,

When two unmarried persons get together, and talk upon such delicate subjects as the present, a great deal of

confidence and intimacy is presently established between them. There is no need of giving a special report of

the conversation which now took place between Mr. Sedley and the young lady; for the conversation, as may

be judged from the foregoing specimen, was not especially witty or eloquent; it seldom is in private societies,

or anywhere except in very highflown and ingenious novels. As there was music in the next room, the talk

was carried on, of course, in a low and becoming tone, though, for the matter of that, the couple in the next

apartment would not have been disturbed had the talking been ever so loud, so occupied were they with their

Almost for the first time in his life, Mr. Sedley found himself talking, without the least timidity or hesitation,

to a person of the other sex. Miss Rebecca asked him a great number of questions about India, which gave

him an opportunity of narrating many interesting anecdotes about that country and himself. He described the

balls at Government House, and the manner in which they kept themselves cool in the hot weather, with

punkahs, tatties, and other contrivances; and he was very witty regarding the number of Scotchmen whom

Lord Minto, the GovernorGeneral, patronised; and then he described a tigerhunt; and the manner in which

the mahout of his elephant had been pulled off his seat by one of the infuriated animals. How delighted Miss

Rebecca was at the Government balls, and how she laughed at the stories of the Scotch aidesdecamp, and

called Mr. Sedley a sad wicked satirical creature; and how frightened she was Joseph Sedley teteatete with

Rebecca, at the drawingroom table, where the latter was occupied in knitting a green silk purse.