"Well, well; let's ask Mrs. George," said that arch-diplomatist of a Major. "Only let us go and consult her. I suppose you will allow that she is a good judge at any rate, and knows what is right in such matters."
"Hm! Emmy is very well," said Jos, who did not happen to be in love with his sister.
"Very well? By Gad, sir, she's the finest lady I ever met in my life," bounced out the Major. "I say at once, let us go and ask her if this woman ought to be visited or not--I will be content with her verdict." Now this odious, artful rogue of a Major was thinking in his own mind that he was sure of his case. Emmy, he remembered, was at one time cruelly and deservedly jealous of Rebecca, never mentioned her name but with a shrinking and terror--a jealous woman never forgives, thought Dobbin: and so the pair went across the street to Mrs. George's house, where she was contentedly warbling at a music lesson with Madame Strumpff.

"Well, well; let's ask Mrs. George," said the Major. "Let us go and consult her. She knows what is right in such matters."
"Hm! Emmy is all very well," said Jos, who did not happen to be in love with his sister.
"Very well? By Gad, sir, she's the finest lady I ever met in my life," bounced out the Major. "Let us ask her if this woman ought to be visited or not - I will be content with her verdict." The artful Major was thinking that Emmy had been deservedly jealous of Rebecca, never mentioning her name but with shrinking and terror. And a jealous woman never forgives, thought Dobbin: so they went to ask her.
