At Brussels Becky arrived, recommended by Madame de Saint Amour to her friend, Madame la Comtesse de Borodino, widow of Napoleon's General, the famous Count de Borodino, who was left with no resource by the deceased hero but that of a table d'hote and an ecarte table. Second-rate dandies and roues, widow-ladies who always have a lawsuit, and very simple English folks, who fancy they see "Continental society" at these houses, put down their money, or ate their meals, at Madame de Borodino's tables. The gallant young fellows treated the company round to champagne at the table d'hote, rode out with the women, or hired horses on country excursions, clubbed money to take boxes at the play or the opera, betted over the fair shoulders of the ladies at the ecarte tables, and wrote home to their parents in Devonshire about their felicitous introduction to foreign society.
Here, as at Paris, Becky was a boarding-house queen, and ruled in select pensions. She never refused the champagne, or the bouquets, or the drives into the country, or the private boxes; but what she preferred was the ecarte at night,--and she played audaciously. First she played only for a little, then for five-franc pieces, then for Napoleons, then for notes: then she would not be able to pay her month's pension: then she borrowed from the young gentlemen: then she got into cash again and bullied Madame de Borodino, whom she had coaxed and wheedled before: then she was playing for ten sous at a time, and in a dire state of poverty: then her quarter's allowance would come in, and she would pay off Madame de Borodino's score and would once more take the cards against Monsieur de Rossignol, or the Chevalier de Raff.
When Becky left Brussels, the sad truth is that she owed three months' pension to Madame de Borodino, of which fact, and of the gambling, and of the drinking, and of the going down on her knees to the Reverend Mr. Muff, Ministre Anglican, and borrowing money of him, and of her coaxing and flirting with Milor Noodle, son of Sir Noodle, pupil of the Rev. Mr. Muff, whom she used to take into her private room, and of whom she won large sums at ecarte--of which fact, I say, and of a hundred of her other knaveries, the Countess de Borodino informs every English person who stops at her establishment, and announces that Madame Rawdon was no better than a vipere.
So our little wanderer went about setting up her tent in various cities of Europe, as restless as Ulysses or Bampfylde Moore Carew. Her taste for disrespectability grew more and more remarkable. She became a perfect Bohemian ere long, herding with people whom it would make your hair stand on end to meet.

At Brussels Becky was recommended by Madame de Saint Amour to her friend, Madame la Comtesse de Borodino, widow of Napoleon's General, the famous Count de Borodino, who after the war was left with nothing but a hotel and cart tables. Second-rate dandies and rous, widow-ladies with a lawsuit, and very simple English folks put down their money at Madame de Borodino's tables. The gallant young fellows treated the company to champagne, rode out with the women, or hired horses on country excursions. They clubbed together to take boxes at the play or the opera, betted over the fair shoulders of the ladies at the tables, and wrote home to their parents in Devonshire about their happy introduction to foreign society.
Here, as at Paris, Becky was a boarding-house queen. She never refused the champagne, or the bouquets, or the drives into the country, or the private boxes; but what she preferred was the cart at night - and she played audaciously. First she played only for a little, then for five-franc pieces, then for Napoleons, then for notes: then she would not be able to pay for her month's board, and borrowed from the young gentlemen: then she got cash again and bullied Madame de Borodino, whom she had wheedled before: then she was playing for ten sous at a time, and in a dire state of poverty: then her quarter's allowance would come in, and she would pay Madame de Borodino's bill and once more take the cards against the Chevalier de Raff.
When Becky left Brussels, she owed three months' pension to Madame de Borodino - and this, and the gambling, and the drinking, and the begging of money from the Reverend Mr. Muff, and the flirting with young Milor Noodle, whom she used to take into her private room, and from whom she won large sums at cart - of these and a hundred other knaveries, the Countess de Borodino informed every English person who stayed at her house.
So our little wanderer went about setting up her tent in various cities of Europe, as restless as Ulysses. She soon became a perfect Bohemian, herding with people whom it would make your hair stand on end to meet.
