Georgy came in from the fetes for dinner-time and found four covers laid as usual; but one of the places was occupied by a lady, instead of by Major Dobbin. "Hullo! where's Dob?" the young gentleman asked with his usual simplicity of language. "Major Dobbin is dining out, I suppose," his mother said, and, drawing the boy to her, kissed him a great deal, and put his hair off his forehead, and introduced him to Mrs. Crawley. "This is my boy, Rebecca," Mrs. Osborne said--as much as to say--can the world produce anything like that? Becky looked at him with rapture and pressed his hand fondly. "Dear boy!" she said--"he is just like my--" Emotion choked her further utterance, but Amelia understood, as well as if she had spoken, that Becky was thinking of her own blessed child. However, the company of her friend consoled Mrs. Crawley, and she ate a very good dinner.

Georgy came in from the fetes at dinner-time to find a lady at the table instead of Major Dobbin.
"Hullo! where's Dob?" he asked.
"Major Dobbin is dining out, I suppose," his mother said, and, drawing the boy to her, kissed him, and introduced him to Mrs. Crawley. "This is my boy, Rebecca," Mrs. Osborne said - as much as to say, can the world produce anything like that?
Becky looked at him with rapture and pressed his hand fondly. "Dear boy!" she said. "He is just like my-" Emotion choked her speech, but Amelia understood.
However, Mrs. Crawley ate a very good dinner. 