There would be the place where he should tell her.

Major decided to tell her this news there.


The Major went home, and dressed himself in his uniform, and repaired to Court, in hopes to see Mrs. Osborne.

He went home, dressed in his uniform, and repaired to Court, in hopes to see Mrs. Osborne.


When he returned to his lodgings all the lights in the Sedley tenement were put out.

When he returned to his lodgings all the lights in the Sedley house were out.


I don't know what sort of a night's rest he had with this frightful secret in bed with him.


At the earliest convenient hour in the morning he sent his servant across the way with a note, saying that he wished very particularly to speak with her.

Early in the morning he sent his servant across the way with a note, saying that he wished very particularly to speak with her.


A message came back to say that Mrs. Osborne was exceedingly unwell and was keeping her room.

A message came back to say that Mrs. Osborne was exceedingly unwell and was keeping to her room.


She, too, had been awake all that night.


She had been thinking of a thing which had agitated her mind a hundred times before.

, thinking of something which had agitated her mind a hundred times before.


A hundred times on the point of yielding, she had shrunk back from a sacrifice which she felt was too much for her.


She couldn't, in spite of his love and constancy and her own acknowledged regard, respect, and gratitude.

She couldn't, in spite of Dobbins's love and constancy, and her own respect and gratitude.


What are benefits, what is constancy, or merit?


One curl of a girl's ringlet, one hair of a whisker, will turn the scale against them all in a minute.

One curl of a girl's ringlet, one hair of a whisker, will turn the scale against them in a minute.


They did not weigh with Emmy more than with other women.


She had tried them; wanted to make them pass; could not; and the pitiless little woman had found a pretext, and determined to be free.


When at length, in the afternoon, the Major gained admission to Amelia, instead of the cordial and affectionate greeting, to which he had been accustomed now for many a long day, he received the salutation of a curtsey, and of a little gloved hand, retracted the moment after it was accorded to him.

When, in the afternoon, the Major gained admission to Amelia, instead of the usual cordial and affectionate greeting, he received a curtsey, and a little gloved hand, retracted the moment after it was offered.


Rebecca, too, was in the room, and advanced to meet him with a smile and an extended hand.

Rebecca, too, was in the room, and advanced to meet him with a smile.


Dobbin drew back rather confusedly, "I--I beg your pardon, m'am," he said; "but I am bound to tell you that it is not as your friend that I am come here now."

Dobbin drew back rather confusedly.
"I - I beg your pardon, m'am," he said; "but I am bound to tell you that it is not as your friend that I am come here."


damn; don't let us have this sort of thing!"


Jos cried out, alarmed, and anxious to get rid of a scene.


"I wonder what Major Dobbin has to say against Rebecca?"


Amelia said in a low, clear voice with a slight quiver in it, and a very determined look about the eyes.


"I will not have this sort of thing in my house," Jos again interposed.


"I say I will not have it; and Dobbin, I beg, sir, you'll stop it."


And he looked round, trembling and turning very red, and gave a great puff, and made for his door.

And trembling and turning very red, he gave a great puff, and made for his door.


Rebecca said with angelic sweetness, "do hear what Major Dobbin has to say against me."


"I will not hear it, I say," squeaked out Jos at the top of his voice, and, gathering up his dressing-gown, he was gone.

"I will not hear it," squeaked out Jos at the top of his voice, and he was gone.


"This manner towards me is one which scarcely becomes you, Amelia," the Major answered haughtily; "nor I believe am I guilty of habitual harshness to women.

"This manner towards me scarcely becomes you, Amelia," the Major answered haughtily; "nor, I believe, am I guilty of habitual harshness to women.


It is not a pleasure to me to do the duty which I am come to do."


"Pray proceed with it quickly, if you please, Major Dobbin," said Amelia, who was more and more in a pet.


The expression of Dobbin's face, as she spoke in this imperious manner, was not pleasant.


"I came to say--and as you stay, Mrs. Crawley, I must say it in your presence--that I think you--you ought not to form a member of the family of my friends.

"I came to say - and I must say it in your presence, Mrs. Crawley - that I think you ought not to form a member of the family of my friends.


A lady who is separated from her husband, who travels not under her own name, who frequents public gaming-tables--"

A lady who is separated from her husband, who travels not under her own name, who frequents public gaming-tables-"


"It was to the ball I went," cried out Becky.


"--is not a fit companion for Mrs. Osborne and her son," Dobbin went on: "and I may add that there are people here who know you, and who profess to know that regarding your conduct about which I don't even wish to speak before--before Mrs. Osborne."

"-is not a fit companion for Mrs. Osborne and her son," Dobbin went on: "and I may add that there are people here who know that regarding your conduct about which I don't even wish to speak before Mrs. Osborne."


"Yours is a very modest and convenient sort of calumny, Major Dobbin," Rebecca said.

"Yours is a very convenient sort of calumny, Major Dobbin," Rebecca said.


"You leave me under the weight of an accusation which, after all, is unsaid.


I scorn it and defy anybody to prove it--I defy you, I say.

I scorn it and defy anybody to prove it.


My honour is as untouched as that of the bitterest enemy who ever maligned me.


Is it of being poor, forsaken, wretched, that you accuse me?


Yes, I am guilty of those faults, and punished for them every day.


It is only to suppose that I have not met you, and I am no worse to-day than I was yesterday.

I am no worse off today than I was yesterday.


It is only to suppose that the night is over and the poor wanderer is on her way.


Don't you remember the song we used to sing in old, dear old days?

Don't you remember the song we used to sing in dear old days?


I have been wandering ever since then--a poor castaway, scorned for being miserable, and insulted because I am alone.

I have been wandering ever since then - a poor castaway.


Let me go: my stay here interferes with the plans of this gentleman."


"Indeed it does, madam," said the Major.


"If I have any authority in this house--"

"If I have any authority in this house-"


broke out Amelia "Rebecca, you stay with me.

broke out Amelia. "Rebecca, you stay with me.


I won't desert you because you have been persecuted, or insult you because--because Major Dobbin chooses to do so.

I won't insult you because Major Dobbin chooses to do so.


And the two women made towards the door.


As they were going out, however, he took Amelia's hand and said--"Will you stay a moment and speak to me?"

As they were going out, however, he took Amelia's hand and said, "Will you stay a moment and speak to me?"


"He wishes to speak to you away from me," said Becky, looking like a martyr.


"Upon my honour it is not about you that I am going to speak," Dobbin said.


Dobbin bowed to Mrs. Crawley, as he shut the door upon her.


Amelia looked at him, leaning against the glass: her face and her lips were quite white.

Amelia looked at him: her face and her lips were quite white.


"I was confused when I spoke just now," the Major said after a pause, "and I misused the word authority."


"You did," said Amelia with her teeth chattering.


"At least I have claims to be heard," Dobbin continued.


"It is generous to remind me of our obligations to you," the woman answered.

"It is generous to remind me of our obligations to you."


"The claims I mean are those left me by George's father," William said.

"The claims I mean are those left me by George's father," he said.


She shot out each little sentence in a tremor of anger and emotion.


"You don't mean that these words, uttered in a hurried moment, are to weigh against a whole life's devotion?


I think that George's memory has not been injured by the way in which I have dealt with it, and if we are come to bandying reproaches, I at least merit none from his widow and the mother of his son.


Reflect, afterwards when--when you are at leisure, and your conscience will withdraw this accusation.

Reflect, afterwards when you are at leisure, and your conscience will withdraw this accusation.


"It is not that speech of yesterday," he continued, "which moves you.


That is but the pretext, Amelia, or I have loved you and watched you for fifteen years in vain.

That is only the pretext, Amelia, or I have loved you and watched you for fifteen years in vain.


Have I not learned in that time to read all your feelings and look into your thoughts?

Have I not learned to read all your feelings and look into your thoughts?


I know what your heart is capable of: it can cling faithfully to a recollection and cherish a fancy, but it can't feel such an attachment as mine deserves to mate with, and such as I would have won from a woman more generous than you.


No, you are not worthy of the love which I have devoted to you.


I knew all along that the prize I had set my life on was not worth the winning; that I was a fool, with fond fancies, too, bartering away my all of truth and ardour against your little feeble remnant of love.

I knew all along that the prize I had set my life on was not worth the winning; that I was a fool, with fond fancies, bartering away my truth and ardour against your little feeble remnant of love.


You are very good-natured, and have done your best, but you couldn't--you couldn't reach up to the height of the attachment which I bore you, and which a loftier soul than yours might have been proud to share.

You are very good-natured, and have done your best, but you couldn't - you couldn't reach up to the height of the attachment which I bore you, and which a loftier soul than yours might have been proud to share.


Amelia stood scared and silent as William thus suddenly broke the chain by which she held him and declared his independence and superiority.


He had placed himself at her feet so long that the poor little woman had been accustomed to trample upon him.


She didn't wish to marry him, but she wished to keep him.


She wished to give him nothing, but that he should give her all.


It is a bargain not unfrequently levied in love.


William's sally had quite broken and cast her down.


HER assault was long since over and beaten back.


"Am I to understand then, that you are going--away, William?"

"Am I to understand then, that you are going - away, William?"


"I went once before," he said, "and came back after twelve years.

"I went once before, and came back after twelve years.


I have spent enough of my life at this play."


Whilst they had been talking, the door into Mrs. Osborne's room had opened ever so little; indeed, Becky had kept a hold of the handle and had turned it on the instant when Dobbin quitted it, and she heard every word of the conversation that had passed between these two.

Whilst they had been talking, the door into Mrs. Osborne's room had opened ever so little; indeed, Becky had kept hold of the handle, and heard every word of the conversation.


"What a noble heart that man has," she thought, "and how shamefully that woman plays with it!"


She admired Dobbin; she bore him no rancour for the part he had taken against her.


It was an open move in the game, and played fairly.


she thought, "if I could have had such a husband as that--a man with a heart and brains too!

she thought, "if I could have had such a husband as that - a man with a heart and brains too!


I would not have minded his large feet"; and running into her room, she absolutely bethought herself of something, and wrote him a note, beseeching him to stop for a few days--not to think of going--and that she could serve him with A.

I would not have minded his large feet."
Running into her room, she wrote him a note, beseeching him to stop for a few days - not to think of going - that she could help him with A.


Once more poor William walked to the door and was gone; and the little widow, the author of all this work, had her will, and had won her victory, and was left to enjoy it as she best might.

Once more poor William walked to the door and was gone; and the little widow had her will, and had won her victory, and was left to enjoy it as she best might.


At the romantic hour of dinner, Mr. Georgy made his appearance and again remarked the absence of "Old Dob."

At dinner, Mr. Georgy again remarked the absence of "Old Dob."


The meal was eaten in silence by the party.


Jos's appetite not being diminished, but Emmy taking nothing at all.

Jos's appetite was not diminished, but Emmy ate nothing at all.


After the meal, Georgy was lolling in the cushions of the old window, a large window, with three sides of glass abutting from the gable, and commanding on one side the market-place, where the Elephant is, his mother being busy hard by, when he remarked symptoms of movement at the Major's house on the other side of the street.

After the meal, Georgy was lolling in the cushions of the old bay-window, which looked out on the market-place, when he noticed movement at the Major's house on the other side of the street.


said he, "there's Dob's trap--they are bringing it out of the court-yard."

said he, "there's Dob's carriage - they are bringing it out of the court-yard."


The "trap" in question was a carriage which the Major had bought for six pounds sterling, and about which they used to rally him a good deal.


Emmy gave a little start, but said nothing.


Georgy continued, "there's Francis coming out with the portmanteaus, and Kunz, the one-eyed postilion, coming down the market with three schimmels.

Georgy continued, "there's Francis coming out with the portmanteaus, and the postilion.


Look at his boots and yellow jacket--ain't he a rum one?


Why--they're putting the horses to Dob's carriage.

Why - they're putting the horses to Dob's carriage.


"Yes," said Emmy, "he is going on a journey."


"Going on a journey; and when is he coming back?"


"He is--not coming back," answered Emmy.

"He is - not coming back," answered Emmy.


"Stay, Georgy," said his mother with a very sad face.


The boy stopped, kicked about the room, jumped up and down from the window-seat with his knees, and showed every symptom of uneasiness and curiosity.

The boy stopped, kicked about the room, and jumped up and down from the window-seat with uneasiness and curiosity.


Francis came out with his master's sword, cane, and umbrella tied up together, and laid them in the well, and his desk and old tin cocked-hat case, which he placed under the seat.

Francis came out with his master's sword, cane, and umbrella, and laid them in the carriage, and placed his desk and old tin cocked-hat case under the seat.


Francis brought out the stained old blue cloak lined with red camlet, which had wrapped the owner up any time these fifteen years, and had manchen Sturm erlebt, as a favourite song of those days said.

Next Francis brought out the stained old blue cloak which had wrapped its owner up any time these fifteen years.


It had been new for the campaign of Waterloo and had covered George and William after the night of Quatre Bras.


Old Burcke, the landlord of the lodgings, came out, then Francis, with more packages--final packages--then Major William--Burcke wanted to kiss him.

Old Burcke, the landlord of the lodgings, came out, and then Major William - Burcke wanted to kiss him.


The Major was adored by all people with whom he had to do.


It was with difficulty he could escape from this demonstration of attachment.

It was with difficulty that he could escape.


"Give him this," said Becky, quite interested, and put a paper into the boy's hand.


He had rushed down the stairs and flung across the street in a minute--the yellow postilion was cracking his whip gently.

He rushed down the stairs and flung across the street.


William had got into the carriage, released from the embraces of his landlord.


George bounded in afterwards, and flung his arms round the Major's neck (as they saw from the window), and began asking him multiplied questions.

but George bounded in after, and flung his arms round the Major's neck, asking him multiplied questions.


Then he felt in his waistcoat pocket and gave him a note.


William seized at it rather eagerly, he opened it trembling, but instantly his countenance changed, and he tore the paper in two and dropped it out of the carriage.

William seized it eagerly, and opened it trembling; but instantly his face changed. He tore the paper in two and dropped it out of the carriage.


He kissed Georgy on the head, and the boy got out, doubling his fists into his eyes, and with the aid of Francis.

He kissed Georgy on the head, and the boy got out, doubling his fists into his eyes.


The yellow postilion cracked his whip prodigiously, up sprang Francis to the box, away went the schimmels, and Dobbin with his head on his breast.

The postilion cracked his whip, up sprang Francis to the box, and away went Dobbin.


He never looked up as they passed under Amelia's window, and Georgy, left alone in the street, burst out crying in the face of all the crowd.

He never looked up as they passed under Amelia's window, and Georgy, left alone in the street, burst out crying.


Emmy's maid heard him howling again during the night and brought him some preserved apricots to console him.


All the poor, all the humble, all honest folks, all good men who knew him, loved that kind-hearted and simple gentleman.

All the poor, honest folks loved that kind-hearted and simple gentleman.


She had her picture of George for a consolation.


All the world knows that Lord Steyne's town palace stands in Gaunt Square, out of which Great Gaunt Street leads, whither we first conducted Rebecca, in the time of the departed Sir Pitt Crawley.

All the world knows that Lord Steyne's town palace stands in Gaunt Square.


Peering over the railings and through the black trees into the garden of the Square, you see a few miserable governesses with wan-faced pupils wandering round and round it, and round the dreary grass-plot in the centre of which rises the statue of Lord Gaunt, who fought at Minden, in a three-tailed wig, and otherwise habited like a Roman Emperor.

Peering over the railings and through the black trees into the central garden of the Square, you see a few miserable governesses with wan-faced pupils wandering round and round it.


Gaunt House occupies nearly a side of the Square.


The remaining three sides are composed of mansions that have passed away into dowagerism--tall, dark houses, with window-frames of stone, or picked out of a lighter red.

The remaining three sides are composed of tall, dark houses, with


Little light seems to be behind those lean, comfortless casements now, and hospitality to have passed away from those doors as much as the laced lacqueys and link-boys of old times, who used to put out their torches in the blank iron extinguishers that still flank the lamps over the steps.


Brass plates have penetrated into the square--Doctors, the Diddlesex Bank Western Branch--the English and European Reunion, &c.--it has a dreary look--nor is my Lord Steyne's palace less dreary.

 windows, and with brass plates - Doctors, Banks, etc.
The Square has a dreary look - nor is my Lord Steyne's palace less dreary


All I have ever seen of it is the vast wall in front, with the rustic columns at the great gate, through which an old porter peers sometimes with a fat and gloomy red face--and over the wall the garret and bedroom windows, and the chimneys, out of which there seldom comes any smoke now.

, with its vast front wall, rustic columns and chimneys, out of which there seldom comes any smoke now


For the present Lord Steyne lives at Naples, preferring the view of the Bay and Capri and Vesuvius to the dreary aspect of the wall in Gaunt Square.

; for the present Lord Steyne lives at Naples.


A few score yards down New Gaunt Street, and leading into Gaunt Mews indeed, is a little modest back door, which you would not remark from that of any of the other stables.

A hundred yards down New Gaunt Street is a little modest back door, which you would not distinguish from any other.


But many a little close carriage has stopped at that door, as my informant (little Tom Eaves, who knows everything, and who showed me the place) told me.


"The Prince and Perdita have been in and out of that door, sir," he had often told me; "Marianne Clarke has entered it with the Duke of ------.


It conducts to the famous petits appartements of Lord Steyne--one, sir, fitted up all in ivory and white satin, another in ebony and black velvet; there is a little banqueting-room taken from Sallust's house at Pompeii, and painted by Cosway--a little private kitchen, in which every saucepan was silver and all the spits were gold.

But many a closed carriage has stopped at that door, and many a lady has been seen going in and out; for it leads to the famous petits appartements of Lord Steyne - one fitted up in ivory and white satin, and another in ebony and black velvet; there is a little banqueting-room and a private kitchen.


It was there that Egalite Orleans roasted partridges on the night when he and the Marquis of Steyne won a hundred thousand from a great personage at ombre.


Half of the money went to the French Revolution, half to purchase Lord Gaunt's Marquisate and Garter--and the remainder--" but it forms no part of our scheme to tell what became of the remainder, for every shilling of which, and a great deal more, little Tom Eaves, who knows everybody's affairs, is ready to account.


Besides his town palace, the Marquis had castles and palaces in various quarters of the three kingdoms, whereof the descriptions may be found in the road-books--Castle Strongbow, with its woods, on the Shannon shore; Gaunt Castle, in Carmarthenshire, where Richard II was taken prisoner--Gauntly Hall in Yorkshire, where I have been informed there were two hundred silver teapots for the breakfasts of the guests of the house, with everything to correspond in splendour; and Stillbrook in Hampshire, which was my lord's farm, an humble place of residence, of which we all remember the wonderful furniture which was sold at my lord's demise by a late celebrated auctioneer.

Besides his town palace, the Marquis had various other castles - Castle Strongbow, in Ireland; Gaunt Castle, in Wales; the grand Gauntly Hall in Yorkshire, and Stillbrook in Hampshire, which was my lord's farm, a humble residence, of which we all remember the wonderful furniture which was sold on my lord's death.


The Marchioness of Steyne was of the renowned and ancient family of the Caerlyons, Marquises of Camelot, who have preserved the old faith ever since the conversion of the venerable Druid, their first ancestor, and whose pedigree goes far beyond the date of the arrival of King Brute in these islands.

The Marchioness of Steyne was of the ancient family of the Caerlyons, Marquises of Camelot, who have preserved the old Catholic faith ever since the conversion of the venerable Druid, their first ancestor.


Pendragon is the title of the eldest son of the house.


The sons have been called Arthurs, Uthers, and Caradocs, from immemorial time.

The sons have been called Arthurs, Uthers, and Caradocs, from time immemorial.


Their heads have fallen in many a loyal conspiracy.


Elizabeth chopped off the head of the Arthur of her day, who had been Chamberlain to Philip and Mary, and carried letters between the Queen of Scots and her uncles the Guises.

Elizabeth chopped off the head of the Arthur of her day.


A cadet of the house was an officer of the great Duke and distinguished in the famous Saint Bartholomew conspiracy.


During the whole of Mary's confinement, the house of Camelot conspired in her behalf.


It was as much injured by its charges in fitting out an armament against the Spaniards, during the time of the Armada, as by the fines and confiscations levied on it by Elizabeth for harbouring of priests, obstinate recusancy, and popish misdoings.


A recreant of James's time was momentarily perverted from his religion by the arguments of that great theologian, and the fortunes of the family somewhat restored by his timely weakness.

A recreant of James's time was momentarily perverted from his religion, and the fortunes of the family somewhat restored.


But the Earl of Camelot, of the reign of Charles, returned to the old creed of his family, and they continued to fight for it, and ruin themselves for it, as long as there was a Stuart left to head or to instigate a rebellion.

But the Earl of Camelot, in the reign of Charles, returned to the old creed of his family, and they fought and ruined themselves for it, as long as there was a Stuart left to head a rebellion.


Lady Mary Caerlyon was brought up at a Parisian convent; the Dauphiness Marie Antoinette was her godmother.

The beautiful Lady Mary Caerlyon was brought up at a Parisian convent


In the pride of her beauty she had been married--sold, it was said--to Lord Gaunt, then at Paris, who won vast sums from the lady's brother at some of Philip of Orleans's banquets.

, before being married - or sold, it was said - to Lord Gaunt, who won vast sums from the lady's brother.


The Earl of Gaunt's famous duel with the Count de la Marche, of the Grey Musqueteers, was attributed by common report to the pretensions of that officer (who had been a page, and remained a favourite of the Queen) to the hand of the beautiful Lady Mary Caerlyon.

The Earl of Gaunt's famous duel with the Count de la Marche was because of that officer's pretensions to the hand of Lady Mary.


She was married to Lord Gaunt while the Count lay ill of his wound, and came to dwell at Gaunt House, and to figure for a short time in the splendid Court of the Prince of Wales.

She was married to Lord Gaunt while the Count lay ill of his wound, and came to dwell at Gaunt House, and to be admired at court


Morris and Sheridan had written songs about her.


Malmesbury had made her his best bow; Walpole had pronounced her charming; Devonshire had been almost jealous of her; but she was scared by the wild pleasures and gaieties of the society into which she was flung, and after she had borne a couple of sons, shrank away into a life of devout seclusion.


No wonder that my Lord Steyne, who liked pleasure and cheerfulness, was not often seen after their marriage by the side of this trembling, silent, superstitious, unhappy lady.

No wonder that my Lord Steyne, who liked pleasure and cheerfulness, was not often seen after their marriage alongside this trembling, silent, superstitious, unhappy lady.


The before-mentioned Tom Eaves (who has no part in this history, except that he knew all the great folks in London, and the stories and mysteries of each family) had further information regarding my Lady Steyne, which may or may not be true.


"The humiliations," Tom used to say, "which that woman has been made to undergo, in her own house, have been frightful; Lord Steyne has made her sit down to table with women with whom I would rather die than allow Mrs. Eaves to associate--with Lady Crackenbury, with Mrs. Chippenham, with Madame de la Cruchecassee, the French secretary's wife (from every one of which ladies Tom Eaves--who would have sacrificed his wife for knowing them--was too glad to get a bow or a dinner) with the REIGNING FAVOURITE in a word.

It was said that Lord Steyne made her sit down to table with women of doubtful reputation: in a word, with his reigning favourite.


And do you suppose that that woman, of that family, who are as proud as the Bourbons, and to whom the Steynes are but lackeys, mushrooms of yesterday (for after all, they are not of the Old Gaunts, but of a minor and doubtful branch of the house); do you suppose, I say (the reader must bear in mind that it is always Tom Eaves who speaks) that the Marchioness of Steyne, the haughtiest woman in England, would bend down to her husband so submissively if there were not some cause?


I tell you that, in the emigration, the Abbe de la Marche who was here and was employed in the Quiberoon business with Puisaye and Tinteniac, was the same Colonel of Mousquetaires Gris with whom Steyne fought in the year '86--that he and the Marchioness met again--that it was after the Reverend Colonel was shot in Brittany that Lady Steyne took to those extreme practices of devotion which she carries on now; for she is closeted with her director every day--she is at service at Spanish Place, every morning, I've watched her there--that is, I've happened to be passing there--and depend on it, there's a mystery in her case.


People are not so unhappy unless they have something to repent of," added Tom Eaves with a knowing wag of his head; "and depend on it, that woman would not be so submissive as she is if the Marquis had not some sword to hold over her."

ary would not be so submissive unless the Marquis had some mysterious sword to hold over her.


So, if Mr. Eaves's information be correct, it is very likely that this lady, in her high station, had to submit to many a private indignity and to hide many secret griefs under a calm face.


And let us, my brethren who have not our names in the Red Book, console ourselves by thinking comfortably how miserable our betters may be, and that Damocles, who sits on satin cushions and is served on gold plate, has an awful sword hanging over his head in the shape of a bailiff, or an hereditary disease, or a family secret, which peeps out every now and then from the embroidered arras in a ghastly manner, and will be sure to drop one day or the other in the right place.


In comparing, too, the poor man's situation with that of the great, there is (always according to Mr. Eaves) another source of comfort for the former.


You who have little or no patrimony to bequeath or to inherit, may be on good terms with your father or your son, whereas the heir of a great prince, such as my Lord Steyne, must naturally be angry at being kept out of his kingdom, and eye the occupant of it with no very agreeable glances.


"Take it as a rule," this sardonic old Eaves would say, "the fathers and elder sons of all great families hate each other.


The Crown Prince is always in opposition to the crown or hankering after it.


Shakespeare knew the world, my good sir, and when he describes Prince Hal (from whose family the Gaunts pretend to be descended, though they are no more related to John of Gaunt than you are) trying on his father's coronet, he gives you a natural description of all heirs apparent.


If you were heir to a dukedom and a thousand pounds a day, do you mean to say you would not wish for possession?


And it stands to reason that every great man, having experienced this feeling towards his father, must be aware that his son entertains it towards himself; and so they can't but be suspicious and hostile.


"Then again, as to the feeling of elder towards younger sons.


My dear sir, you ought to know that every elder brother looks upon the cadets of the house as his natural enemies, who deprive him of so much ready money which ought to be his by right.


I have often heard George Mac Turk, Lord Bajazet's eldest son, say that if he had his will when he came to the title, he would do what the sultans do, and clear the estate by chopping off all his younger brothers' heads at once; and so the case is, more or less, with them all.


I tell you they are all Turks in their hearts.


And here, haply, a great man coming up, Tom Eaves's hat would drop off his head, and he would rush forward with a bow and a grin, which showed that he knew the world too--in the Tomeavesian way, that is.


And having laid out every shilling of his fortune on an annuity, Tom could afford to bear no malice to his nephews and nieces, and to have no other feeling with regard to his betters but a constant and generous desire to dine with them.


Between the Marchioness and the natural and tender regard of mother for children, there was that cruel barrier placed of difference of faith.

Between the Marchioness and her children was the cruel barrier of difference of faith.


The very love which she might feel for her sons only served to render the timid and pious lady more fearful and unhappy.

The very love which she felt for her sons only made the pious lady more fearful and unhappy.


The gulf which separated them was fatal and impassable.

The gulf which separated them was impassable.


She could not stretch her weak arms across it, or draw her children over to that side away from which her belief told her there was no safety.


During the youth of his sons, Lord Steyne, who was a good scholar and amateur casuist, had no better sport in the evening after dinner in the country than in setting the boys' tutor, the Reverend Mr. Trail (now my Lord Bishop of Ealing) on her ladyship's director, Father Mole, over their wine, and in pitting Oxford against St. Acheul.

During his sons' youth, Lord Steyne had no better sport after dinner than in setting the boys' tutor, the Reverend Mr. Trail, on her ladyship's priest, Father Mole.


alternately; he promised Mole a bishopric if he would come over, and vowed he would use all his influence to get Trail a cardinal's hat if he would secede.

alternately; he promised Mole a bishopric if he would convert, and vowed he would use all his influence to get Trail a cardinal's hat if he would secede.


Neither divine allowed himself to be conquered, and though the fond mother hoped that her youngest and favourite son would be reconciled to her church--his mother church--a sad and awful disappointment awaited the devout lady--a disappointment which seemed to be a judgement upon her for the sin of her marriage.

Although the fond mother hoped that her youngest and favourite son would be reconciled to her church, a sad and awful disappointment awaited her.


My Lord Gaunt married, as every person who frequents the Peerage knows, the Lady Blanche Thistlewood, a daughter of the noble house of Bareacres, before mentioned in this veracious history.

Her elder son Lord Gaunt married the Lady Blanche Thistlewood, a daughter of the noble house of Bareacres, previously mentioned in this history.


A wing of Gaunt House was assigned to this couple; for the head of the family chose to govern it, and while he reigned to reign supreme; his son and heir, however, living little at home, disagreeing with his wife, and borrowing upon post-obits such moneys as he required beyond the very moderate sums which his father was disposed to allow him.

A wing of Gaunt House was assigned to this couple; Lord Gaunt, however, was little at home, disagreeing with his wife, and borrowing money beyond the very moderate sums which his father allowed him.


The Marquis knew every shilling of his son's debts.


At his lamented demise, he was found himself to be possessor of many of his heir's bonds, purchased for their benefit, and devised by his Lordship to the children of his younger son.


As, to my Lord Gaunt's dismay, and the chuckling delight of his natural enemy and father, the Lady Gaunt had no children--the Lord George Gaunt was desired to return from Vienna, where he was engaged in waltzing and diplomacy, and to contract a matrimonial alliance with the Honourable Joan, only daughter of John Johnes, First Baron Helvellyn, and head of the firm of Jones, Brown, and Robinson, of Threadneedle Street, Bankers; from which union sprang several sons and daughters, whose doings do not appertain to this story.

To my Lord Gaunt's dismay, and the chuckling delight of his enemy and father, the Lady Gaunt had no children. So his brother Lord George Gaunt was desired to return from Vienna to marry the Honourable Joan, only daughter of John Jones, First Baron Helvellyn, and head of Jones, Brown, and Robinson, Bankers. From this marriage sprang several sons and daughters.


The marriage at first was a happy and prosperous one.


My Lord George Gaunt could not only read, but write pretty correctly.


He spoke French with considerable fluency; and was one of the finest waltzers in Europe.


With these talents, and his interest at home, there was little doubt that his lordship would rise to the highest dignities in his profession.

zer, and seemed likely to become a highly-ranked diplomat.


The lady, his wife, felt that courts were her sphere, and her wealth enabled her to receive splendidly in those continental towns whither her husband's diplomatic duties led him.

His wife's wealth let her hold splendid receptions in those continental towns where her husband's diplomatic duties led him.


There was talk of appointing him minister, and bets were laid at the Travellers' that he would be ambassador ere long, when of a sudden, rumours arrived of the secretary's extraordinary behaviour.

Then sudden rumours arrived of his extraordinary behaviour.


At a grand diplomatic dinner given by his chief, he had started up and declared that a pate de foie gras was poisoned.

At a grand diplomatic dinner, he had started up and declared that a pate de foie gras was poisoned.


He went to a ball at the hotel of the Bavarian envoy, the Count de Springbock-Hohenlaufen, with his head shaved and dressed as a Capuchin friar.

He went to a ball with his head shaved and dressed as a Capuchin friar.


It was not a masked ball, as some folks wanted to persuade you.


It was something queer, people whispered.


His wife and family returned to this country and took up their abode at Gaunt House.

His wife and children returned to Gaunt House.


Lord George gave up his post on the European continent, and was gazetted to Brazil.

Lord George gave up his post, and was supposedly sent to Brazil.


But people knew better; he never returned from that Brazil expedition--never died there--never lived there--never was there at all.

But people knew better; he never returned from that Brazil expedition - never died there - never lived there - never was there at all.


He was nowhere; he was gone out altogether.


"Brazil," said one gossip to another, with a grin--"Brazil is St. John's Wood.

"Brazil," said the gossips, "is a cottage at St. John's Wood


Rio de Janeiro is a cottage surrounded by four walls, and George Gaunt is accredited to a keeper, who has invested him with the order of the Strait-Waistcoat."

, where George Gaunt has a keeper, who has invested him with the order of the Strait-Jacket."


These are the kinds of epitaphs which men pass over one another in Vanity Fair.

These are the kinds of epitaphs which men give one another in Vanity Fair.


Twice or thrice in a week, in the earliest morning, the poor mother went for her sins and saw the poor invalid.

Twice or thrice a week, in the early morning, his poor mother went to see him.


Sometimes he laughed at her (and his laughter was more pitiful than to hear him cry); sometimes she found the brilliant dandy diplomatist of the Congress of Vienna dragging about a child's toy, or nursing the keeper's baby's doll.

Sometimes he laughed at her; sometimes she found him dragging about a child's toy.


Sometimes he knew her and Father Mole, her director and companion; oftener he forgot her, as he had done wife, children, love, ambition, vanity.

Sometimes he knew her and Father Mole; oftener he forgot her, as he had done wife, children, love, ambition, and


But he remembered his dinner-hour, and used to cry if his wine-and-water was not strong enough.


It was the mysterious taint of the blood; the poor mother had brought it from her own ancient race.

The poor mother had brought this taint from her own ancient race.


The evil had broken out once or twice in the father's family, long before Lady Steyne's sins had begun, or her fasts and tears and penances had been offered in their expiation.

The evil had broken out once or twice in her father's family.


The pride of the race was struck down as the first-born of Pharaoh.


The dark mark of fate and doom was on the threshold--the tall old threshold surmounted by coronets and caned heraldry.

The dark mark of doom was on the threshold.


The absent lord's children meanwhile prattled and grew on quite unconscious that the doom was over them too.

The absent lord's children meanwhile grew on, quite unconscious that the doom was over them too.


First they talked of their father and devised plans against his return.


Then the name of the living dead man was less frequently in their mouth--then not mentioned at all.


But the stricken old grandmother trembled to think that these too were the inheritors of their father's shame as well as of his honours, and watched sickening for the day when the awful ancestral curse should come down on them.

Their stricken grandmother trembled to think that these were the inheritors of their father's shame, and watched sickening for the day when the awful ancestral curse should come down on them.


This dark presentiment also haunted Lord Steyne.


He tried to lay the horrid bedside ghost in Red Seas of wine and jollity, and lost sight of it sometimes in the crowd and rout of his pleasures.

He tried to lay the ghost in Red Seas of wine and jollity, and lost sight of it sometimes in the crowd of his pleasures.


But it always came back to him when alone, and seemed to grow more threatening with years.

But it always came back to him when alone, and grew more threatening with the years.


"I have taken your son," it said, "why not you?


I may shut you up in a prison some day like your son George.


I may tap you on the head to-morrow, and away go pleasure and honours, feasts and beauty, friends, flatterers, French cooks, fine horses and houses--in exchange for a prison, a keeper, and a straw mattress like George Gaunt's."

I may tap you on the head tomorrow, and away go pleasure and honours, feasts and friends, fine horses and houses - in exchange for a prison, a keeper, and a straw mattress."


And then my lord would defy the ghost which threatened him, for he knew of a remedy by which he could baulk his enemy.

And then my lord would defy the ghost, for he knew of a remedy by which he could baulk his enemy.


So there was splendour and wealth, but no great happiness perchance, behind the tall caned portals of Gaunt House with its smoky coronets and ciphers.

So there was splendour and wealth, but no great happiness behind the tall portals of Gaunt House.


The feasts there were of the grandest in London, but there was not overmuch content therewith, except among the guests who sat at my lord's table.


Had he not been so great a Prince very few possibly would have visited him; but in Vanity Fair the sins of very great personages are looked at indulgently.

not been so great, perhaps few would have visited him; but in Vanity Fair the sins of very great personages are indulged.


"Nous regardons a deux fois" (as the French lady said) before we condemn a person of my lord's undoubted quality.


Some notorious carpers and squeamish moralists might be sulky with Lord Steyne, but they were glad enough to come when he asked them.

Some squeamish moralists might be sulky with Lord Steyne, but they were glad enough to come when he asked them.


"Lord Steyne is really too bad," Lady Slingstone said, "but everybody goes, and of course I shall see that my girls come to no harm."


"His lordship is a man to whom I owe much, everything in life," said the Right Reverend Doctor Trail, thinking that the Archbishop was rather shaky, and Mrs. Trail and the young ladies would as soon have missed going to church as to one of his lordship's parties.


"His morals are bad," said little Lord Southdown to his sister, who meekly expostulated, having heard terrific legends from her mamma with respect to the doings at Gaunt House; "but hang it, he's got the best dry Sillery in Europe!"

"His morals are bad," said little Lord Southdown to his sister, who had heard terrific stories from her mamma about the doings at Gaunt House; "but hang it, he's got the best Champagne in Europe!"


And as for Sir Pitt Crawley, Bart.--Sir Pitt that pattern of decorum, Sir Pitt who had led off at missionary meetings--he never for one moment thought of not going too.

And as for Sir Pitt Crawley - that pattern of decorum - he never for one moment thought of not going.


"Where you see such persons as the Bishop of Ealing and the Countess of Slingstone, you may be pretty sure, Jane," the Baronet would say, "that we cannot be wrong.

"Where you see such persons as the Countess of Slingstone, you may be pretty sure, Jane," the Baronet would say, "that we cannot be wrong.


The great rank and station of Lord Steyne put him in a position to command people in our station in life.

The great rank of Lord Steyne means he can command people in our station.


The Lord Lieutenant of a County, my dear, is a respectable man.


Besides, George Gaunt and I were intimate in early life; he was my junior when we were attaches at Pumpernickel together."

Besides, George Gaunt and I were diplomats together."


In a word everybody went to wait upon this great man--everybody who was asked, as you the reader (do not say nay) or I the writer hereof would go if we had an invitation.


After Becky's appearance at my Lord Steyne's private and select parties, the claims of that estimable woman as regards fashion were settled, and some of the very greatest and tallest doors in the metropolis were speedily opened to her--doors so great and tall that the beloved reader and writer hereof may hope in vain to enter at them.

After Becky's appearance at my Lord Steyne's select parties, some of the very greatest doors in London were opened to her.


Dear brethren, let us tremble before those august portals.


I fancy them guarded by grooms of the chamber with flaming silver forks with which they prong all those who have not the right of the entree.

I fancy them guarded by footmen with flaming silver forks, with which they prong all those who have not the right to enter.


They say the honest newspaper-fellow who sits in the hall and takes down the names of the great ones who are admitted to the feasts dies after a little time.

They say the honest newspaper-fellow who sits in the hall and takes down the names of the great ones who are admitted dies after a little time.


He can't survive the glare of fashion long.


It scorches him up, as the presence of Jupiter in full dress wasted that poor imprudent Semele--a giddy moth of a creature who ruined herself by venturing out of her natural atmosphere.


Her myth ought to be taken to heart amongst the Tyburnians, the Belgravians--her story, and perhaps Becky's too.


Ah, ladies!--ask the Reverend Mr. Thurifer if Belgravia is not a sounding brass and Tyburnia a tinkling cymbal.


And some day or other (but it will be after our time, thank goodness) Hyde Park Gardens will be no better known than the celebrated horticultural outskirts of Babylon, and Belgrave Square will be as desolate as Baker Street, or Tadmor in the wilderness.


Ladies, are you aware that the great Pitt lived in Baker Street?


What would not your grandmothers have given to be asked to Lady Hester's parties in that now decayed mansion?


I have dined in it--moi qui vous parle, I peopled the chamber with ghosts of the mighty dead.


As we sat soberly drinking claret there with men of to-day, the spirits of the departed came in and took their places round the darksome board.


The pilot who weathered the storm tossed off great bumpers of spiritual port; the shade of Dundas did not leave the ghost of a heeltap.


Addington sat bowing and smirking in a ghastly manner, and would not be behindhand when the noiseless bottle went round; Scott, from under bushy eyebrows, winked at the apparition of a beeswing; Wilberforce's eyes went up to the ceiling, so that he did not seem to know how his glass went up full to his mouth and came down empty; up to the ceiling which was above us only yesterday, and which the great of the past days have all looked at.


They let the house as a furnished lodging now.


Yes, Lady Hester once lived in Baker Street, and lies asleep in the wilderness.


Eothen saw her there--not in Baker Street, but in the other solitude.


It is all vanity to be sure, but who will not own to liking a little of it?


I should like to know what well-constituted mind, merely because it is transitory, dislikes roast beef?


That is a vanity, but may every man who reads this have a wholesome portion of it through life, I beg: aye, though my readers were five hundred thousand.


Sit down, gentlemen, and fall to, with a good hearty appetite; the fat, the lean, the gravy, the horse-radish as you like it--don't spare it.


Another glass of wine, Jones, my boy--a little bit of the Sunday side.


Yes, let us eat our fill of the vain thing and be thankful therefor.


And let us make the best of Becky's aristocratic pleasures likewise--for these too, like all other mortal delights, were but transitory.

So let us make the best of Becky's aristocratic pleasures - for these, like all other mortal delights, were but short-lived.


The upshot of her visit to Lord Steyne was that His Highness the Prince of Peterwaradin took occasion to renew his acquaintance with Colonel Crawley, when they met on the next day at the Club, and to compliment Mrs. Crawley in the Ring of Hyde Park with a profound salute of the hat.

The upshot of her visit to Lord Steyne was that His Highness the Prince of Peterwaradin complimented Mrs. Crawley in Hyde Park with a salute of the hat.


She and her husband were invited immediately to one of the Prince's small parties at Levant House, then occupied by His Highness during the temporary absence from England of its noble proprietor.

She and her husband were invited to one of the Prince's small parties at Levant House,


She sang after dinner to a very little comite.


The Marquis of Steyne was present, paternally superintending the progress of his pupil.

The Marquis of Steyne was present, paternally watching over the progress of his pupil.


At Levant House Becky met one of the finest gentlemen and greatest ministers that Europe has produced--the Duc de la Jabotiere, then Ambassador from the Most Christian King, and subsequently Minister to that monarch.

At Levant House Becky met one of the finest gentlemen and greatest ministers that Europe has produced - the Duc de la Jabotiere, then Ambassador from the Most Christian King, and later Minister to that monarch.


I declare I swell with pride as these august names are transcribed by my pen, and I think in what brilliant company my dear Becky is moving.

I declare I swell with pride as I write these names, and think in what brilliant company my dear Becky was moving.


She became a constant guest at the French Embassy, where no party was considered to be complete without the presence of the charming Madame Ravdonn Cravley.

She became a constant guest at the French Embassy, where no party was considered complete without the charming Madame Ravdonn Cravley.


Messieurs de Truffigny (of the Perigord family) and Champignac, both attaches of the Embassy, were straightway smitten by the charms of the fair Colonel's wife, and both declared, according to the wont of their nation (for who ever yet met a Frenchman, come out of England, that has not left half a dozen families miserable, and brought away as many hearts in his pocket-book?

Messieurs de Truffigny and Champignac, both attaches of the Embassy, were smitten by the charms of the fair Colonel's wife.


), both, I say, declared that they were au mieux with the charming Madame Ravdonn.


But I doubt the correctness of the assertion.


Champignac was very fond of ecarte, and made many parties with the Colonel of evenings, while Becky was singing to Lord Steyne in the other room; and as for Truffigny, it is a well-known fact that he dared not go to the Travellers', where he owed money to the waiters, and if he had not had the Embassy as a dining-place, the worthy young gentleman must have starved.


I doubt, I say, that Becky would have selected either of these young men as a person on whom she would bestow her special regard.

However, I doubt if Becky would have selected either of these young men as a person on whom to bestow her special regard.


They ran of her messages, purchased her gloves and flowers, went in debt for opera-boxes for her, and made themselves amiable in a thousand ways.

They ran her messages, bought her gloves and flowers, went into debt for opera-boxes for her, and made themselves amiable in a thousand ways.


And they talked English with adorable simplicity, and to the constant amusement of Becky and my Lord Steyne, she would mimic one or other to his face, and compliment him on his advance in the English language with a gravity which never failed to tickle the Marquis, her sardonic old patron.

To the amusement of Becky and my Lord Steyne, she would mimic one or other to his face, and compliment him on his advance in the English language with a gravity which never failed to tickle the sardonic old Marquis.


Truffigny gave Briggs a shawl by way of winning over Becky's confidante, and asked her to take charge of a letter which the simple spinster handed over in public to the person to whom it was addressed, and the composition of which amused everybody who read it greatly.


Lord Steyne read it, everybody but honest Rawdon, to whom it was not necessary to tell everything that passed in the little house in May Fair.


Here, before long, Becky received not only "the best" foreigners (as the phrase is in our noble and admirable society slang), but some of the best English people too.

, Becky received not only "the best" foreigners, but some of the best English people too.


I don't mean the most virtuous, or indeed the least virtuous, or the cleverest, or the stupidest, or the richest, or the best born, but "the best,"--in a word, people about whom there is no question--such as the great Lady Fitz-Willis, that Patron Saint of Almack's, the great Lady Slowbore, the great Lady Grizzel Macbeth (she was Lady G. Glowry, daughter of Lord Grey of Glowry), and the like.

I don't mean the most virtuous, or the cleverest, or the richest, or the best born, but "the best," - people about whom there is no question - such as the great Lady Fitz-Willis, the great Lady Slowbore, the great Lady Grizzel Macbeth and the like.


When the Countess of Fitz-Willis (her Ladyship is of the Kingstreet family, see Debrett and Burke) takes up a person, he or she is safe.

When the Countess of Fitz-Willis takes up a person, he or she is safe.


There is no question about them any more.


Not that my Lady Fitz-Willis is any better than anybody else, being, on the contrary, a faded person, fifty-seven years of age, and neither handsome, nor wealthy, nor entertaining; but it is agreed on all sides that she is of the "best people."

Not that my Lady Fitz-Willis is any better than anybody else, being, on the contrary, a faded person of fifty-seven years, neither handsome, nor wealthy, nor entertaining; but it is agreed on all sides that she is one of the "best people."


Those who go to her are of the best: and from an old grudge probably to Lady Steyne (for whose coronet her ladyship, then the youthful Georgina Frederica, daughter of the Prince of Wales's favourite, the Earl of Portansherry, had once tried), this great and famous leader of the fashion chose to acknowledge Mrs. Rawdon Crawley; made her a most marked curtsey at the assembly over which she presided; and not only encouraged her son, St. Kitts (his lordship got his place through Lord Steyne's interest), to frequent Mrs. Crawley's house, but asked her to her own mansion and spoke to her twice in the most public and condescending manner during dinner.

This great and famous leader of fashion chose to acknowledge Mrs. Rawdon Crawley; made her a marked curtsey at the assembly; and not only encouraged her son, St. Kitts, to frequent Mrs. Crawley's house, but asked her to her own mansion and spoke to her twice in the most condescending manner during dinner.


The important fact was known all over London that night.

This important fact was known all over London that night.


People who had been crying fie about Mrs. Crawley were silent.


Wenham, the wit and lawyer, Lord Steyne's right-hand man, went about everywhere praising her: some who had hesitated, came forward at once and welcomed her; little Tom Toady, who had warned Southdown about visiting such an abandoned woman, now besought to be introduced to her.

Wenham, the wit and lawyer, Lord Steyne's right-hand man, went about everywhere praising Becky: some who had hesitated, came forward at once and welcomed her.


In a word, she was admitted to be among the "best" people.


Ah, my beloved readers and brethren, do not envy poor Becky prematurely--glory like this is said to be fugitive.

Ah, my beloved readers and brethren, do not envy poor Becky prematurely - glory like this is fleeting.


It is currently reported that even in the very inmost circles, they are no happier than the poor wanderers outside the zone; and Becky, who penetrated into the very centre of fashion and saw the great George IV face to face, has owned since that there too was Vanity.

It is reported that even in the very inmost circles, they are no happier than the poor wanderers outside the zone; and Becky, who penetrated into the very centre of fashion and saw the great King George IV face to face, has owned since that there too was Vanity.


We must be brief in descanting upon this part of her career.

We must be brief in recounting this part of her career.


As I cannot describe the mysteries of freemasonry, although I have a shrewd idea that it is a humbug, so an uninitiated man cannot take upon himself to portray the great world accurately, and had best keep his opinions to himself, whatever they are.

Just as I cannot describe the mysteries of freemasonry, although I have a shrewd idea that it is a humbug, so an uninitiated man cannot portray the great world accurately, and had best keep his opinions to himself.


Becky has often spoken in subsequent years of this season of her life, when she moved among the very greatest circles of the London fashion.


Her success excited, elated, and then bored her.

's success excited, elated, and then bored her.


At first no occupation was more pleasant than to invent and procure (the latter a work of no small trouble and ingenuity, by the way, in a person of Mrs. Rawdon Crawley's very narrow means)--to procure, we say, the prettiest new dresses and ornaments; to drive to fine dinner parties, where she was welcomed by great people; and from the fine dinner parties to fine assemblies, whither the same people came with whom she had been dining, whom she had met the night before, and would see on the morrow--the young men faultlessly appointed, handsomely cravatted, with the neatest glossy boots and white gloves--the elders portly, brass-buttoned, noble-looking, polite, and prosy--the young ladies blonde, timid, and in pink--the mothers grand, beautiful, sumptuous, solemn, and in diamonds.

At first nothing was more pleasant than to procure (with considerable trouble and ingenuity, given her narrow means) the prettiest new dresses and ornaments; to drive to fine dinner parties, and fine assemblies, where she met the same great people as she had met the night before, and would see on the morrow - the young men faultlessly dressed, with glossy boots and white gloves - the elders portly, brass-buttoned, polite and prosy - the young ladies blonde, timid, and in pink - the mothers sumptuous, solemn, and in diamonds.


They talked in English, not in bad French, as they do in the novels.


They talked about each others' houses, and characters, and families--just as the Joneses do about the Smiths.

They talked about each others' houses, and characters, and families - just as the Joneses do about the Smiths.


Becky's former acquaintances hated and envied her; the poor woman herself was yawning in spirit.


"I wish I were out of it," she said to herself.

"I wish I were out of it," she said to Lord Steyne.


"I would rather be a parson's wife and teach a Sunday school than this; or a sergeant's lady and ride in the regimental waggon; or, oh, how much gayer it would be to wear spangles and trousers and dance before a booth at a fair."

"I would rather be a parson's wife or a sergeant's lady than this; or, oh, how much gayer it would be to wear spangles and trousers and dance before a booth at a fair."


"You would do it very well," said Lord Steyne, laughing.


She used to tell the great man her ennuis and perplexities in her artless way--they amused him.


"Rawdon would make a very good Ecuyer--Master of the Ceremonies--what do you call him--the man in the large boots and the uniform, who goes round the ring cracking the whip?


He is large, heavy, and of a military figure.


I recollect," Becky continued pensively, "my father took me to see a show at Brookgreen Fair when I was a child, and when we came home, I made myself a pair of stilts and danced in the studio to the wonder of all the pupils."

I remember," Becky continued pensively, "my father took me to see a show at Brookgreen Fair when I was a child, and when we came home, I made myself a pair of stilts and danced in the studio."


"I should have liked to see it," said Lord Steyne.


"I should like to do it now," Becky continued.

"I should like to do it now," said Becky.


"How Lady Blinkey would open her eyes, and Lady Grizzel Macbeth would stare!


Becky always made a point of being conspicuously polite to the professional ladies and gentlemen who attended at these aristocratic parties--of following them into the corners where they sat in silence, and shaking hands with them, and smiling in the view of all persons.

Becky always made a point of being polite to the professional ladies and gentlemen at these parties - of following them into the corners where they sat in silence, and shaking hands with them, and smiling in the view of everybody.


She was an artist herself, as she said very truly; there was a frankness and humility in the manner in which she acknowledged her origin, which provoked, or disarmed, or amused lookers-on, as the case might be.

She was an artist herself, as she said very truly, with a frankness and humility which provoked, or disarmed, or amused lookers-on, as the case might be.


"How cool that woman is," said one; "what airs of independence she assumes, where she ought to sit still and be thankful if anybody speaks to her!"

"How cool that woman is," said one; "what independent airs she assumes, when she ought to sit still and be thankful if anybody speaks to her!"


"What an honest and good-natured soul she is!"


"What an artful little minx" said a third.

"What an artful little minx," said a third.


They were all right very likely, but Becky went her own way, and so fascinated the professional personages that they would leave off their sore throats in order to sing at her parties and give her lessons for nothing.

They were all very likely right, but Becky went her own way, and so fascinated the professional artists that they would willingly sing at her parties, and give her lessons for nothing.


Yes, she gave parties in the little house in Curzon Street.


Many scores of carriages, with blazing lamps, blocked up the street, to the disgust of No.


100, who could not rest for the thunder of the knocking, and of 102, who could not sleep for envy.

200, who could not rest for the thunder of the knocking, and of 202, who could not sleep for envy.


The gigantic footmen who accompanied the vehicles were too big to be contained in Becky's little hall, and were billeted off in the neighbouring public-houses, whence, when they were wanted, call-boys summoned them from their beer.


Scores of the great dandies of London squeezed and trod on each other on the little stairs, laughing to find themselves there; and many spotless and severe ladies of ton were seated in the little drawing-room, listening to the professional singers, who were singing according to their wont, and as if they wished to blow the windows down.

Scores of great dandies squeezed and trod on each other on the little stairs, laughing to find themselves there; and many spotless and severe ladies were seated in the little drawing-room, listening to the professional singers, who were singing as if they wished to blow the windows down.


And the day after, there appeared among the fashionable reunions in the Morning Post a paragraph to the following effect:

And the day after, there appeared in the Morning Post this paragraph:


"Yesterday, Colonel and Mrs. Crawley entertained a select party at dinner at their house in May Fair.


Their Excellencies the Prince and Princess of Peterwaradin, H. E. Papoosh Pasha, the Turkish Ambassador (attended by Kibob Bey, dragoman of the mission), the Marquess of Steyne, Earl of Southdown, Sir Pitt and Lady Jane Crawley, Mr. Wagg, &c. After dinner Mrs. Crawley had an assembly which was attended by the Duchess (Dowager) of Stilton, Duc de la Gruyere, Marchioness of Cheshire, Marchese Alessandro Strachino, Comte de Brie, Baron Schapzuger, Chevalier Tosti, Countess of Slingstone, and Lady F. Macadam, Major-General and Lady G. Macbeth, and (2) Miss Macbeths; Viscount Paddington, Sir Horace Fogey, Hon. Sands Bedwin, Bobachy Bahawder," and an &c., which the reader may fill at his pleasure through a dozen close lines of small type.

Their Excellencies the Prince and Princess of Peterwaradin, H. E. Papoosh Pasha, the Turkish Ambassador, the Marquess of Steyne, Earl of Southdown, Sir Pitt and Lady Jane Crawley, Mr. Wagg, &c. After dinner Mrs. Crawley had an assembly which was attended by the Duchess of Stilton, Duc de la Gruyere, Marchioness of Cheshire, Comte de Brie, Chevalier Tosti, Major-General and Lady G. Macbeth, Sir Horace Fogey, Hon. Sands Bedwin," etc., etc.


And in her commerce with the great our dear friend showed the same frankness which distinguished her transactions with the lowly in station.

Our dear friend Rebecca showed the same frankness to the great as she did to the lowly.


On one occasion, when out at a very fine house, Rebecca was (perhaps rather ostentatiously) holding a conversation in the French language with a celebrated tenor singer of that nation, while the Lady Grizzel Macbeth looked over her shoulder scowling at the pair.

Once, when out at a very fine house, she was (perhaps rather ostentatiously) holding a conversation in French with a celebrated French tenor, while Lady Grizzel Macbeth looked on scowling.


"How very well you speak French," Lady Grizzel said, who herself spoke the tongue in an Edinburgh accent most remarkable to hear.

"How very well you speak French," said Lady Grizzel, who spoke the tongue in an Edinburgh accent remarkable to hear.


"I ought to know it," Becky modestly said, casting down her eyes.


"I taught it in a school, and my mother was a Frenchwoman."


Lady Grizzel was won by her humility and was mollified towards the little woman.

Lady Grizzel was won over by her humility, and mollified.


She deplored the fatal levelling tendencies of the age, which admitted persons of all classes into the society of their superiors, but her ladyship owned that this one at least was well behaved and never forgot her place in life.

She admitted that Becky was well behaved and never forgot her place.


She was a very good woman: good to the poor; stupid, blameless, unsuspicious.


It is not her ladyship's fault that she fancies herself better than you and me.


The skirts of her ancestors' garments have been kissed for centuries; it is a thousand years, they say, since the tartans of the head of the family were embraced by the defunct Duncan's lords and councillors, when the great ancestor of the House became King of Scotland.

; the skirts of her ancestors' garments have been kissed for centuries.


Lady Steyne, after the music scene, succumbed before Becky, and perhaps was not disinclined to her.

Lady Steyne, after the music scene, succumbed before Becky.


The younger ladies of the house of Gaunt were also compelled into submission.

The younger ladies of her house were also compelled into submission.


Once or twice they set people at her, but they failed.


The brilliant Lady Stunnington tried a passage of arms with her, but was routed with great slaughter by the intrepid little Becky.

The brilliant Lady Stunnington tried a passage of arms with her, but was routed by the intrepid little Becky.


When attacked sometimes, Becky had a knack of adopting a demure ingenue air, under which she was most dangerous.

When attacked, Becky had a knack of adopting a demure ingnue manner, under which she was most dangerous.


She said the wickedest things with the most simple unaffected air when in this mood, and would take care artlessly to apologize for her blunders, so that all the world should know that she had made them.

She said the wickedest things with the most simple unaffected air, and would take care artlessly to apologize for her blunders, so that all the world should know of them.


Mr. Wagg, the celebrated wit, and a led captain and trencher-man of my Lord Steyne, was caused by the ladies to charge her; and the worthy fellow, leering at his patronesses and giving them a wink, as much as to say, "Now look out for sport," one evening began an assault upon Becky, who was unsuspiciously eating her dinner.

Mr. Wagg, the celebrated wit, was caused by the ladies to charge her; and one evening, leering at his patronesses and giving them a wink, as much as to say, "Now look out for sport," began an assault upon Becky.


The little woman, attacked on a sudden, but never without arms, lighted up in an instant, parried and riposted with a home-thrust, which made Wagg's face tingle with shame; then she returned to her soup with the most perfect calm and a quiet smile on her face.

She lighted up in an instant, parried and riposted with a thrust which made Wagg's face tingle with shame; then she returned to her soup with the most perfect calm.


Wagg's great patron, who gave him dinners and lent him a little money sometimes, and whose election, newspaper, and other jobs Wagg did, gave the luckless fellow such a savage glance with the eyes as almost made him sink under the table and burst into tears.

Lord Steyne, who gave Wagg dinners and lent him a little money sometimes, gave the luckless fellow such a savage glance as almost made him sink under the table and burst into tears.


He looked piteously at my lord, who never spoke to him during dinner, and at the ladies, who disowned him.


At last Becky herself took compassion upon him and tried to engage him in talk.


He was not asked to dinner again for six weeks; and Fiche, my lord's confidential man, to whom Wagg naturally paid a good deal of court, was instructed to tell him that if he ever dared to say a rude thing to Mrs. Crawley again, or make her the butt of his stupid jokes, Milor would put every one of his notes of hand into his lawyer's hands and sell him up without mercy.

; but he was not asked to dinner again for six weeks.


Wagg wept before Fiche and implored his dear friend to intercede for him.


He wrote a poem in favour of Mrs. R. C., which appeared in the very next number of the Harum-scarum Magazine, which he conducted.


He implored her good-will at parties where he met her.


He cringed and coaxed Rawdon at the club.


He was allowed to come back to Gaunt House after a while.


Becky was always good to him, always amused, never angry.


His lordship's vizier and chief confidential servant (with a seat in parliament and at the dinner table), Mr. Wenham, was much more prudent in his behaviour and opinions than Mr. Wagg.

Lord Steyne's chief confidential servant Mr Wenham (with a seat in parliament and at the dinner table) was much more prudent in his behaviour than Mr. Wagg.


However much he might be disposed to hate all parvenus (Mr. Wenham himself was a staunch old True Blue Tory, and his father a small coal-merchant in the north of England), this aide-de-camp of the Marquis never showed any sort of hostility to the new favourite, but pursued her with stealthy kindnesses and a sly and deferential politeness which somehow made Becky more uneasy than other people's overt hostilities.

However much he might hate all parvenus (Mr. Wenham himself was a staunch old True Blue Tory, and his father a small coal-merchant in the north of England), he never showed any hostility to the new favourite, but pursued her with stealthy kindnesses and a sly and deferential politeness which somehow made Becky uneasy.


How the Crawleys got the money which was spent upon the entertainments with which they treated the polite world was a mystery which gave rise to some conversation at the time, and probably added zest to these little festivities.

How the Crawleys got the money for these entertainments was a mystery.


Some persons averred that Sir Pitt Crawley gave his brother a handsome allowance; if he did, Becky's power over the Baronet must have been extraordinary indeed, and his character greatly changed in his advanced age.

Some said that Sir Pitt Crawley gave his brother a handsome allowance; if he did, his character must have been greatly changed.


Other parties hinted that it was Becky's habit to levy contributions on all her husband's friends: going to this one in tears with an account that there was an execution in the house; falling on her knees to that one and declaring that the whole family must go to gaol or commit suicide unless such and such a bill could be paid.

Others hinted that Becky begged money from her husband's friends: going to them in tears, falling on her knees and declaring that the whole family must go to gaol unless such and such a bill could be paid.


Lord Southdown, it was said, had been induced to give many hundreds through these pathetic representations.

Lord Southdown, it was said, had been induced to give many hundreds in this way.


Young Feltham, of the --th Dragoons (and son of the firm of Tiler and Feltham, hatters and army accoutrement makers), and whom the Crawleys introduced into fashionable life, was also cited as one of Becky's victims in the pecuniary way.


People declared that she got money from various simply disposed persons, under pretence of getting them confidential appointments under Government.

People declared that she took money from simple persons, under pretence of getting them Government appointments.


Who knows what stories were or were not told of our dear and innocent friend?

Who knows what stories were told of our innocent friend?


Certain it is that if she had had all the money which she was said to have begged or borrowed or stolen, she might have capitalized and been honest for life, whereas,--but this is advancing matters.

Certainly, if she had had all the money which she was said to have begged or borrowed, she might have been honest for life, whereas - but this comes too soon.


The truth is, that by economy and good management--by a sparing use of ready money and by paying scarcely anybody--people can manage, for a time at least, to make a great show with very little means: and it is our belief that Becky's much-talked-of parties, which were not, after all was said, very numerous, cost this lady very little more than the wax candles which lighted the walls.

The truth is, that by a sparing use of ready money and by paying scarcely anybody, people can manage, for a time at least, to make a great show with very little means. Becky's much-talked-of parties cost her little more than the wax candles which lighted the walls.


Stillbrook and Queen's Crawley supplied her with game and fruit in abundance.


Lord Steyne's cellars were at her disposal, and that excellent nobleman's famous cooks presided over her little kitchen, or sent by my lord's order the rarest delicacies from their own.

Lord Steyne's cellars were at her disposal, and that nobleman's famous cooks presided over her little kitchen.


I protest it is quite shameful in the world to abuse a simple creature, as people of her time abuse Becky, and I warn the public against believing one-tenth of the stories against her.


If every person is to be banished from society who runs into debt and cannot pay--if we are to be peering into everybody's private life, speculating upon their income, and cutting them if we don't approve of their expenditure--why, what a howling wilderness and intolerable dwelling Vanity Fair would be!

If every person is to be banished from society who runs into debt - why, what a howling wilderness Vanity Fair would be!


Every man's hand would be against his neighbour in this case, my dear sir, and the benefits of civilization would be done away with.


We should be quarrelling, abusing, avoiding one another.


Our houses would become caverns, and we should go in rags because we cared for nobody.


All the tradesmen of the town would be bankrupt.


Wine, wax-lights, comestibles, rouge, crinoline-petticoats, diamonds, wigs, Louis-Quatorze gimcracks, and old china, park hacks, and splendid high-stepping carriage horses--all the delights of life, I say,--would go to the deuce, if people did but act upon their silly principles and avoid those whom they dislike and abuse.

All the delights of life would go to the deuce.


Whereas, by a little charity and mutual forbearance, things are made to go on pleasantly enough: we may abuse a man as much as we like, and call him the greatest rascal unhanged--but do we wish to hang him therefore?

Whereas, by a little charity, things are made to go on pleasantly enough: we call a man the greatest rascal unhanged - but do we wish to hang him therefore?


If his cook is good we forgive him and go and dine with him, and we expect he will do the same by us.

If his cook is good we forgive him and go and dine with him.


Thus trade flourishes--civilization advances; peace is kept; new dresses are wanted for new assemblies every week; and the last year's vintage of Lafitte will remunerate the honest proprietor who reared it.

Thus civilization advances; peace is kept; and new dresses are needed every week.


At the time whereof we are writing, though the Great George was on the throne and ladies wore gigots and large combs like tortoise-shell shovels in their hair, instead of the simple sleeves and lovely wreaths which are actually in fashion, the manners of the very polite world were not, I take it, essentially different from those of the present day: and their amusements pretty similar.


To us, from the outside, gazing over the policeman's shoulders at the bewildering beauties as they pass into Court or ball, they may seem beings of unearthly splendour and in the enjoyment of an exquisite happiness by us unattainable.


It is to console some of these dissatisfied beings that we are narrating our dear Becky's struggles, and triumphs, and disappointments, of all of which, indeed, as is the case with all persons of merit, she had her share.


At this time the amiable amusement of acting charades had come among us from France, and was considerably in vogue in this country, enabling the many ladies amongst us who had beauty to display their charms, and the fewer number who had cleverness to exhibit their wit.

At this time the amiable amusement of acting charades had come over from France, and was in vogue, enabling the many ladies who had beauty to display their charms, and the fewer who had cleverness to show their wit.


My Lord Steyne was incited by Becky, who perhaps believed herself endowed with both the above qualifications, to give an entertainment at Gaunt House, which should include some of these little dramas--and we must take leave to introduce the reader to this brilliant reunion, and, with a melancholy welcome too, for it will be among the very last of the fashionable entertainments to which it will be our fortune to conduct him.

My Lord Steyne was incited by Becky, who perhaps believed herself to have both beauty and wit, to give an entertainment at Gaunt House, which should include some charades.


A portion of that splendid room, the picture gallery of Gaunt House, was arranged as the charade theatre.

A portion of the splendid picture gallery of Gaunt House was arranged as the theatre.


It had been so used when George III was king; and a picture of the Marquis of Gaunt is still extant, with his hair in powder and a pink ribbon, in a Roman shape, as it was called, enacting the part of Cato in Mr. Addison's tragedy of that name, performed before their Royal Highnesses the Prince of Wales, the Bishop of Osnaburgh, and Prince William Henry, then children like the actor.


One or two of the old properties were drawn out of the garrets, where they had lain ever since, and furbished up anew for the present festivities.

some of the old theatre props were brought out of the garrets, where they had lain ever since, and furbished up for the festivities.


Young Bedwin Sands, then an elegant dandy and Eastern traveller, was manager of the revels.


An Eastern traveller was somebody in those days, and the adventurous Bedwin, who had published his quarto and passed some months under the tents in the desert, was a personage of no small importance.

An Eastern traveller was somebody in those days, and the adventurous Bedwin, who had published his book and passed some months in the desert, was an important personage.


In his volume there were several pictures of Sands in various oriental costumes; and he travelled about with a black attendant of most unprepossessing appearance, just like another Brian de Bois Guilbert.

He travelled about with a black attendant


Bedwin, his costumes, and black man, were hailed at Gaunt House as very valuable acquisitions.

, and was hailed at Gaunt House as a very valuable acquisition.


A Turkish officer with an immense plume of feathers (the Janizaries were supposed to be still in existence, and the tarboosh had not as yet displaced the ancient and majestic head-dress of the true believers) was seen couched on a divan, and making believe to puff at a narghile, in which, however, for the sake of the ladies, only a fragrant pastille was allowed to smoke.

A Turkish officer with an immense plume of feathers is seen couched on a divan, pretending to puff at a hookah.


The Turkish dignitary yawns and expresses signs of weariness and idleness.

This Turkish dignitary yawns and expresses signs of weariness and idleness.


He claps his hands and Mesrour the Nubian appears, with bare arms, bangles, yataghans, and every Eastern ornament--gaunt, tall, and hideous.

He claps his hands and Mesrour the Nubian appears, with bare arms, bangles, and every Eastern ornament.


He makes a salaam before my lord the Aga.


A thrill of terror and delight runs through the assembly.


The black slave was given to Bedwin Sands by an Egyptian pasha in exchange for three dozen of Maraschino.

, saying the black slave was given to Bedwin Sands by an Egyptian pasha in exchange for three dozen bottles of Maraschino.


He has sewn up ever so many odalisques in sacks and tilted them into the Nile.

He has sewn up ever so many ladies of the harem in sacks and tilted them into the Nile.


"Bid the slave-merchant enter," says the Turkish voluptuary with a wave of his hand.

"Bid the slave-merchant enter," says the Turkish lord with a wave of his hand.


Mesrour conducts the slave-merchant into my lord's presence; he brings a veiled female with him.


A thrill of applause bursts through the house.


It is Mrs. Winkworth (she was a Miss Absolom) with the beautiful eyes and hair.

It is Mrs. Winkworth with the beautiful eyes and hair.


She is in a gorgeous oriental costume; the black braided locks are twined with innumerable jewels; her dress is covered over with gold piastres.

She is in a gorgeous oriental costume; the black braided locks are twined with jewels; her dress is adorned with gold.


The odious Mahometan expresses himself charmed by her beauty.

The odious Turk is charmed by her beauty.


She falls down on her knees and entreats him to restore her to the mountains where she was born, and where her Circassian lover is still deploring the absence of his Zuleikah.

She falls on her knees and entreats him to restore her to the mountains where she was born,


No entreaties will move the obdurate Hassan.


He laughs at the notion of the Circassian bridegroom.


Zuleikah covers her face with her hands and drops down in an attitude of the most beautiful despair.

Zuleikah covers her face with her hands and drops down in an attitude of beautiful despair.


There seems to be no hope for her, when--when the Kislar Aga appears.

There seems to be no hope for her, when the Kislar Aga (the negro in another costume) appears.


The Kislar Aga brings a letter from the Sultan.


Hassan receives and places on his head the dread firman.


A ghastly terror seizes him, while on the Negro's face (it is Mesrour again in another costume) appears a ghastly joy.


cries the Pasha: while the Kislar Aga, grinning horribly, pulls out--a bow-string.

he cries; while the Kislar Aga, grinning horribly, pulls out - a bow-string.


The curtain draws just as he is going to use that awful weapon.


Hassan from within bawls out, "First two syllables"--and Mrs. Rawdon Crawley, who is going to act in the charade, comes forward and compliments Mrs. Winkworth on the admirable taste and beauty of her costume.

Hassan from within bawls out, "First two syllables." Mrs. Rawdon Crawley compliments Mrs. Winkworth on the beauty of her costume.


The second part of the charade takes place.


Hassan, in another dress, is in an attitude by Zuleikah, who is perfectly reconciled to him.

Hassan, in another dress, sits by Zuleikah, who is perfectly reconciled to him.


The Kislar Aga has become a peaceful black slave.


It is sunrise on the desert, and the Turks turn their heads eastwards and bow to the sand.


As there are no dromedaries at hand, the band facetiously plays "The Camels are coming."


An enormous Egyptian head figures in the scene.

An enormous Egyptian head, representing the


It is a musical one--and, to the surprise of the oriental travellers, sings a comic song, composed by Mr. Wagg.

ancient king Memnon, sings a comic song, composed by Mr. Wagg.


The Eastern voyagers go off dancing, like Papageno and the Moorish King in The Magic Flute.


A tall and stalwart man reposes on a couch there.

A tall and stalwart man reposes on a couch.


; Cassandra is a prisoner in his outer halls.


The king of men (it is Colonel Crawley, who, indeed, has no notion about the sack of Ilium or the conquest of Cassandra), the anax andron is asleep in his chamber at Argos.

This king of men (it is Colonel Crawley) is asleep in his chamber at Argos.


A lamp casts the broad shadow of the sleeping warrior flickering on the wall--the sword and shield of Troy glitter in its light.

A lamp casts his shadow flickering on the wall.


The band plays the awful music of Don Juan, before the statue enters.

The band plays the awful music of Don Juan.


What is that ghastly face looking out balefully after him from behind the arras?

What is that ghastly face looking out at him from behind the screens?


He raises his dagger to strike the sleeper, who turns in his bed, and opens his broad chest as if for the blow.


He cannot strike the noble slumbering chieftain.

but he cannot strike the noble slumbering chieftain.


Clytemnestra glides swiftly into the room like an apparition--her arms are bare and white--her tawny hair floats down her shoulders--her face is deadly pale--and her eyes are lighted up with a smile so ghastly that people quake as they look at her.

Clytemnestra glides swiftly into the room like an apparition - her arms are bare and white - her tawny hair floats down her shoulders - her face is deadly pale - and her eyes are lighted up with a smile so ghastly that onlookers quake.


somebody said, "it's Mrs. Rawdon Crawley."

somebody says, "it's Mrs. Rawdon Crawley."


Scornfully she snatches the dagger out of Aegisthus's hand and advances to the bed.


You see it shining over her head in the glimmer of the lamp, and--and the lamp goes out, with a groan, and all is dark.

You see it shining over her head - and then the lamp goes out, and all is dark.


The darkness and the scene frightened people.


Rebecca performed her part so well, and with such ghastly truth, that the spectators were all dumb, until, with a burst, all the lamps of the hall blazed out again, when everybody began to shout applause.

Rebecca performed with such ghastly truth that the spectators were all dumb, until the lamps blazed out again, when everybody began to shout applause.


old Steyne's strident voice was heard roaring over all the rest.

old Steyne's strident voice was heard roaring.


"By--, she'd do it too," he said between his teeth.


The performers were called by the whole house, which sounded with cries of "Manager!


Agamemnon could not be got to show in his classical tunic, but stood in the background with Aegisthus and others of the performers of the little play.

Agamemnon - the answer to the charade - would not come forward in his tunic, but stood in the background.


Mr. Bedwin Sands led on Zuleikah and Clytemnestra.


A great personage insisted on being presented to the charming Clytemnestra.

A great personage insisted on being presented to Becky.


was the apposite remark made by His Royal Highness.


"Mrs. Rawdon Crawley was quite killing in the part," said Lord Steyne.


Becky laughed, gay and saucy looking, and swept the prettiest little curtsey ever seen.

Becky laughed, gay and saucy-looking, and swept a pretty little curtsey.


Servants brought in salvers covered with numerous cool dainties, and the performers disappeared to get ready for the second charade-tableau.

Servants brought in salvers covered with dainties, and the performers disappeared to get ready for the second tableau.


The three syllables of this charade were to be depicted in pantomime, and the performance took place in the following wise:

The three syllables of this charade were to be depicted in pantomime, in this way:


Colonel Rawdon Crawley, C.B., with a slouched hat and a staff, a great-coat, and a lantern borrowed from the stables, passed across the stage bawling out, as if warning the inhabitants of the hour.

Colonel Rawdon Crawley, in a slouched hat and a great-coat, and carrying a lantern, passed across the stage bawling out, as if warning the inhabitants of the hour.


In the lower window are seen two bagmen playing apparently at the game of cribbage, over which they yawn much.

In the lower window are seen two bagmen playing cribbage, and yawning.


To them enters one looking like Boots (the Honourable G. Ringwood), which character the young gentleman performed to perfection, and divests them of their lower coverings; and presently Chambermaid (the Right Honourable Lord Southdown) with two candlesticks, and a warming-pan.

The Honourable G. Ringwood enters, playing the Boots, and takes their footwear; and presently a Chambermaid (the Right Honourable Lord Southdown) with two candlesticks and a warming-pan.


She ascends to the upper apartment and warms the bed.


She uses the warming-pan as a weapon wherewith she wards off the attention of the bagmen.

She uses the warming-pan as a weapon with which she wards off the attention of the bagmen.


They put on their night-caps and pull down the blinds.


Boots comes out and closes the shutters of the ground-floor chamber.

Boots closes the shutters of the ground-floor chamber.


You hear him bolting and chaining the door within.


The music plays Dormez, dormez, chers Amours.


A voice from behind the curtain says, "First syllable."


The lamps are lighted up all of a sudden.


The music plays the old air from John of Paris, Ah quel plaisir d'etre en voyage.


Between the first and second floors of the house represented, you behold a sign on which the Steyne arms are painted.

On the wall, you behold a sign on which the Steyne arms are painted.


All the bells are ringing all over the house.


In the lower apartment you see a man with a long slip of paper presenting it to another, who shakes his fists, threatens and vows that it is monstrous.

In the lower apartment you see a man give a long slip of paper to another, who shakes his fist and threatens.


"Ostler, bring round my gig," cries another at the door.


He chucks Chambermaid (the Right Honourable Lord Southdown) under the chin; she seems to deplore his absence, as Calypso did that of that other eminent traveller Ulysses.

He chucks Chambermaid (Lord Southdown) under the chin.


Boots (the Honourable G. Ringwood) passes with a wooden box, containing silver flagons, and cries "Pots" with such exquisite humour and naturalness that the whole house rings with applause, and a bouquet is thrown to him.


Landlord, chambermaid, waiter rush to the door, but just as some distinguished guest is arriving, the curtains close, and the invisible theatrical manager cries out "Second syllable."

Landlord, chambermaid, waiter rush to the door, but just as some distinguished guest is arriving, the curtains close, and a voice cries out "Second syllable."


"I think it must be 'Hotel,'" says Captain Grigg of the Life Guards; there is a general laugh at the Captain's cleverness.

"I think it must be 'Hotel,'" says Captain Grigg of the Life Guards; there is a general laugh.


While the third syllable is in preparation, the band begins a nautical medley--"All in the Downs," "Cease Rude Boreas," "Rule Britannia," "In the Bay of Biscay O!"


--some maritime event is about to take place.

- some maritime event is about to take place.


A bell is heard ringing as the curtain draws aside.


They point anxiously as if towards the clouds, which are represented by a dark curtain, and they nod their heads in fear.

They point anxiously as if towards the clouds, and nod their heads in fear.


Lady Squeams (the Right Honourable Lord Southdown), her lap-dog, her bags, reticules, and husband sit down, and cling hold of some ropes.

Lady Squeams (Lord Southdown) sits down, and clings to some ropes.


), with a cocked hat and a telescope, comes in, holding his hat on his head, and looks out; his coat tails fly about as if in the wind.

), with a cocked hat and a telescope, comes in holding his hat on his head, and looks out; his coat tails fly about as if in the wind.


When he leaves go of his hat to use his telescope, his hat flies off, with immense applause.

When he leaves go of his hat to use his telescope, his hat flies off, to immense applause.


The music rises and whistles louder and louder; the mariners go across the stage staggering, as if the ship was in severe motion.

The music rises; the mariners stagger across the stage, as if the ship was in severe motion.


The Steward (the Honourable G. Ringwood) passes reeling by, holding six basins.


He puts one rapidly by Lord Squeams--Lady Squeams, giving a pinch to her dog, which begins to howl piteously, puts her pocket-handkerchief to her face, and rushes away as for the cabin.

Lady Squeams puts her pocket-handkerchief to her face, and rushes away.


The music rises up to the wildest pitch of stormy excitement, and the third syllable is concluded.


There was a little ballet, "Le Rossignol," in which Montessu and Noblet used to be famous in those days, and which Mr. Wagg transferred to the English stage as an opera, putting his verse, of which he was a skilful writer, to the pretty airs of the ballet.

Then there was a little ballet, "Le Rossignol," which Mr. Wagg transferred to the English stage as an opera, putting his verse to the pretty tunes.


It was dressed in old French costume, and little Lord Southdown now appeared admirably attired in the disguise of an old woman hobbling about the stage with a faultless crooked stick.

Little Lord Southdown now appeared admirably attired as an old woman hobbling about with a stick.


Trills of melody were heard behind the scenes, and gurgling from a sweet pasteboard cottage covered with roses and trellis work.

Trills of melody were heard behind the scenes, gurgling from a sweet pasteboard cottage.


"Philomele, Philomele," cries the old woman, and Philomele comes out.


More applause--it is Mrs. Rawdon Crawley in powder and patches, the most ravissante little Marquise in the world.

More applause - it is Mrs. Rawdon Crawley, ravishing in powder and patches.


She comes in laughing, humming, and frisks about the stage with all the innocence of theatrical youth--she makes a curtsey.

She frisks about the stage with the innocence of theatrical youth.


Mamma says "Why, child, you are always laughing and singing," and away she goes, with--

Mamma says, "Why, child, you are always laughing and singing;" at which she


sings a sweet ditty called The Rose Upon My Balcony.


The rose upon my balcony the morning air perfuming Was leafless all the winter time and pining for the spring; You ask me why her breath is sweet and why her cheek is blooming, It is because the sun is out and birds begin to sing.


The nightingale, whose melody is through the greenwood ringing, Was silent when the boughs were bare and winds were blowing keen: And if, Mamma, you ask of me the reason of his singing, It is because the sun is out and all the leaves are green.


Thus each performs his part, Mamma, the birds have found their voices, The blowing rose a flush, Mamma, her bonny cheek to dye; And there's sunshine in my heart, Mamma, which wakens and rejoices, And so I sing and blush, Mamma, and that's the reason why.


During the intervals of the stanzas of this ditty, the good-natured personage addressed as Mamma by the singer, and whose large whiskers appeared under her cap, seemed very anxious to exhibit her maternal affection by embracing the innocent creature who performed the daughter's part.

During this, her Mamma, with large whiskers under her cap, seems very anxious to show her maternal affection by embracing the innocent daughter


Every caress was received with loud acclamations of laughter by the sympathizing audience.


At its conclusion (while the music was performing a symphony as if ever so many birds were warbling) the whole house was unanimous for an encore: and applause and bouquets without end were showered upon the Nightingale of the evening.

At the end the whole house was unanimous for an encore: and applause and bouquets were showered upon the charade's solution: the Nightingale.


Lord Steyne's voice of applause was loudest of all.


Becky, the nightingale, took the flowers which he threw to her and pressed them to her heart with the air of a consummate comedian.

Becky took the flowers which he threw to her and pressed them to her heart with a comical air.