He flattered himself that he was too good an Englishman to regard the ordinary political attacks to which candidates were, as a matter of course, subject at elections;--and he could stretch his back to bear perhaps a little more than these, particularly as he looked forward to a triumphant return.

He flattered himself that he was too good an Englishman to bother about the attacks which were made on candidates at elections; particularly as he looked forward to a triumphant return.


But things had been said, and published, which the excitement of an election could not justify, and as to these things he must have recourse to the law.

But things had been said, and published, which an election could not justify, and as to these things he must go to law.

Chapter 63: Mr. Melmotte on the Day of the Election


Then he made some allusion to the Princes and the Emperor, and concluded by observing that it was the proudest boast of his life to be an Englishman and a Londoner.

Then he made some allusion to the Princes and the Emperor, and concluded by saying that it was the proudest boast of his life to be an Englishman and a Londoner.


It was asserted afterwards that this was the only good speech he had ever been known to make; and it was certainly successful, as he was applauded throughout Covent Garden.

It was asserted afterwards that this was the only good speech he had ever made; and it was certainly successful.


A reporter for the "Breakfast Table" who was on duty at the place, looking for paragraphs as to the conduct of electors, gave an account of the speech in that paper, and made more of it, perhaps, than it deserved.

A reporter for the Breakfast Table, who was on duty at the place, gave an account of the speech in that paper, and made more of it, perhaps, than it deserved.


It was asserted afterwards, and given as a great proof of Melmotte's cleverness, that he had planned the thing and gone to Covent Garden all alone having considered that in that way could he best regain a step in reputation; but in truth the affair had not been preconcerted.


It was while in Whitehall Place that he had first thought of going to Covent Garden, and he had had no idea of making a speech till the people had gathered round him.


It was then noon, and he had to determine what he should do next.

It was then noon, and he had to decide what to do next.


He was half inclined to go round to all the booths and make speeches.


His success at Covent Garden had been very pleasant to him.

His success at Covent Garden had been very pleasant.


But he feared that he might not be so successful elsewhere.


He had shown that he was not afraid of the electors.


Then an idea struck him that he would go boldly into the City,--to his own offices in Abchurch Lane.

An idea struck him that he would go boldly into the City, to his offices in Abchurch Lane


He had determined to be absent on this day, and would not be expected.

, although he would not be expected today.


But his appearance there could not on that account be taken amiss.


Whatever enmities there might be, or whatever perils, he would face them.

Whatever perils there might be, he would face them.


He got a cab therefore and had himself driven to Abchurch Lane.

He got a cab and had himself driven to Abchurch Lane.


The clerks were hanging about doing nothing, as though it were a holiday.

The clerks there were hanging about doing nothing, as though it were a holiday.


The dinner, the election, and the rumour together had altogether demoralized them.


But some of them at least were there, and they showed no signs of absolute insubordination.


No; Mr. Grendall had not been there; but Mr. Cohenlupe was in Mr. Grendall's room.

No; but Mr. Cohenlupe was in Mr. Grendall's room.


At this moment he hardly desired to see Mr. Cohenlupe.


That gentleman was privy to many of his transactions, but was by no means privy to them all.

That gentleman was privy to many of his transactions, but by no means all.


Mr. Cohenlupe knew that the estate at Pickering had been purchased, and knew that it had been mortgaged.

Cohenlupe knew that the estate at Pickering had been purchased and mortgaged.


He knew also what had become of the money which had so been raised.


But he knew nothing of the circumstances of the purchase, although he probably surmised that Melmotte had succeeded in getting the title-deeds on credit, without paying the money.

But he knew nothing of the circumstances of the purchase.


He was afraid that he could hardly see Cohenlupe and hold his tongue, and that he could not speak to him without danger.

Melmotte felt that he could not speak to Cohenlupe without danger.


He and Cohenlupe might have to stand in a dock together; and Cohenlupe had none of his spirit.

They might have to stand in a dock together.


But the clerks would think, and would talk, were he to leave the office without seeing his old friend.

But the clerks would talk if he were to leave the office without seeing his old friend.


He went therefore into his own room, and called to Cohenlupe as he did so.

He went therefore into his room, and called to Cohenlupe.


"Ve didn't expect you here to-day," said the member for Staines.


"Nor did I expect to come," said Melmotte.


But there isn't much to do at Westminster while the ballot is going on; so I came up, just to look at the letters.

"But there isn't much to do at Westminster while the ballot is going on; so I came to look at the letters.


The dinner went off pretty well yesterday, eh?"


Vy did the Lord Mayor stay away, Melmotte?"


"Because he's an ass and a cur," said Mr. Melmotte with an assumed air of indignation.

"Because he's an ass and a cur," said Mr. Melmotte, with assumed indignation.


"Alf and his people had got hold of him.


There was ever so much fuss about it at first,--whether he would accept the invitation.


I say it was an insult to the City to take it and not to come.


I shall be even with him some of these days."

I shall be even with him one of these days."


"Things will go on just the same as usual, Melmotte?"


"There's ever so much been said," whispered Cohenlupe.


"Said;--yes," ejaculated Melmotte very loudly.

"Said; yes," ejaculated Melmotte very loudly.


"You're not such a fool, I hope, as to believe every word you hear."


You'll have enough to believe, if you do."


"There's no knowing vat anybody does know, and vat anybody does not know," said Cohenlupe.

"There's no knowing vat anybody knows," said Cohenlupe.


"Look you here, Cohenlupe,"--and now Melmotte also sank his voice to a whisper,--"keep your tongue in your mouth; go about just as usual, and say nothing.

"Look here, Cohenlupe," - and Melmotte also sank his voice to a whisper - "go about just as usual, and say nothing.


There has been some heavy pulls upon us."


"But any paper with my name to it will come right."

Any paper with my name to it will come right.


"That's nothing;--nothing at all," said Cohenlupe.


I've bought some property and have paid for it; and I have bought some, and have not yet paid for it.


"You hold your tongue, and go about your business.

"Hold your tongue, and go about your business.


Cohenlupe had been very low in spirits, and was still low in spirits; but he was somewhat better after the visit of the great man to the City.

Cohenlupe had been very low in spirits; but he was somewhat better after Melmotte's visit.


Mr. Melmotte was as good as his word and walked straight to the bank.


He kept two accounts at different banks, one for his business, and one for his private affairs.


The one he now entered was that which kept what we may call his domestic account.

his domestic account rather than his business accounts.


He walked straight through, after his old fashion, to the room behind the bank in which sat the manager and the manager's one clerk, and stood upon the rug before the fire-place just as though nothing had happened,--or as nearly as though nothing had happened as was within the compass of his powers.

He walked straight through to the back room in which sat the manager and the manager's clerk, and stood before the fire-place just as though nothing had happened.


In keeping up an appearance intended to be natural he was obliged to be somewhat milder than his wont.


The manager did not behave nearly as well as he did, and the clerks manifestly betrayed their emotion.

The manager did not behave nearly as well, and the clerks betrayed their emotion.


Melmotte saw that it was so;--but he had expected it, and had come there on purpose to "put it down."

Melmotte saw it; but he had expected it, and had come on purpose to "put it down."


"We hardly expected to see you in the City to-day, Mr. Melmotte."

"We hardly expected to see you in the City today, Mr. Melmotte."


"And I didn't expect to see myself here.


But it always happens that when one expects that there's most to be done, there's nothing to be done at all.


They're all at work down at Westminster, balloting; but as I can't go on voting for myself, I'm of no use.

they're all at work down at Westminster, balloting; and as I can't vote for myself, I'm of no use.


I've been at Covent Garden this morning, making a stump speech, and if all that they say there is true, I haven't much to be afraid of."

I've been at Covent Garden this morning, making a stump speech."


They say the Emperor liked it better than anything that has been done for him yet."


This was a brilliant flash of imagination.


"For a friend to dine with me every day, you know, I should prefer somebody who had a little more to say for himself.

"For a dining companion, I should prefer somebody with a little more to say for himself.


But then, perhaps, you know, if you or I were in China we shouldn't have much to say for ourselves;--eh?"

But then, perhaps, if you or I were in China we shouldn't have much to say for ourselves; eh?


The manager acceded to this proposition.


His lordship from over the way didn't come."


He was frightened at the last moment;--took it into his head that his authority in the City was somehow compromised.


But the wonder was that the dinner went on without him."


Then Melmotte referred to the purport of his call there that day.

Then Melmotte referred to the purpose of his call.


He would have to draw large cheques for his private wants.


"You don't give a dinner to an Emperor of China for nothing, you know."

"You don't give a dinner to an Emperor of China for nothing."


He had been in the habit of over-drawing on his private account,--making arrangements with the manager.


But now, in the manager's presence, he drew a regular cheque on his business account for a large sum, and then, as a sort of afterthought, paid in the 250 which he had received from Mr. Broune on account of the money which Sir Felix had taken from Marie.

He drew a regular cheque on his business account for a large sum, and then, as a sort of afterthought, paid in the 250 which he had received from Mr. Broune.


"There don't seem much the matter with him," said the manager, when Melmotte had left the room.

"There don't seem much the matter with him," said the manager, when Melmotte had left.


But the feeling of the room after full discussion inclined to the opinion that the rumours had been a political manoeuvre.

They inclined to the opinion that the rumours had been a political manuvre.


Nevertheless, Mr. Melmotte would not now have been allowed to overdraw at the present moment.

Nevertheless, Mr. Melmotte would not have been allowed to overdraw at the present moment.


In another part of Suffolk, not very far from Bungay, there was a lady whose friends had not managed her affairs as well as Ruby's friends had done for Ruby.

In another part of Suffolk, not far from Bungay,


Miss Georgiana Longestaffe in the early days of August was in a very miserable plight.

Miss Georgiana Longestaffe was in a very miserable plight.


Her sister's marriage with Mr. George Whitstable was fixed for the first of September, a day which in Suffolk is of all days the most sacred; and the combined energies of the houses of Caversham and Toodlam were being devoted to that happy event.

Her sister's marriage with Mr. George Whitstable was fixed for the first of September, and


Poor Georgey's position was in every respect wretched, but its misery was infinitely increased by the triumph of those hymeneals.

poor Georgey's misery was greatly increased by the triumph of that coming wedding.


It was but the other day that she had looked down from a very great height on her elder sister, and had utterly despised the squire of Toodlam.

It was only the other day that she had looked down from a great height on her elder sister, and had utterly despised the squire of Toodlam.


And at that time, still so recent, this contempt from her had been accepted as being almost reasonable.


Sophia had hardly ventured to rebel against it, and Mr. Whitstable himself had been always afraid to encounter the shafts of irony with which his fashionable future sister-in-law attacked him.


Sophia in her pride of place had become a tyrant, and George Whitstable, petted in the house with those sweetmeats which are always showered on embryo bridegrooms, absolutely gave himself airs.

Sophia in her pride of place had become a tyrant, and George Whitstable absolutely gave himself airs.


At this time Mr. Longestaffe was never at home.


Having assured himself that there was no longer any danger of the Brehgert alliance he had remained in London, thinking his presence to be necessary for the winding up of Melmotte's affairs, and leaving poor Lady Pomona to bear her daughter's ill-humour.

He had remained in London for the winding up of Melmotte's affairs, leaving poor Lady Pomona to bear her daughter's ill-humour.


The family at Caversham consisted therefore of the three ladies, and was enlivened by daily visits from Toodlam.


It will be owned that in this state of things there was very little consolation for Georgiana.


It was not long before she quarrelled altogether with her sister,--to the point of absolutely refusing to act as bridesmaid.

It was not long before Georgiana quarrelled altogether with her sister, to the point of refusing to act as bridesmaid.


The reader may remember that there had been a watch and chain, and that two of the ladies of the family had expressed an opinion that these trinkets should be returned to Mr. Brehgert who had bestowed them.

The reader may remember that there had been a watch and chain, which two of the ladies of the family had said should be returned to Mr. Brehgert.


But Georgiana had not sent them back when a week had elapsed since the receipt of Mr. Brehgert's last letter.

But a week later Georgiana had not sent them back


The matter had perhaps escaped Lady Pomona's memory, but Sophia was happily alive to the honour of her family.


"Georgey," she said one morning in their mother's presence, "don't you think Mr. Brehgert's watch ought to go back to him without any more delay?"


"What have you got to do with anybody's watch?


When papa finds that it has been kept I'm sure he'll be very angry."


"It's no business of yours whether he's angry or not."


"If it isn't sent George will tell Dolly."


That George Whitstable should interfere in her affairs,--that he should talk about her watch and chain.

That George Whitstable should interfere in her affairs!


"I never will speak to George Whitstable again the longest day that ever I live," she said, getting up from her chair.

"I never will speak to George Whitstable again," she said, getting up from her chair.


"My dear, don't say anything so horrible as that," exclaimed the unhappy mother.


What has George Whitstable to do with me?


Because you've landed him, you think he's to ride over the whole family."


"I think Mr. Brehgert ought to have his watch and chain back," said Sophia.


It really must,--or I shall tell your papa."


Subsequently, on the same day, Georgiana brought the watch and chain to her mother, protesting that she had never thought of keeping them, and explaining that she had intended to hand them over to her papa as soon as he should have returned to Caversham.

So Georgiana brought the watch and chain to her mother, protesting that she had never thought of keeping them.


Lady Pomona was now empowered to return them, and they were absolutely confided to the hands of the odious George Whitstable, who about this time made a journey to London in reference to certain garments which he required.

They were confided to the hands of the odious George Whitstable, who was going to a tailor in London.


But Georgiana, though she was so far beaten, kept up her quarrel with her sister.


She would never speak to George Whitstable.


And she would shut herself up on the day of the marriage.

And she would shut herself up on the wedding day.


She did think herself to be very hardly used.

She did think herself to be very badly treated.


What was there left in the world that she could do in furtherance of her future cause?


And what did her father and mother expect would become of her?

What did her father and mother expect would become of her?


Marriage had ever been so clearly placed before her eyes as a condition of things to be achieved by her own efforts, that she could not endure the idea of remaining tranquil in her father's house and waiting till some fitting suitor might find her out.

Marriage had always been so clearly placed before her eyes as a position to be achieved by her own efforts, that she could not endure the idea of waiting in her father's house till some fitting suitor might find her.


She had struggled and struggled,--struggling still in vain,--till every effort of her mind, every thought of her daily life, was pervaded by a conviction that as she grew older from year to year, the struggle should be more intense.

She had struggled and struggled, till every thought of her daily life was pervaded by a conviction that as she grew older the struggle would be more intense.


The swimmer when first he finds himself in the water, conscious of his skill and confident in his strength, can make his way through the water with the full command of all his powers.

The swimmer when first he finds himself in the water is confident in his strength.


But when he begins to feel that the shore is receding from him, that his strength is going, that the footing for which he pants is still far beneath his feet,--that there is peril where before he had contemplated no danger,--then he begins to beat the water with strokes rapid but impotent, and to waste in anxious gaspings the breath on which his very life must depend.

But when he begins to feel that the shore is receding, that his strength is going, then he begins to beat the water with strokes rapid but impotent, and to waste his breath in anxious gaspings.


So it was with poor Georgey Longestaffe.


Something must be done at once, or it would be of no avail.


Twelve years had been passed by her since first she plunged into the stream,--the twelve years of her youth,--and she was as far as ever from the bank; nay, farther, if she believed her eyes.

Twelve years had passed since first she plunged into the stream; and she was as far as ever from the bank - nay, farther.


She too must strike out with rapid efforts, unless, indeed, she would abandon herself and let the waters close over her head.

She must strike out with rapid efforts, unless she would let the waters close over her head.


But immersed as she was here at Caversham, how could she strike at all?


Even now the waters were closing upon her.

the waters were even now closing upon her.


The ripple of the wave was already round her lips; robbing her of breath.

The ripple of the wave was already robbing her of breath.


Ah!--might not there be some last great convulsive effort which might dash her on shore, even if it were upon a rock!


That ultimate failure in her matrimonial projects would be the same as drowning she never for a moment doubted.

She never doubted that failure in her matrimonial projects would be the same as drowning.


It had never occurred to her to consider with equanimity the prospect of living as an old maid.

It had never occurred to her to consider the prospect of living as a tranquil old maid.


It was beyond the scope of her mind to contemplate the chances of a life in which marriage might be well if it came, but in which unmarried tranquillity might also be well should that be her lot.


Nor could she understand that others should contemplate it for her.


No doubt the battle had been carried on for many years so much under the auspices of her father and mother as to justify her in thinking that their theory of life was the same as her own.

The battle had been carried on for so many years under the auspices of her parents that she assumed their theory of life was the same as her own.


Lady Pomona had been very open in her teaching, and Mr. Longestaffe had always given a silent adherence to the idea that the house in London was to be kept open in order that husbands might be caught.


And now when they deserted her in her real difficulty,--when they first told her to live at Caversham all the summer, and then sent her up to the Melmottes, and after that forbade her marriage with Mr. Brehgert,--it seemed to her that they were unnatural parents who gave her a stone when she wanted bread, a serpent when she asked for a fish.

And now when they deserted her in her real difficulty - when they first told her to live at Caversham all the summer, and then sent her up to the Melmottes, and after that forbade her marriage with Mr. Brehgert - it seemed to her that they were unnatural parents who gave her a stone when she wanted bread, a serpent when she asked for a fish.


There was no one living who seemed to care whether she had a husband or not.


She took to walking in solitude about the park, and thought of many things with a grim earnestness which had not hitherto belonged to her character.

She took to walking in solitude about the park, and thought of many things with grim earnestness.


"Mamma," she said one morning when all the care of the household was being devoted to the future comforts,--chiefly in regard to linen,--of Mrs. George Whitstable, "I wonder whether papa has any intention at all about me."

"Mamma," she said one morning, "I wonder whether papa has any intention at all about me."


Does he mean me to live here for ever and ever?"


"I don't think he intends to have a house in town again."


"I suppose we shall stay here at Caversham."


"And I'm to be buried just like a nun in a convent,--only that the nun does it by her own consent and I don't!

"And I'm to be buried just like a nun in a convent!


"I think, my dear, that that is nonsense.


You see company here, just as other people do in the country;--and as for not standing it, I don't know what you mean.

You see company here; and as for not standing it, I don't know what you mean.


As long as you are one of your papa's family of course you must live where he lives."


"Oh, mamma, to hear you talk like that!--It is horrible--horrible!

"Oh, mamma, to hear you talk like that! It is horrible!


Sometimes I almost doubt whether papa does know, and then I think that if he did he would not be so cruel.

Sometimes I almost doubt whether papa does know.


But you understand it all as well as I do myself.


Is it not enough to drive me mad to be going about here by myself, without any prospect of anything?

Is it not enough to drive me mad to be here by myself, without any prospect of anything?


Should you have liked at my age to have felt that you had no chance of having a house of your own to live in?


Why didn't you, among you, let me marry Mr. Brehgert?"

Why didn't you let me marry Mr. Brehgert?"


As she said this she was almost eloquent with passion.


"You know, my dear," said Lady Pomona, "that your papa wouldn't hear of it."


"I know that if you would have helped me I would have done it in spite of papa.

"If you would have helped me I would have done it in spite of papa.


What right has he to domineer over me in that way?


Why shouldn't I have married the man if I chose?


You talk now of shutting up girls in convents as being a thing quite impossible.


Why shouldn't he let me do something for myself?"


Bad as it might be, it couldn't be so bad as Caversham."


"You couldn't have loved him, Georgiana."


I don't know any one who loves any one else.


You won't tell me that Sophy is going to marry that idiot because she loves him!


Did Julia Triplex love that man with the large fortune?


When you wanted Dolly to marry Marie Melmotte you never thought of his loving her.


I had got the better of all that kind of thing before I was twenty."

I had got over all that kind of thing before I was twenty."


"I think a young woman should love her husband."


"It makes me sick, mamma, to hear you talk in that way.


When one has been going on for a dozen years trying to do something,--and I have never had any secrets from you,--then that you should turn round upon me and talk about love!

When one has been going on for a dozen years trying to do something - and then you turn round upon me and talk about love!


Mamma, if you would help me I think I could still manage with Mr. Brehgert."


I should have a house of my own at least, and I should know what I had to expect for the rest of my life.

"I should have a house of my own at least.


If I stay here I shall go mad,--or die."

If I stay here I shall go mad - or die."


"If you will stand to me, mamma, I am sure it may be done.

"If you will stand by me, mamma, I am sure it may be done.


I would write to him, and say that you would see him."


"What abominable prejudice;--what wicked prejudice!


As if you didn't know that all that is changed now!


What possible difference can it make about a man's religion?


Of course I know that he is vulgar, and old, and has a lot of children.


But if I can put up with that, I don't think that you and papa have a right to interfere.


I am wretched to see you so discontented.


If I could do anything for you, I would.


But I will not meddle about Mr. Brehgert.


I don't think you know how angry your papa can be."


"I'm not going to let papa be a bugbear to frighten me.


And I'd rather he would than shut me up here.


As for you, mamma, I don't think you care for me a bit.


Because Sophy is going to be married to that oaf, you are become so proud of her that you haven't half a thought for anybody else."

Because Sophy is going to be married to that oaf, you are become so proud of her that you haven't a thought for anybody else."


"I know what's unjust,--and I know who's ill-treated.


I tell you fairly, mamma, that I shall write to Mr. Brehgert and tell him that I am quite ready to marry him.

I tell you, mamma, that I shall write to Mr. Brehgert and say that I am quite ready to marry him.


I don't know why he should be afraid of papa.


I don't mean to be afraid of him any more, and you may tell him just what I say."


All this made Lady Pomona very miserable.


She did not communicate her daughter's threat to Mr. Longestaffe, but she did discuss it with Sophia.

She did not tell Mr. Longestaffe, but she did discuss her daughter's threat with Sophia.


Sophia was of opinion that Georgiana did not mean it, and gave two or three reasons for thinking so.

Sophia thought that Georgiana did not mean it, because - amongst other reasons


In the first place had she intended it she would have written her letter without saying a word about it to Lady Pomona.


And she certainly would not have declared her purpose of writing such letter after Lady Pomona had refused her assistance.


And moreover,--Lady Pomona had received no former hint of the information which was now conveyed to her,--Georgiana was in the habit of meeting the curate of the next parish almost every day in the park.


"She is walking with Mr. Batherbolt almost every day."


I heard the bishop laughing at him because he called himself a celibate."


Dolly has a living of his own that came to him with his property."


"Dolly would be sure to sell the presentation," said Lady Pomona.


"Perhaps the bishop would do something," said the anxious sister, "when he found that the man wasn't a celibate.

Or perhaps the bishop would do something.


Anything, mamma, would be better than the Jew."


To this latter proposition Lady Pomona gave a cordial assent.


"Of course it is a come-down to marry a curate,--but a clergyman is always considered to be decent."

"Of course it is a come-down to marry a curate; but a clergyman is always considered to be decent."


The preparations for the Whitstable marriage went on without any apparent attention to the intimacy which was growing up between Mr. Batherbolt and Georgiana.


There was no room to apprehend anything wrong on that side.

They did not apprehend anything wrong on


Mr. Batherbolt was so excellent a young man, and so exclusively given to religion, that, even should Sophy's suspicion be correct, he might be trusted to walk about the park with Georgiana.

Mr. Batherbolt's part. He was so excellent a young man, and so exclusively given to religion, that, even should Sophy's suspicion be correct, he might be trusted to walk about the park with Georgiana.


Should he at any time come forward and ask to be allowed to make the lady his wife, there would be no disgrace in the matter.

Should he at any time ask if he could make the lady his wife, there would be no disgrace in it.


He was a clergyman and a gentleman,--and the poverty would be Georgiana's own affair.

He was a clergyman and a gentleman, and the poverty would be Georgiana's affair.


Mr. Longestaffe returned home only on the eve of his eldest daughter's marriage, and with him came Dolly.

Mr. Longestaffe returned home on the eve of Sophia's marriage, and with him came Dolly.


Great trouble had been taken to teach him that duty absolutely required his presence at his sister's marriage, and he had at last consented to be there.


It is not generally considered a hardship by a young man that he should have to go into a good partridge country on the 1st of September, and Dolly was an acknowledged sportsman.


Nevertheless, he considered that he had made a great sacrifice to his family, and he was received by Lady Pomona as though he were a bright example to other sons.


He found the house not in a very comfortable position, for Georgiana still persisted in her refusal either to be a bridesmaid or to speak to Mr. Whitstable; but still his presence, which was very rare at Caversham, gave some assistance: and, as at this moment his money affairs had been comfortably arranged, he was not called upon to squabble with his father.

He found the house not very comfortable, for Georgiana still persisted in her refusal either to be a bridesmaid or to speak to Mr. Whitstable; but still his presence, which was rare at Caversham, gave some assistance.


It was a great thing that one of the girls should be married, and Dolly had brought down an enormous china dog, about five feet high, as a wedding present, which added materially to the happiness of the meeting.

He had brought down an enormous china dog, about five feet high, as a wedding present, which added to the happiness of the meeting.


Lady Pomona had determined that she would tell her husband of those walks in the park, and of other signs of growing intimacy which had reached her ears;--but this she would postpone until after the Whitstable marriage.

Lady Pomona had determined to tell her husband of those walks in the park with Mr. Batherbolt; but not until after the Whitstable marriage.


But at nine o'clock on the morning set apart for that marriage, they were all astounded by the news that Georgiana had run away with Mr. Batherbolt.

But at nine o'clock on the morning of the wedding, they were all astounded by the news that Georgiana had run away with Mr. Batherbolt.


He had met her at the park gate, and had driven her over to catch the early train at Stowmarket.


Then it appeared, too, that by degrees various articles of her property had been conveyed to Mr. Batherbolt's lodgings in the adjacent village, so that Lady Pomona's fear that Georgiana would not have a thing to wear, was needless.


When the fact was first known it was almost felt, in the consternation of the moment, that the Whitstable marriage must be postponed.


But Sophia had a word to say to her mother on that head, and she said it.

But Sophia said a word to her mother on that head, and


At first Dolly talked of going after his younger sister, and the father did dispatch various telegrams.


But the fugitives could not be brought back, and with some little delay,--which made the marriage perhaps uncanonical but not illegal,--Mr. George Whitstable was made a happy man.

But the fugitives could not be brought back, and with some little delay, Mr. George Whitstable was made a happy man.


It need only be added that in about a month's time Georgiana returned to Caversham as Mrs. Batherbolt, and that she resided there with her husband in much connubial bliss for the next six months.


At the end of that time they removed to a small living, for the purchase of which Mr. Longestaffe had managed to raise the necessary money.

After that they removed to a small living, for which Mr. Longestaffe had managed to raise the necessary money.


Georgiana Longestaffe had now been staying with the Melmottes for a fortnight, and her prospects in regard to the London season had not much improved.


Her brother had troubled her no further, and her family at Caversham had not, as far as she was aware, taken any notice of Dolly's interference.

Her father had, apparently, taken no notice of Dolly's interference.


Twice a week she received a cold, dull letter from her mother,--such letters as she had been accustomed to receive when away from home; and these she had answered, always endeavouring to fill her sheet with some customary description of fashionable doings, with some bit of scandal such as she would have repeated for her mother's amusement,--and her own delectation in the telling of it,--had there been nothing painful in the nature of her sojourn in London.

Twice a week she received a cold, dull letter from her mother; and she had answered with descriptions of fashionable doings, and bits of scandal, as if there was nothing painful in the nature of her stay in London.


She did not say that she was taken to the houses in which it was her ambition to be seen.

She had not been taken to those houses where she wished to be seen


She would have lied directly in saying so.


But she did not announce her own disappointment.

; but she did not announce her disappointment.


She had chosen to come up to the Melmottes in preference to remaining at Caversham, and she would not declare her own failure.

She had chosen to come here rather than remaining at Caversham, and she would not declare her own failure.


"I hope they are kind to you," Lady Pomona always said.


But Georgiana did not tell her mother whether the Melmottes were kind or unkind.


In truth, her "season" was a very unpleasant season.

In truth, her "season" was very unpleasant.


Her mode of living was altogether different to anything she had already known.

Her way of life was altogether different to anything she had known.


The house in Bruton Street had never been very bright, but the appendages of life there had been of a sort which was not known in the gorgeous mansion in Grosvenor Square.


It had been full of books and little toys and those thousand trifling household gods which are accumulated in years, and which in their accumulation suit themselves to the taste of their owners.

at least it had been full of books and little toys and those thousand trifling household gods which are accumulated over years.


In Grosvenor Square there were no Lares;--no toys, no books, nothing but gold and grandeur, pomatum, powder and pride.

In Grosvenor Square there were no toys, no books, nothing but gold and grandeur, powder and pride.


The Longestaffe life had not been an easy, natural, or intellectual life; but the Melmotte life was hardly endurable even by a Longestaffe.

The Longestaffe life had not been an easy or intellectual life; but the Melmotte life was hardly endurable.


She had, however, come prepared to suffer much, and was endowed with considerable power of endurance in pursuit of her own objects.

She had, however, come prepared to suffer much.


Having willed to come, even to the Melmottes, in preference to remaining at Caversham, she fortified herself to suffer much.


Could she have ridden in the park at mid-day in desirable company, and found herself in proper houses at midnight, she would have borne the rest, bad as it might have been.

If she could have ridden in the park, and visited proper houses, she would have borne the rest.


She had her horse, but could with difficulty get any proper companion.

She had her horse, but could hardly get any proper companion.


She had been in the habit of riding with one of the Primero girls,--and old Primero would accompany them, or perhaps a brother Primero, or occasionally her own father.

She had been in the habit of riding with one of the Primero girls, accompanied by their father or a brother; and


And then, when once out, she would be surrounded by a cloud of young men,--and though there was but little in it, a walking round and round the same bit of ground with the same companions and with the smallest attempt at conversation, still it had been the proper thing and had satisfied her.

when out, she would be surrounded by a cloud of young men. Even though they had been walking round and round the same bit of ground with the same companions and conversation, still it had satisfied her.


Now it was with difficulty that she could get any cavalier such as the laws of society demand.


Even Penelope Primero snubbed her,--whom she, Georgiana Longestaffe, had hitherto endured and snubbed.


She was just allowed to join them when old Primero rode, and was obliged even to ask for that assistance.


She could only go where Madame Melmotte went, and Madame Melmotte was more prone to receive people at home than to go out.

She could only go where Madame Melmotte went, and Madame Melmotte preferred to receive people at home rather than going out.


And the people she did receive were antipathetic to Miss Longestaffe.

And the people she received were antipathetic to Miss Longestaffe.


She did not even know who they were, whence they came, or what was their nature.

She did not know who they were, or whence they came.


They seemed to be as little akin to her as would have been the shopkeepers in the small town near Caversham.

They were no more akin to her than the shopkeepers of Caversham.


She would sit through long evenings almost speechless, trying to fathom the depth of the vulgarity of her associates.

She would sit through long evenings almost speechless, trying to fathom the depth of their vulgarity.


Occasionally she was taken out, and was then, probably, taken to very grand houses.

Occasionally she was taken out to very grand houses,


The two duchesses and the Marchioness of Auld Reekie received Madame Melmotte, and the garden parties of royalty were open to her.


And some of the most elaborate ftes of the season,--which indeed were very elaborate on behalf of this and that travelling potentate,--were attained.

, and some of the most elaborate ftes of the season, held on behalf of travelling potentates.


On these occasions Miss Longestaffe was fully aware of the struggle that was always made for invitations, often unsuccessfully, but sometimes with triumph.

Miss Longestaffe was fully aware of the struggle that was made for invitations.


Even the bargains, conducted by the hands of Lord Alfred and his mighty sister, were not altogether hidden from her.


The Emperor of China was to be in London and it was thought proper that some private person, some untitled individual, should give the Emperor a dinner, so that the Emperor might see how an English merchant lives.

The Emperor of China was to be in London; and it was thought proper that some private person should give a dinner, so that the Emperor might see how an English merchant lives.


Mr. Melmotte was chosen on condition that he would spend 10,000 on the banquet;--and, as a part of his payment for this expenditure, was to be admitted with his family, to a grand entertainment given to the Emperor at Windsor Park.

Mr. Melmotte was chosen on condition that he would spend 10,000 on the banquet; and in return his family would be admitted to a grand entertainment for the Emperor at Windsor Park.


Of these good things Georgiana Longestaffe would receive her share.

Of these good things Georgiana would receive her share.


But she went to them as a Melmotte and not as a Longestaffe,--and when amidst these gaieties, though she could see her old friends, she was not with them.

But she went to them as a Melmotte and not as a Longestaffe.


She was ever behind Madame Melmotte, till she hated the make of that lady's garments and the shape of that lady's back.


She had told both her father and mother very plainly that it behoved her to be in London at this time of the year that she might--look for a husband.

She had told her parents very plainly that she needed to be in London at this time of year to look for a husband.


She had not hesitated in declaring her purpose; and that purpose, together with the means of carrying it out, had not appeared to them to be unreasonable.


She had meant, when she first started on her career, to have a lord;--but lords are scarce.

, and had meant, when she first started on her career, to have a lord; but lords are scarce.


She was herself not very highly born, not very highly gifted, not very lovely, not very pleasant, and she had no fortune.

She was herself not very highly born, not very gifted, not very lovely, not very pleasant, and she had no fortune.


She had long made up her mind that she could do without a lord, but that she must get a commoner of the proper sort.


He must be a man with a place in the country and sufficient means to bring him annually to London.

He must be a man with a place in the country and sufficient means to come yearly to London.


He must be a gentleman,--and, probably, in parliament.

He must be a gentleman, and, probably, in parliament.


And above all things he must be in the right set.

And above all, he must be in the right set


She would rather go on for ever struggling than take some country Whitstable as her sister was about to do.

; she would not take some country Whitstable as her sister was about to do.


But now the men of the right sort never came near her.


The one object for which she had subjected herself to all this ignominy seemed to have vanished altogether in the distance.

The one object for which she had subjected herself to all this ignominy seemed to have vanished in the distance.


When by chance she danced or exchanged a few words with the Nidderdales and Grassloughs whom she used to know, they spoke to her with a want of respect which she felt and tasted but could hardly analyse.

When by chance she exchanged a few words with the Nidderdales and Grassloughs, they spoke to her with a lack of respect.


Even Miles Grendall, who had hitherto been below her notice, attempted to patronise her in a manner that bewildered her.

Even Miles Grendall tried to patronise her.


And then from time to time little rumours reached her ears which made her aware that, in the teeth of all Mr. Melmotte's social successes, a general opinion that he was a gigantic swindler was rather gaining ground than otherwise.

And from time to time little rumours reached her ears which made her aware that, despite Mr. Melmotte's social successes, a general opinion that he was a gigantic swindler was rather gaining ground than otherwise.


"Your host is a wonderful fellow, by George!"


"No one seems to know which way he'll turn up at last."


"There's nothing like being a robber, if you can only rob enough," said Lord Grasslough,--not exactly naming Melmotte, but very clearly alluding to him.


There was a vacancy for a member of parliament at Westminster, and Melmotte was about to come forward as a candidate.

There was a vacancy for a member of parliament at Westminster, and Melmotte was to come forward as a candidate.


"If he can manage that I think he'll pull through," she heard one man say.


"If money'll do it, it will be done," said another.


Mr. Melmotte was admitted into society, because of some enormous power which was supposed to lie in his hands; but even by those who thus admitted him he was regarded as a thief and a scoundrel.

Mr. Melmotte was admitted into society, because of some enormous power which was supposed to lie in his hands; but even those who admitted him regarded him as a scoundrel.


This was the man whose house had been selected by her father in order that she might make her search for a husband from beneath his wing!

This was the man whose house her father had sent her to, in order to search for a husband!


In her agony she wrote to her old friend Julia Triplex, now the wife of Sir Damask Monogram.


She had been really intimate with Julia Triplex, and had been sympathetic when a brilliant marriage had been achieved.

She had been really intimate with Julia Triplex, and had been sympathetic when she made a brilliant marriage.


Julia had been without fortune, but very pretty.


Sir Damask was a man of great wealth, whose father had been a contractor.

Sir Damask, though the grandson of a butcher, was a man of great wealth.


But Sir Damask himself was a sportsman, keeping many horses on which other men often rode, a yacht in which other men sunned themselves, a deer forest, a moor, a large machinery for making pheasants.

He kept a yacht, a deer forest, and a moor for pheasants.


He shot pigeons at Hurlingham, drove four-in-hand in the park, had a box at every race-course, and was the most good-natured fellow known.

He shot pigeons at Hurlingham, drove four-in-hand in the park, had a box at every race-course, and was a good-natured fellow.


He had really conquered the world, had got over the difficulty of being the grandson of a butcher, and was now as good as though the Monograms had gone to the crusades.


Julia Triplex was equal to her position, and made the very most of it.

Julia Triplex made the most of her position as Lady Monogram.


She dispensed champagne and smiles, and made everybody, including herself, believe that she was in love with her husband.


Lady Monogram had climbed to the top of the tree, and in that position had been, of course, invaluable to her old friend.


We must give her her due and say that she had been fairly true to friendship while Georgiana--behaved herself.

She had been fairly true in friendship while Georgiana behaved herself.


She thought that Georgiana in going to the Melmottes had--not behaved herself, and therefore she had determined to drop Georgiana.

But she thought that Georgiana in going to the Melmottes had not behaved herself, and therefore she had determined to drop her.


"Heartless, false, purse-proud creature," Georgiana said to herself as she wrote the following letter in humiliating agony.

"Heartless, false creature," Georgiana said to herself as she wrote the following letter in humiliating agony.


I think you hardly understand my position.


You did not use to be ill-natured, and I hardly think you can have become so now when you have everything pleasant around you.


I do not think that I have done anything that should make an old friend treat me in this way, and therefore I write to ask you to let me see you.

I do not think that I have done anything that should make an old friend treat me in this way.


Of course it is because I am staying here.


You know me well enough to be sure that it can't be my own choice.

You may be sure that it is not my own choice.


If there is anything against these people, I suppose papa does not know it.


Of course they are not like anything that I have been used to.

, nor like anything that I have been used to.


But when papa told me that the house in Bruton Street was to be shut up and that I was to come here, of course I did as I was bid.


I don't think an old friend like you, whom I have always liked more than anybody else, ought to cut me for it.


It's not about the parties, but about yourself that I mind.


I don't ask you to come here, but if you will see me I can have the carriage and will go to you.


It was a troublesome letter to get written.


Lady Monogram was her junior in age and had once been lower than herself in social position.


In the early days of their friendship she had sometimes domineered over Julia Triplex, and had been entreated by Julia, in reference to balls here and routes there.

, and in the early days of their friendship Georgiana had sometimes domineered over her.


The great Monogram marriage had been accomplished very suddenly, and had taken place,--exalting Julia very high,--just as Georgiana was beginning to allow her aspirations to descend.

The great Monogram marriage had exalted Julia very high, just as Georgiana's own aspirations were beginning to descend.


It was in that very season that she moved her castle in the air from the Upper to the Lower House.


And now she was absolutely begging for notice, and praying that she might not be cut!

And now she was absolutely begging and praying that she might not be cut!


She sent her letter by post and on the following day received a reply, which was left by a footman.

On the following day a reply was brought by a footman.


Of course I shall be delighted to see you.


We happen to have got into different sets, but that is not my fault.


Sir Damask won't let me call on the Melmottes.


You wouldn't have me go where he tells me not.


I don't know anything about them myself, except that I did go to their ball.


I shall be at home all to-morrow till three,--that is to-day I mean, for I'm writing after coming home from Lady Killarney's ball; but if you wish to see me alone you had better come before lunch.

I shall be at home all tomorrow till three; but if you wish to see me alone you had better come before lunch.


Georgiana condescended to borrow the carriage and reached her friend's house a little after noon.

Georgiana reached her friend's house a little after noon.


The two ladies kissed each other when they met--of course, and then Miss Longestaffe at once began.

The two ladies kissed each other, and then Miss Longestaffe at once began.


"Julia, I did think that you would at any rate have asked me to your second ball."

"Julia, I did think that you would at least have asked me to your second ball."


"Of course you would have been asked if you had been up in Bruton Street."


"But the people in a house make a great deal of difference, my dear.

"The people in a house make a great deal of difference, my dear.


I don't want to quarrel with you, my dear; but I can't know the Melmottes."

I don't want to quarrel with you; but I can't know the Melmottes.


"Do you mean to say that you can't ask anybody to your house without asking everybody that lives with that person?


"I would have come with the Primeros, Julia."


When that great affair was going on in February, we didn't know much about the people.


I was told that everybody was going and therefore I got Sir Damask to let me go.


He says now that he won't let me know them; and after having been at their house I can't ask you out of it, without asking them too."


"I'm very sorry, my dear, but I can't go against my husband."


"Everybody goes to their house," said Georgiana, pleading her cause to the best of her ability.

"Everybody goes to their house," pleaded Georgiana.


"The Duchess of Stevenage has dined in Grosvenor Square since I have been there."

"The Duchess of Stevenage has dined there.


"We all know what that means," replied Lady Monogram.


"And people are giving their eyes to be asked to the dinner party which he is to give to the Emperor in July;--and even to the reception afterwards."

And people are giving their eyes to be asked to the dinner party which he is to give to the Emperor in July."


"To hear you talk, Georgiana, one would think that you didn't understand anything," said Lady Monogram.


"People are going to see the Emperor, not to see the Melmottes.


I dare say we might have gone,--only I suppose we shan't now because of this row."

I dare say we might have gone, only I suppose we shan't now because of this row."


"I don't know what you mean by a row, Julia."


Going there when the Emperor of China is there, or anything of that kind, is no more than going to the play.


Somebody chooses to get all London into his house, and all London chooses to go.


But it isn't understood that that means acquaintance.


I should meet Madame Melmotte in the park afterwards and not think of bowing to her."


But really it does seem to me that you ought to understand these things as well as anybody.

But really you ought to understand these things.


I don't find any fault with you for going to the Melmottes,--though I was very sorry to hear it; but when you have done it, I don't think you should complain of people because they won't have the Melmottes crammed down their throats."

I don't find any fault with you for staying with the Melmottes, though I was very sorry to hear it; but I don't think you should complain of people because they won't have the Melmottes crammed down their throats."


"Nobody has wanted it," said Georgiana sobbing.

"Nobody has wanted it," said Georgiana, with a sob.


At this moment the door was opened, and Sir Damask came in.


"I'm talking to your wife about the Melmottes," she continued, determined to take the bull by the horns.


"I'm staying there, and--I think it--unkind that Julia--hasn't been--to see me.

"I'm staying there, and I think it - unkind that Julia - hasn't been to see me."


And Sir Damask, folding his hands together, raising his eyebrows, and standing on the rug, looked as though he had solved the whole difficulty.

And Sir Damask, folding his hands together, looked as though he had solved the whole difficulty.


[Illustration: Sir Damask solving the difficulty.]


We're delighted to see you, Miss Longestaffe--I am, always.

We're delighted to see you, Miss Longestaffe.


Then he looked as though he had again explained everything.

-" He looked as though he had again explained everything.


"I've told her that you don't want me to go to the Melmottes," said Lady Monogram.


"Stay and have lunch, Miss Longestaffe."


"Now you're here, you'd better," said Lady Monogram.


I'm sorry that I have not been able to make you understand me.

I'm sorry that I have not been able to make you understand me, Julia.


I could not allow our very long friendship to be dropped without a word."


"Don't say--dropped," exclaimed the baronet.

"Don't say dropped," exclaimed the baronet.


I thought we should have understood each other;--your wife and I.

I thought your wife and I would understand each other;


Wherever she might have gone, I should have made it my business to see her; but she feels differently.

Wherever she might have gone, I should have seen her; but she feels differently.


If you will quarrel, it isn't my doing."


Then Sir Damask led Miss Longestaffe out, and put her into Madame Melmotte's carriage.


"It's the most absurd thing I ever knew in my life," said the wife as soon as her husband had returned to her.

"It's the most absurd thing I ever knew," said his wife as soon as Georgiana had left.


"She hasn't been able to bear to remain down in the country for one season, when all the world knows that her father can't afford to have a house for them in town.

"She couldn't bear to remain down in the country for one season.


Then she condescends to come and stay with these abominations and pretends to feel surprised that her old friends don't run after her.

So she condescends to stay with these abominations and pretends to feel surprised that her old friends don't run after her.


She is old enough to have known better."


"I suppose she likes parties," said Sir Damask.


It's twelve years now since Georgiana Longestaffe came out.


I remember being told of the time when I was first entered myself.


Yes, my dear, you know all about it, I dare say.


I can feel for her, and do feel for her.


But if she will let herself down in that way she can't expect not to be dropped.


You took me there that night when Prince ---- danced with the girl.


Don't you remember the blowsy fat woman at the top of the stairs;--a regular horror?"

The blowsy fat woman at the top of the stairs at the ball; a regular horror?


I was only thinking what a lot of money it all cost."


"I remember her, and if Georgiana Longestaffe thinks I'm going there to make an acquaintance with Madame Melmotte she is very much mistaken.

If Georgiana Longestaffe thinks I'm going to make acquaintance with Madame Melmotte she is very much mistaken.


And if she thinks that that is the way to get married, I think she is mistaken again."

And if she thinks that that is the way to get married, she is mistaken again."


Nothing perhaps is so efficacious in preventing men from marrying as the tone in which married women speak of the struggles made in that direction by their unmarried friends.

Perhaps nothing is so effective in preventing men from marrying, as the tone in which married women speak of these struggles of their unmarried friends.


In the beginning of the last chapter, I informed you exactly _when_ I was born; but I did not inform you _how.

In the beginning of the last chapter, I informed you exactly when I was born; but I did not inform you how.


No_, that particular was reserved entirely for a chapter by itself; --besides, Sir, as you and I are in a manner perfect strangers to each other, it would not have been proper to have let you into too many circumstances relating to myself all at once.

That is reserved for a chapter by itself; - besides, Sir, as you and I are perfect strangers, it would not be proper to let you into too many circumstances relating to me all at once.


I have undertaken, you see, to write not only my life, but my opinions also; hoping and expecting that your knowledge of my character, and of what kind of a mortal I am, by the one, would give you a better relish for the other: As you proceed farther with me, the slight acquaintance, which is now beginning betwixt us, will grow into familiarity; and that, unless one of us is in fault, will terminate in friendship.

I have undertaken, you see, to write not only my life, but my opinions also; hoping and expecting that your knowledge of the one will give you a better relish for the other. As you proceed farther with me, the slight acquaintance, which is now beginning betwixt us, will grow into familiarity; and, unless one of us is in fault, will terminate in friendship.


--_O diem prclarum!_--then nothing which has touched me will be thought trifling in its nature, or tedious in its telling.

O famous day! - then nothing which has touched me will be thought trifling or tedious.


Therefore, my dear friend and companion, if you should think me somewhat sparing of my narrative on my first setting out--bear with me, --and let me go on, and tell my story my own way: --Or, if I should seem now and then to trifle upon the road, --or should sometimes put on a fool's cap with a bell to it, for a moment or two as we pass along, --don't fly off, --but rather courteously give me credit for a little more wisdom than appears upon my outside; --and as we jog on, either laugh with me, or at me, or in short, do anything, --only keep your temper.

Therefore, my dear friend and companion, bear with me, and let me tell my story my own way. Or, if I should seem now and then to trifle upon the road - or should sometimes put on a fool's cap with a bell to it - don't fly off, but rather give me credit for a little more wisdom than appears upon my outside; and as we jog on, either laugh with me, or at me, or in short, do anything, only keep your temper.


There are a thousand resolutions, Sir, both in church and state, as well as in matters, Madam, of a more private concern; --which though they have carried all the appearance in the world of being taken, and entered upon in a hasty, hare-brained, and unadvised manner, were, notwithstanding this (and could you or I have got into the cabinet, or stood behind the curtain, we should have found it was so), weighed, poized, and perpended----argued upon--canvassed through----entered into, and examined on all sides with so much coolness, that the GODDESS of COOLNESS herself (I do not take upon me to prove her existence) could neither have wished it, or done it better.

There are a thousand resolutions, Sir, both in church and state, as well as in private concerns, which, though they have the appearance of being taken in a hasty, hare-brained manner, were, however, weighed - argued about - entered into, and examined on all sides with so much coolness, that the Goddess of Coolness herself could not have done it better.


Of the number of these was my father's resolution of putting me into breeches; which, though determined at once, --in a kind of huff, and a defiance of all mankind, had, nevertheless, been _pro'd_ and _conn'd_, and judicially talked over betwixt him and my mother about a month before, in two several _beds of justice_, which my father had held for that purpose.

One of these was my father's resolution of putting me into breeches; which, though decided in a huff, and a defiance of all mankind, had, nevertheless, been judicially talked over betwixt him and my mother about a month before, in two different beds of justice, which my father had for that purpose.


I shall explain the nature of these beds of justice in my next chapter; and in the chapter following that, you shall step with me, Madam, behind the curtain, only to hear in what kind of manner my father and my mother debated between themselves, this affair of the breeches, --from which you may form an idea, how they debated all lesser matters.

I shall explain the nature of these beds of justice in my next chapter; and in the chapter following that, you shall step with me, Madam, behind the curtain, to hear how my father and my mother debated this affair of the breeches - from which you may form an idea of how they debated all lesser matters.


Doctor _Slop_ and _Susannah_ filed cross-bills against each other in the parlour; which done, as the cataplasm had failed, they retired into the kitchen to prepare a fomentation for me; --and whilst that was doing, my father determined the point as you will read.

After this, as the cataplasm had failed, Dr. Slop and Susannah retired into the kitchen to prepare a fomentation for me; and meanwhile, my father decided the point as you will read.


It was some time in the summer of that year in which _Dendermond_ was taken by the allies, --which was about seven years before my father came into the country, --and about as many, after the time, that my uncle _Toby_ and _Trim_ had privately decamped from my father's house in town, in order to lay some of the finest sieges to some of the finest fortified cities in _Europe_----when my uncle _Toby_ was one evening getting his supper, with _Trim_ sitting behind him at a small sideboard, --I say, sitting--for in consideration of the corporal's lame knee (which sometimes gave him exquisite pain)--when my uncle _Toby_ dined or supped alone, he would never suffer the corporal to stand; and the poor fellow's veneration for his master was such, that, with a proper artillery, my uncle _Toby_ could have taken _Dendermond_ itself, with less trouble than he was able to gain this point over him; for many a time when my uncle _Toby_ supposed the corporal's leg was at rest, he would look back, and detect him standing behind him with the most dutiful respect: this bred more little squabbles betwixt them, than all other causes for five-and-twenty years together --But this is neither here nor there--why do I mention it?

It was in the summer of that year in which Dendermond was taken by the allies, which was about seven years after my uncle Toby and Trim had gone into the country to lay siege upon the bowling-green to some of the finest fortified cities in Europe.
My uncle Toby was one evening at home having his supper, with Trim sitting behind him - for in consideration of the corporal's lame and painful knee, when my uncle Toby dined, he would never allow the corporal to stand; and the poor fellow's veneration for his master was such that my uncle Toby had some trouble in maintaining this point; for often he would look back and see the corporal standing behind him with the most dutiful respect: this bred more little squabbles betwixt them, than all other causes in five-and-twenty years-
But this is neither here nor there. Why do I mention it?

Book 6 - Chapter 6: THE STORY OF LE FEVER


----Ask my pen, --it governs me, --I govern not it.

Ask my pen, it governs me - I govern not it.


He was one evening sitting thus at his supper, when the landlord of a little inn in the village came into the parlour, with an empty phial in his hand, to beg a glass or two of sack; 'Tis for a poor gentleman, --I think, of the army, said the landlord, who has been taken ill at my house four days ago, and has never held up his head since, or had a desire to taste anything, till just now, that he has a fancy for a glass of sack and a thin toast, ----_I think_, says he, taking his hand from his forehead, _it would comfort me_.

He was one evening sitting thus at his supper, when the landlord of a little inn in the village came into the parlour, with an empty phial in his hand, to beg a glass of sherry.
''Tis for a poor gentleman - I think, of the army,' said the landlord, 'who was taken ill at my house four days ago, and has had no desire to taste anything, till just now, when he took a fancy for a glass of sherry and thin toast.


----If I could neither beg, borrow, or buy such a thing--added the landlord, --I would almost steal it for the poor gentleman, he is so ill. ----I hope in God he will still mend, continued he, --we are all of us concerned for him.

If I could not beg it, I would almost steal it for the poor gentleman, he is so ill. We are all of us concerned for him.'


Thou art a good-natured soul, I will answer for thee, cried my uncle _Toby_; and thou shalt drink the poor gentleman's health in a glass of sack thyself, --and take a couple of bottles with my service, and tell him he is heartily welcome to them, and to a dozen more if they will do him good.

'Thou art a good-natured soul,' cried my uncle Toby; 'and thou shalt drink the poor gentleman's health in a glass thyself: take a couple of bottles, and tell him he is heartily welcome to them, and to a dozen more if they will do him good.'


Though I am persuaded, said my uncle _Toby_, as the landlord shut the door, he is a very compassionate fellow--_Trim_, --yet I cannot help entertaining a high opinion of his guest too; there must be something more than common in him, that in so short a time should win so much upon the affections of his host; ----And of his whole family, added the corporal, for they are all concerned for him.

As the landlord shut the door, my uncle said to Trim: 'I am sure he is a very compassionate fellow, Trim - yet I cannot help thinking that there must be something uncommon in his guest, too, to make the landlord and his family care so much for him.


----Step after him, said my uncle _Toby_, --do, _Trim_, --and ask if he knows his name.

Step after him, Trim, do; and ask if he knows his name.'


----I have quite forgot it truly, said the landlord, coming back into the parlour with the corporal, --but I can ask his son again: ----Has he a son with him then?

'I have quite forgot it, truly,' said the landlord, on returning with the corporal, 'but I can ask his son.


--A boy, replied the landlord, of about eleven or twelve years of age; --but the poor creature has tasted almost as little as his father; he does nothing but mourn and lament for him night and day: ----He has not stirred from the bed-side these two days.

He has a boy of eleven or twelve years of age; - but the poor creature has eaten as little as his father; he does nothing but mourn for him, and has not stirred from the bedside these two days.'


My uncle _Toby_ laid down his knife and fork, and thrust his plate from before him, as the landlord gave him the account; and _Trim_, without being ordered, took away, without saying one word, and in a few minutes after brought him his pipe and tobacco.

My uncle Toby laid down his knife and fork, and thrust his plate away. Trim brought him his pipe and tobacco.


----Stay in the room a little, said my uncle _Toby_.

'Stay a little,' said my uncle Toby, lighting his pipe.


_Trim!_----said my uncle _Toby_, after he lighted his pipe, and smoak'd about a dozen whiffs.

After he had smoked about a dozen whiffs, he said,
'Trim!


----_Trim_ came in front of his master, and made his bow; --my uncle _Toby_ smoak'd on, and said no more.


said my uncle _Toby_----the corporal made his bow.


----My uncle _Toby_ proceeded no farther, but finished his pipe.


_Trim!_ said my uncle _Toby_, I have a project in my head, as it is a bad night, of wrapping myself up warm in my roquelaure, and paying a visit to this poor gentleman.

As it is a bad night, I am thinking of wrapping myself up in my cloak, and paying a visit to this poor gentleman.'


----Your honour's roquelaure, replied the corporal, has not once been had on, since the night before your honour received your wound, when we mounted guard in the trenches before the gate of St. _Nicolas_; ----and besides, it is so cold and rainy a night, that what with the roquelaure, and what with the weather, 'twill be enough to give your honour your death, and bring on your honour's torment in your groin.

'Your honour has not worn your cloak,' replied the corporal, 'since the night before your honour received your wound; and it is so cold and rainy a night, that even with the cloak, 'twill bring on your honour's torment in your groin.'


I fear so, replied my uncle _Toby_; but I am not at rest in my mind, _Trim_, since the account the landlord has given me.

'I fear so,' replied my uncle Toby; 'but I am not at rest in my mind, Trim, since the landlord's account.'


----I wish I had not known so much of this affair, --added my uncle _Toby_, --or that I had known more of it: ----How shall we manage it?


Leave it, an't please your honour, to me, quoth the corporal; ----I'll take my hat and stick and go to the house and reconnoitre, and act accordingly; and I will bring your honour a full account in an hour.

'Leave it to me, your honour,' quoth the corporal. 'I'll go to the house and reconnoitre, and act accordingly; and I will bring your honour a full account in an hour.'


----Thou shalt go, _Trim_, said my uncle _Toby_, and here's a shilling for thee to drink with his servant.

'Go, Trim,' said my uncle; 'here's a shilling for thee to drink with his servant.'


----I shall get it all out of him, said the corporal, shutting the door.

'I shall get it all out of him,' said the corporal, shutting the door.


My uncle _Toby_ filled his second pipe; and had it not been, that he now and then wandered from the point, with considering whether it was not full as well to have the curtain of the tenaille a straight line, as a crooked one, --he might be said to have thought of nothing else but poor _Le Fever_ and his boy the whole time he smoaked it.

My uncle Toby filled his second pipe; and apart from wondering whether a fortified outwork was as well in a straight line, as a crooked one, - he might be said to have thought of nothing but poor Le Fever and his boy the whole time he smoked it.


------How could you, Madam, be so inattentive in reading the last chapter?

How could you, Madam, be so inattentive?


I told you in it, _That my mother was not a papist_.

I told you in that last chapter, that my mother was not a papist.


--Madam, I beg leave to repeat it over again, that I told you as plain, at least, as words, by direct inference, could tell you such a thing.

- Madam, I repeat that I told you as plain as words could tell.


--No, Madam, --you have not miss'd a word.

- No, Madam, you have not missed a word.


--My pride, Madam, cannot allow you that refuge.


----Then, I declare, I know nothing at all about the matter.


--That, Madam, is the very fault I lay to your charge; and as a punishment for it, I do insist upon it, that you immediately turn back, that is, as soon as you get to the next full stop, and read the whole chapter over again.

- No, Madam. I insist that you immediately turn back, and read the whole chapter over again.


I have imposed this penance upon the lady, neither out of wantonness nor cruelty; but from the best of motives; and therefore shall make her no apology for it when she returns back: --'Tis to rebuke a vicious taste, which has crept into thousands besides herself, --of reading straight forwards, more in quest of the adventures, than of the deep erudition and knowledge which a book of this cast, if read over as it should be, would infallibly impart with them ----The mind should be accustomed to make wise reflections, and draw curious conclusions as it goes along; the habitude of which made _Pliny_ the younger affirm, "That he never read a book so bad, but he drew some profit from it."

I have imposed this penance upon the lady, not out of cruelty; but from the best of motives; and therefore make her no apology. 'Tis to rebuke a vicious taste which has crept into thousands besides herself, of reading more in quest of the adventures, than of the deep knowledge which a book of this type should impart. The reader should be accustomed to make wise reflections as he goes; a habit which made Pliny the younger affirm, 'That he never read a book so bad that he could not draw some profit from it.'


The stories of _Greece_ and _Rome_, run over without this turn and application, --do less service, I affirm it, than the history of _Parismus_ and _Parismenus_, or of the Seven Champions of _England_, read with it.


Have you read over again the chapter, Madam, as I desired you?

- Have you read over again the chapter, Madam, as I asked?


--You have: And did you not observe the passage, upon the second reading, which admits the inference?

You have: And did you not observe the passage? No?


Then, Madam, be pleased to ponder well the last line but one of the chapter, where I take upon me to say, "It was _necessary_ I should be born before I was christen'd."

Then, Madam, please ponder well the last line but one, where I say, 'It was necessary I should be born before I was christened.'


Had my mother, Madam, been a Papist, that consequence did not follow.

Had my mother, Madam, been a Papist, that consequence would not follow.


It is a terrible misfortune for this same book of mine, but more so to the Republick of letters; --so that my own is quite swallowed up in the consideration of it, --that this selfsame vile pruriency for fresh adventures in all things, has got so strongly into our habit and humour, --and so wholly intent are we upon satisfying the impatience of our concupiscence that way, --that nothing but the gross and more carnal parts of a composition will go down: --The subtle hints and sly communications of science fly off, like spirits upwards, ----the heavy moral escapes downwards; and both the one and the other are as much lost to the world, as if they were still left in the bottom of the ink-horn.

- For the Romish rituals direct the baptising of the child, if it is in danger, before it is born; and the Doctors of the Sorbonne have determined that baptism may be administered to the unborn child by injection, using une petite canulle - or in English, a squirt. ('Tis very strange that St. Thomas Aquinas should have rejected this possibility. - 'Infantes in maternis uteris existentes,' quoth he, 'baptizari possunt nullo modo.' - O Thomas! Thomas!)
It is a terrible misfortune for this book of mine - as for all literature - that the vile lust for fresh adventures has got so strongly into our habit. So intent are we upon satisfying the impatience of our desire that nothing but the gross and carnal parts of a book go in. Subtle hints fly off like spirits upwards; the heavy moral escapes downwards; and both are as much lost to the world, as if they were left in the bottom of the ink-well.


I wish the male-reader has not pass'd by many a one, as quaint and curious as this one, in which the female-reader has been detected.


I wish it may have its effects; --and that all good people, both male and female, from her example, may be taught to think as well as read.

 that from this reader's example, all good people may be taught to think as well as read.
If the reader is curious to see the question upon baptism by injection, as presented to the Doctors of the Sorbonne, with their response thereupon, it is as follows.
(Note: A translation from the French by the abridger follows each section below:)


MEMOIRE present Messieurs les Docteurs de SORBONNE[1.2]

MEMOIRE present Messieurs les Docteurs de SORBONNE .


_Un Chirurgien Accoucheur, represente Messieurs les Docteurs de SORBONNE, qu'il y a des cas, quoique trs rares, o une mere ne sauroit accoucher, & mme o l'enfant est tellement renferm dans le sein de sa mere, qu'il ne fait paritre aucune partie de son corps, ce qui seroit un cas, suivant les Rituels, de lui confrer, du moins sous condition, le baptme.

[Vide Deventer, Paris edit., 4to, 1734, p. 366.]
Un Chirurgien Accoucheur, represente Messieurs les Docteurs de SORBONNE, qu'il y a des cas, quoique trs rares, o une mere ne sauroit accoucher, & mme o l'enfant est tellement renferm dans le sein de sa mere, qu'il ne fait paritre aucune partie de son corps, ce qui seroit un cas, suivant les Rituels, de lui confrer, du moins sous condition, le baptme.


Le Chirurgien, qui consulte, prtend, par le moyen d'une _petite canulle_, de pouvoir baptiser immediatement l'enfant, sans faire aucun tort la mere.

Le Chirurgien, qui consulte, prtend, par le moyen d'une petite canulle, de pouvoir baptiser immediatement l'enfant, sans faire aucun tort la mere.


----Il demand si ce moyen, qu'il vient de proposer, est permis & lgitime, & s'il peut s'en servir dans les cas qu'il vient d'exposer._


[Footnote 1.1: The _Romish_ Rituals direct the baptizing of the child, in cases of danger, _before_ it is born; --but upon this proviso, That some part or other of the child's body be seen by the baptizer: ----But the Doctors of the _Sorbonne_, by a deliberation held amongst them, _April_ 10, 1733, --have enlarged the powers of the midwives, by determining, That though no part of the child's body should appear, ----that baptism shall, nevertheless, be administered to it by injection, --_par le moyen d'une petite canulle_, --Anglic _a squirt_.

(Translation: A baby may be baptised before it is born, in certain cases, by


----'Tis very strange that St. _Thomas Aquinas_, who had so good a mechanical head, both for tying and untying the knots of school-divinity, --should, after so much pains bestowed upon this, --give up the point at last, as a second _La chose impossible_, --"Infantes in maternis uteris existentes (quoth St. _Thomas!_) baptizari possunt _nullo modo_."


If the reader has the curiosity to see the question upon baptism _by injection_, as presented to the Doctors of the _Sorbonne_, with their consultation thereupon, it is as follows.]


[Footnote 1.2: Vide Deventer, Paris edit., 4to, 1734, p. 366.]


_Le Conseil estime, que la question propose souffre de grandes difficults.

RESPONSE
Le Conseil estime, que la question propose souffre de grandes difficults.


Les Thologiens posent d'un ct pour principe, que le baptme, qui est une naissance spirituelle, suppose une premiere naissance; il faut tre n dans le monde, pour renatre en _Jesus Christ_, comme ils l'enseignent.

Les Thologiens posent d'un ct pour principe, que le baptme, qui est une naissance spirituelle, suppose une premiere naissance; il faut tre n dans le monde, pour renatre en Jesus Christ, comme ils l'enseignent.


_S. Thomas, 3 part, qust. 88, artic. II_, suit cette doctrine comme une verit constante; l'on ne peut, dit ce S. Docteur, baptiser les enfans qui sont renferms dans le sein de leurs meres, & _S. Thomas_ est fond sur ce, que les enfans ne sont point ns, & ne peuvent tre compts parmi les autres hommes; d'o il conclud, qu'ils ne peuvent tre l'objet d'une action extrieure, pour reevoir par leur ministre, les sacremens ncessaires au salut:_ Pueri in maternis uteris existentes nondum prodierunt in lucem ut cum aliis hominibus vitam ducant; unde non possunt subjici actioni human, ut per eorum ministerium sacramenta recipiant ad salutem.

S. Thomas, 3 part, qust. 88, artic. II, suit cette doctrine comme une verit constante; l'on ne peut, dit ce S. Docteur, baptiser les enfans qui sont renferms dans le sein de leurs meres, & S. Thomas est fond sur ce, que les enfans ne sont point ns, & ne peuvent tre compts parmi les autres hommes; d'o il conclud, qu'ils ne peuvent tre l'objet d'une action extrieure, pour reevoir par leur ministre, les sacremens ncessaires au salut: Pueri in maternis uteris existentes nondum prodierunt in lucem ut cum aliis hominibus vitam ducant; unde non possunt subjici actioni human, ut per eorum ministerium sacramenta recipiant ad salutem.


_Les rituels ordonnent dans la pratique ce que les thologiens ont tabli sur les mmes matires, & ils deffendent tous d'une manire uniforme, de baptiser les enfans qui sont renferms dans le sein de leurs meres, s'ils ne font parotre quelque partie de leurs corps.


Le concours des thologiens, & des rituels, qui sont les rgles des diocses, paroit former une autorit qui termine la question presente; cependant le conseil de conscience considerant d'un ct, que le raisonnement des thologiens est uniquement fond sur une raison de convenance, & que la deffense des rituels suppose que l'on ne peut baptiser immediatement les enfans ainsi renferms dans le sein de leurs meres, ce qui est contre la supposition presente; & d'un autre ct, considerant que les mmes thologiens enseignent, que l'on peut risquer les sacremens que _Jesus Christ_ a tablis comme des moyens faciles, mais ncessaires pour sanctifier les hommes; & d'ailleurs estimant, que les enfans renferms dans le sein de leurs meres, pourroient tre capables de salut, parcequ'ils sont capables de damnation; --pour ces considerations, & en egard l'expos, suivant lequel on assure avoir trouv un moyen certain de baptiser ces enfans ainsi renferms, sans faire aucun tort la mere, le Conseil estime que l'on pourroit se servir du moyen propos, dans la confiance qu'il a, que Dieu n'a point laiss ces sortes d'enfans sans aucuns secours, & supposant, comme il est expos, que le moyen dont il s'agit est propre leur procurer le baptme; cependant comme il s'agiroit, en autorisant la pratique propose, de changer une regie universellement tablie, le Conseil croit que celui qui consulte doit s'addresser son evque, & qui il appartient de juger de l'utilit, & du danger du moyen propos, & comme, sous le bon plaisir de l'evque, le Conseil estime qu'il faudroit recourir au Pape, qui a le droit d'expliquer les rgles de l'eglise, & d'y droger dans le cas, ou la loi ne sauroit obliger, quelque sage & quelque utile que paroisse la manire de baptiser dont il s'agit, le Conseil ne pourroit l'approuver sans le concours de ces deux autorits.

Le concours des thologiens, & des rituels, qui sont les rgles des diocses, paroit former une autorit qui termine la question presente; cependant le conseil de conscience considerant d'un ct, que le raisonnement des thologiens est uniquement fond sur une raison de convenance, & que la deffense des rituels suppose que l'on ne peut baptiser immediatement les enfans ainsi renferms dans le sein de leurs meres, ce qui est contre la supposition presente; & d'un autre ct, considerant que les mmes thologiens enseignent, que l'on peut risquer les sacremens que Jesus Christ a tablis comme des moyens faciles, mais ncessaires pour sanctifier les hommes; & d'ailleurs estimant, que les enfans renferms dans le sein de leurs meres, pourroient tre capables de salut, parcequ'ils sont capables de damnation; -pour ces considerations, & en egard l'expos, suivant lequel on assure avoir trouv un moyen certain de baptiser ces enfans ainsi renferms, sans faire aucun tort la mere, le Conseil estime que l'on pourroit se servir du moyen propos, dans la confiance qu'il a, que Dieu n'a point laiss ces sortes d'enfans sans aucuns secours, & supposant, comme il est expos, que le moyen dont il s'agit est propre leur procurer le baptme; cependant comme il s'agiroit, en autorisant la pratique propose, de changer une regie universellement tablie, le Conseil croit que celui qui consulte doit s'addresser son evque, & qui il appartient de juger de l'utilit, & du danger du moyen propos, & comme, sous le bon plaisir de l'evque, le Conseil estime qu'il faudroit recourir au Pape, qui a le droit d'expliquer les rgles de l'eglise, & d'y droger dans le cas, ou la loi ne sauroit obliger, quelque sage & quelque utile que paroisse la manire de baptiser dont il s'agit, le Conseil ne pourroit l'approuver sans le concours de ces deux autorits.


On conseile au moins celui qui consulte, de s'addresser son evque, & de lui faire part de la presente dcision, afin que, si le prelat entre dans les raisons sur lesquelles les docteurs soussigns s'appuyent, il puisse tre autoris dans le cas de ncessit, ou il risqueroit trop d'attendre que la permission ft demande & accorde d'employer le moyen qu'il propose si avantageux au salut de l'enfant.
(Translation: No!


Au reste, le Conseil, en estimant que l'on pourroit s'en servir, croit cependant, que si les enfans dont il s'agit, venoient au monde, contre l'esperance de ceux qui se seroient servis du mme moyen, il seroit ncessaire de les baptiser sous condition; & en cela le Conseil se conforme tous les rituels, qui en autorisant le baptme d'un enfant qui fait parotre quelque partie de son corps, enjoignent nantmoins, & ordonnent de le baptiser sous condition, s'il vient heureusement au monde._

If a child is not born it cannot be baptised. Though if you really must, perhaps it can.)


Deliber en _Sorbonne_, le 10 _Avril_, 1733.


Mr. _Tristram Shandy's_ compliments to Messrs. _Le Moyne_, _De Romigny_, and _De Marcilly_; hopes they all rested well the night after so tiresome a consultation.

Mr. Tristram Shandy's compliments to Messrs. Le Moyne, De Romigny, and De Marcilly; he hopes they rested well the night after so tiresome a consultation.


--He begs to know, whether after the ceremony of marriage, and before that of consummation, the baptizing all the HOMUNCULI at once, slapdash, by _injection_, would not be a shorter and safer cut still; on condition, as above, That if the HOMUNCULI do well, and come safe into the world after this, that each and every of them shall be baptized again (_sous condition_) ----And provided, in the second place, That the thing can be done, which _Mr. Shandy_ apprehends it may, _par le moyen d'une petite canulle_, and _sans faire aucun tort au pere_.

He begs to know whether after the ceremony of marriage, and before that of consummation, the baptizing of all the Homunculi at once, slapdash, by injection, would not be a shorter and safer cut still; if they come safe into the world after this, they shall be baptized again.
- Provided that the thing can be done, which Mr. Shandy believes it may, par le moyen d'une petite canulle, and sans faire aucun tort au pere (by means of a tiny tube, and without doing any damage to the father.)


When Jos's fine carriage drove up to the inn door at Chatham, the first face which Amelia recognized was the friendly countenance of Captain Dobbin, who had been pacing the street for an hour past in expectation of his friends' arrival.

When Jos's carriage drove Amelia to the inn at Chatham, the first face she recognized was Captain Dobbin's. He had been pacing the street for an hour waiting for his friends' arrival.

Chapter 27: In Which Amelia Joins Her Regiment


The Captain, with shells on his frockcoat, and a crimson sash and sabre, presented a military appearance, which made Jos quite proud to be able to claim such an acquaintance, and the stout civilian hailed him with a cordiality very different from the reception which Jos vouchsafed to his friend in Brighton and Bond Street.

The Captain, with a crimson sash and sabre, had such a military appearance that Jos was quite proud to claim acquaintance with him, and he hailed him much more cordially than he had in London.


Along with the Captain was Ensign Stubble; who, as the barouche neared the inn, burst out with an exclamation of "By Jove!

With the Captain was Ensign Stubble; who, as the barouche approached, exclaimed "By Jove!


what a pretty girl"; highly applauding Osborne's choice.


Indeed, Amelia dressed in her wedding-pelisse and pink ribbons, with a flush in her face, occasioned by rapid travel through the open air, looked so fresh and pretty, as fully to justify the Ensign's compliment.

Indeed, Amelia, dressed in her wedding-pelisse, flushed with travel and the open air, looked so fresh and pretty as fully to justify the Ensign's compliment.


As he stepped forward to help the lady out of the carriage, Stubble saw what a pretty little hand she gave him, and what a sweet pretty little foot came tripping down the step.

As he helped her out of the carriage, Stubble saw what a pretty little hand she gave him, and what a sweet little foot came tripping down the step.


He blushed profusely, and made the very best bow of which he was capable; to which Amelia, seeing the number of the the regiment embroidered on the Ensign's cap, replied with a blushing smile, and a curtsey on her part; which finished the young Ensign on the spot.

He blushed profusely, and made his very best bow; to which Amelia replied with a smile and a curtsey which finished the young Ensign on the spot.


Dobbin took most kindly to Mr. Stubble from that day, and encouraged him to talk about Amelia in their private walks, and at each other's quarters.

Dobbin took most kindly to Mr. Stubble from that day, and encouraged him to talk about Amelia.


It became the fashion, indeed, among all the honest young fellows of the --th to adore and admire Mrs. Osborne.

It became the fashion, indeed, among all the honest young fellows of the Regiment to admire Mrs. Osborne.


Her simple artless behaviour, and modest kindness of demeanour, won all their unsophisticated hearts; all which simplicity and sweetness are quite impossible to describe in print.

Her artless behaviour and modest kindness won their unsophisticated hearts.


But who has not beheld these among women, and recognised the presence of all sorts of qualities in them, even though they say no more to you than that they are engaged to dance the next quadrille, or that it is very hot weather?


George, always the champion of his regiment, rose immensely in the opinion of the youth of the corps, by his gallantry in marrying this portionless young creature, and by his choice of such a pretty kind partner.

George, always the champion of his regiment, rose immensely in their opinion by his gallantry in marrying this portionless, pretty young creature.


In the sitting-room which was awaiting the travellers, Amelia, to her surprise, found a letter addressed to Mrs. Captain Osborne.

On her arrival, Amelia, to her surprise, found a letter addressed to her.


It was a triangular billet, on pink paper, and sealed with a dove and an olive branch, and a profusion of light blue sealing wax, and it was written in a very large, though undecided female hand.

It was on pink paper, and sealed with a dove and an olive branch, and a profusion of light blue sealing wax, and it was written in a very large female hand.


"It's Peggy O'Dowd's fist," said George, laughing.

"It's Peggy O'Dowd's writing," said George, laughing.


And in fact, it was a note from Mrs. Major O'Dowd, requesting the pleasure of Mrs. Osborne's company that very evening to a small friendly party.

And indeed it was a note from Mrs. Major O'Dowd, requesting the pleasure of Mrs. Osborne's company that evening at a small party.


"You will make acquaintance with the regiment there.


O'Dowd goes in command of the regiment, and Peggy goes in command."

"O'Dowd goes in command of the regiment, and Peggy just goes in command."


But they had not been for many minutes in the enjoyment of Mrs. O'Dowd's letter, when the door was flung open, and a stout jolly lady, in a riding-habit, followed by a couple of officers of Ours, entered the room.

But minutes later the door was flung open, and a stout jolly lady in a riding-habit, followed by a couple of officers, entered the room.


Present me, Garge, my dear fellow, to your lady.


Madam, I'm deloighted to see ye; and to present to you me husband, Meejor O'Dowd"; and with this, the jolly lady in the riding-habit grasped Amelia's hand very warmly, and the latter knew at once that the lady was before her whom her husband had so often laughed at.

Madam, I'm deloighted to see ye; and to present to you me husband, Meejor O'Dowd." The jolly lady grasped Amelia's hand very warmly.


"You've often heard of me from that husband of yours," said the lady, with great vivacity.

"You've often heard of me from that husband of yours," she said with vivacity.


"You've often heard of her," echoed her husband, the Major.


Amelia answered, smiling, "that she had."


"And small good he's told you of me," Mrs. O'Dowd replied; adding that "George was a wicked divvle."


"That I'll go bail for," said the Major, trying to look knowing, at which George laughed; and Mrs. O'Dowd, with a tap of her whip, told the Major to be quiet; and then requested to be presented in form to Mrs. Captain Osborne.


"This, my dear," said George with great gravity, "is my very good, kind, and excellent friend, Auralia Margaretta, otherwise called Peggy."

"This, my dear," said George, "is my very good excellent friend Auralia, otherwise called Peggy."


"Faith, you're right," interposed the Major.


"Otherwise called Peggy, lady of Major Michael O'Dowd, of our regiment, and daughter of Fitzjurld Ber'sford de Burgo Malony of Glenmalony, County Kildare."

"Lady of Major Michael O'Dowd, of our regiment, and daughter of Fitzjurld Ber'sford de Burgo Malony of Glenmalony, County Kildare."


"And Muryan Squeer, Doblin," said the lady with calm superiority.


"And Muryan Square, sure enough," the Major whispered.


"'Twas there ye coorted me, Meejor dear," the lady said; and the Major assented to this as to every other proposition which was made generally in company.

"'Twas there ye coorted me, Meejor dear," the lady said; and the Major assented to this as to every other thing she said.


Major O'Dowd, who had served his sovereign in every quarter of the world, and had paid for every step in his profession by some more than equivalent act of daring and gallantry, was the most modest, silent, sheep-faced and meek of little men, and as obedient to his wife as if he had been her tay-boy.

Major O'Dowd, who had served his sovereign gallantly in every quarter of the world, was the most modest and meek of little men, totally obedient to his wife.


At the mess-table he sat silently, and drank a great deal.


When full of liquor, he reeled silently home.


When he spoke, it was to agree with everybody on every conceivable point; and he passed through life in perfect ease and good-humour.

When he spoke, it was to agree with everybody; and he passed through life in perfect good-humour.


The hottest suns of India never heated his temper; and the Walcheren ague never shook it.


He walked up to a battery with just as much indifference as to a dinner-table; had dined on horse-flesh and turtle with equal relish and appetite; and had an old mother, Mrs. O'Dowd of O'Dowdstown indeed, whom he had never disobeyed but when he ran away and enlisted, and when he persisted in marrying that odious Peggy Malony.

He had an old mother whom he had never disobeyed except when he ran away and enlisted, and when he married that odious Peggy Malony.


Peggy was one of five sisters, and eleven children of the noble house of Glenmalony; but her husband, though her own cousin, was of the mother's side, and so had not the inestimable advantage of being allied to the Malonys, whom she believed to be the most famous family in the world.

Peggy was one of eleven children of the noble house of Glenmalony; her husband was her cousin on her mother's side.


Having tried nine seasons at Dublin and two at Bath and Cheltenham, and not finding a partner for life, Miss Malony ordered her cousin Mick to marry her when she was about thirty-three years of age; and the honest fellow obeying, carried her off to the West Indies, to preside over the ladies of the --th regiment, into which he had just exchanged.

Having tried nine seasons at Dublin and two at Bath without finding a husband, Miss Malony ordered her cousin Mick to marry her when she was about thirty-three; and the honest fellow obeyed.


Before Mrs. O'Dowd was half an hour in Amelia's (or indeed in anybody else's) company, this amiable lady told all her birth and pedigree to her new friend.

Before Mrs. O'Dowd was half an hour in Amelia's (or indeed in anybody's) company, this amiable lady told all her pedigree to her new friend.


"My dear," said she, good-naturedly, "it was my intention that Garge should be a brother of my own, and my sister Glorvina would have suited him entirely.

"My dear," said she, good-naturedly, "I meant for Garge to marry my sister Glorvina; she would have suited him entirely.


But as bygones are bygones, and he was engaged to yourself, why, I'm determined to take you as a sister instead, and to look upon you as such, and to love you as one of the family.

But as he was engaged to yourself, I'm determined to love you as a sister.


Faith, you've got such a nice good-natured face and way widg you, that I'm sure we'll agree; and that you'll be an addition to our family anyway."

Faith, I'm sure you'll be an addition to our family."


"'Deed and she will," said O'Dowd, with an approving air, and Amelia felt herself not a little amused and grateful to be thus suddenly introduced to so large a party of relations.

"'Deed and she will," said O'Dowd, and Amelia felt amused and grateful to be thus suddenly introduced to so many relations.


"We're all good fellows here," the Major's lady continued.

"We're all good fellows in this regiment," the Major's lady continued.


"There's not a regiment in the service where you'll find a more united society nor a more agreeable mess-room.


There's no quarrelling, bickering, slandthering, nor small talk amongst us.

"There's no quarrelling, bickering, nor slandthering amongst us.