her to the ancient concerts by way of a treat, and to the oratorio, and to St. Paul's, to see the charity children, where, in such terror was she of her friends, she almost did not dare be affected by the hymn the children sang. Their house was comfortable; their papa's table rich and handsome; their society solemn and genteel; their self-respect prodigious; they had the best pew at the Foundling; all their habits were pompous and orderly, and all their amusements intolerably dull and decorous. After every one of her visits (and O, how glad she was when they were over!) Miss Osborne and Miss Maria Osborne, and Miss Wirt, the vestal governess, asked each other with increased wonder, What could George find in that creature?" How is this? some carping reader exclaims. How is it that Amelia, who had such a number of friends at school, and was so beloved there, comes out into the world, and is spurned by her discriminating sex? My dear Sir, there were no men at Miss Pinkerton's establishment except the old dancing-master; and you would not have had the girls fall out about him? When George, their handsome brother, ran off directly after breakfast, and dined from home half-a-dozen times a week; no wonder the neglected sisters felt a little vexation. When young Bullock (of the firm of Hulker, Bullock and Co., Bankers, Lombard-street), who had been making up to Miss Maria the last two seasons, actually asked Amelia to dance the cotillion, could you expect that the former young lady should be pleased? And yet she said she was, like an artless, forgiving creature. "I'm so delighted you like dear Amelia," she said quite eagerly to Mr. Bullock, after the dance. "She's engaged to my brother George; there's not much in her, but she's the best-natured and most unaffected young creature: at home we're all so fond of her." Dear girl! who can calculate the depth of affection expressed in that enthusiastic so? Miss Wirt and these two affectionate young women so earnestly and frequently impressed upon George Osborne's mind the enormity of the sacrifice he was making, and his romantic generosity in throwing himself away upon Amelia, that I'm not sure but that he really thought he was one of the most deserving characters in the British army, and gave himself up to be loved with a good deal of easy resignation. Somehow, although he left home every morning, as was stated, and dined abroad six days in the week, when his sisters believed the infatuated youth to be at Miss Sedley's apron-strings: he was not always with Amelia, while the world supposed him at her feet. Certain it is, that on more occasions than one, when Captain Dobbin called to look for his friend, Miss Osborne (who was very attentive to the captain, and anxious to hear his military stories, and to know about the health of his dear mamma), Miss Osborne would laughingly point to the opposite side of the square, and say, "Oh, you must go to the Sedleys' to ask for George; we never see him from morning till night." At which kind of speech the captain would laugh, in rather an absurd, constrained manner, and turn off the conversation, like a consummate man of the world, to some topic of general interest, such as the Opera, the Prince's last ball at Carlton House, or the weather-that blessing to society. 66 "What an innocent it is, that pet of yours," Miss Maria would then say to Miss Jane, upon the captain's departure. Did you see how he blushed at the mention of poor George on duty ?" "It's a pity Frederic Bullock hadn't some of his modesty, Maria," replies the elder sister, with a toss of her head. 66 Modesty!" Awkwardness, you mean, Jane. "I don't want Frederic to trample a hole in my muslin frock, as Captain Dobbin did in your's at Mrs. Perkins'." 46 "In your frock, he, he! How could he? Wasn't he dancing with Amelia ?" The fact is, when Captain Dobbin blushed so, and looked so awkward, he remembered a circumstance of which he did not think it was necessary to inform the young ladies, viz., that he had been calling at Mr. Sedley's house already, on the pretense of seeing George, of course, and George wasn't there, only poor little Amelia, with rather a sad, wistful face, seated near the drawingroom window, who, after some very trifling, stupid talk, ventured to ask, was there any truth in the report that the regiment was soon to be ordered abroad; and had Captain Dobbin seen Mr. Osborne that day? The regiment was not ordered abroad as yet; and Captain Dobbin had not seen George. "He was with his sisters, most likely," the captain said. "Should he go and fetch the truant?" So she gave him her hand kindly and gratefully and he crossed the square; and she waited and waited, but George never came. : "Poor little tender heart! and so it goes on hoping and beating, and longing and trusting. You see it's not much of a life to describe. There's not much of what you call incident in it. Only one feeling all dayWhen will he come? only one thought to sleep and wake upon. I believe George was playing billiards with Captain Cannon in Swallow-street at the time when Amelia was asking Captain Dobbin about him; for he was a jolly, sensible fellow, and excellent in all games of skill. Once, after three days of absence, Miss Amelia put on her bonnet, and actually invaded the Osborne house. 66 What! leave our brother to come to us?" said the young ladies. "Have you had a quarrel, Amelia? when the "Courier" newspaper had tens Do tell us!" No, indeed, there had been of thousands of subscribers; when one day no quarrel. "Who could quarrel with him," brought you a battle of Vittoria, another a says she, with her eyes filled with tears. burning of Moscow, or a newsman's horn She only came over to to see her dear blowing down Russell-square about dinnerfriends; they had not met for so long. And time announced such a fact as-"Battle of this day she was so perfectly stupid and Leipsic-six hundred thousand men engaged awkward, that the Miss Osbornes and their total defeat of the French-two hundred governess, who stared after her as she went thousand killed." Old Sedley once or twice sadly away, wondered more than ever what came home with a very grave face; and no George could see in poor little Amelia. wonder, when such news as this was agitating all the hearts and all the stocks of Europe. Of course they did. How was she to bare that timid little heart for the inspection of those young ladies with their bold, black Meanwhile matters went on in Russelleyes? It was best that it should shrink and square, Bloomsbury, just as if matters in hide itself. I know the Miss Osbornes were Europe were not in the least disorganized. excellent critics of a cashmere shawl, or a The retreat from Leipsic made no differpink satin slip; and when Miss Turner had ence in the number of meals Mr. Sambo hers dyed purple, and made into a spencer; took in the servant's hall; the allies poured and when Miss Pickford had her ermine into France, and the dinner-bell rang at five tippet twisted into a muff and trimmings, I o'clock just as usual. I don't think poor warrant you the changes did not escape the Amelia cared any thing about Brienne and two intelligent young women before men- Montmirail, or was fairly interested in the tioned. But there are things, look you, of war until the abdication of the emperor; a finer texture than fur or satin, and all Sol- when she clapped her hands and said prayomon's glories, and all the wardrobe of the ers-oh, how grateful! and flung herself Queen of Sheba ;-things, whereof the into George Osborne's arms with all her beauty escapes the eyes of many connois- soul, to the astonishment of every body who And there are sweet, modest little witnessed that ebullition of sentiment. The souls on which you light, fragrant and bloom-fact is, peace was declared, Europe was ing tenderly in quiet, shady places; and there are garden-ornaments, as big as brass warming-pans, that are fit to stare the sun itself out of countenance. Miss Sedley was not of the sun-flower sort; and I say it is out of the rules of all proportion to draw a violet of the size of a double dahlia. seurs. No, indeed; the life of a good young girl who is in the paternal nest as yet, can't have many of those thrilling incidents to which the heroine of romance commonly lays claim. Snares or shot may take off the old birds foraging without-hawks may be abroad, from which they escape or by whom they suffer; but the young ones in the nest have a pretty comfortable, unromantic sort of existence in the down and the straw, till it comes to their turn, too, to get on the wing. While Becky Sharp was on her own wing in the country, hopping on all sorts of twigs, and amid a multiplicity of traps, and pecking up her food quite harmless and successful, Amelia lay snug in her home of Russellsquare; if she went into the world, it was under the guidance of the elders; nor did it seem that any evil could befall her or that opulent, cheery, comfortable home in which she was affectionately sheltered. Mamma had her morning duties, and her daily drive, and that delightful round of visits and shopping which forms the amusement, or the profession as you may call it, of the rich London lady. Papa conducted his mysterious operations in the city-a stirring place in those days, when war was raging all over Europe, and empires were being staked; going to be at rest; the Corsican was overthrown, and Lieutenant Osborne's regiment would not be ordered on service. That was the way in which Miss Amelia reasoned. The fate of Europe was Lieutenant George Osborne to her. His dangers being over, she sang to Heaven. He was her Europe: her emperor: her allied monarchs and august prince regent. He was her sun and moon; and I believe she thought the grand illumination and ball at the Mansion House, given to the sovereigns, were especially in honor of George Osborne. We have talked of shift, self, and poverty, as those dismal instructors under whom poor Miss Becky Sharp got her education. Now, love was Miss Amelia Sedley's last tutoress, and it was amazing what progress our young lady made under that popular teacher. In the course of fifteen or eighteen months' daily and constant attention to this eminent finishing governess, what a deal of secrets Amelia learned, which Miss Wirt and the black-eyed young ladies over the way, which old Miss Pinkerton of Chiswick herself, had no cognizance of! As, indeed, how should any of those prim and reputable virgins? With Misses P. and W. the tender passion is out of the question: I would not dare to breathe such an idea regarding them. Miss Maria Osborne, it is true, was "attached" to Mr. Frederic Augustus Bullock, of the firm of Hulker, Bullock, and Bullock; but hers was a most respectable attachment, and she would have taken Bullock senior, just the same, her mind being fixed—as that of a well-bred young woman should be-ion, Miss Amelia neglected her tweve dear upon a house in Park-lane, a country house friends at Chiswick most cruelly, as such at Wimbledon, a handsome chariot, and two selfish people commonly will do. She had prodigious tall horses and footmen, and a but this subject, of course, to think about; fourth of the annual profits of the eminent and Miss Saltire was too cold for a confifirm of Hulker & Bullock, all of which ad- dante, and she couldn't bring her mind to vantages were represented in the person of tell Miss Swartz, the woolly-haired young Frederic Augustus. Had orange blossoms heiress from St. Kitt's. She had little been invented then (those touching emblems Laura Martin home for the holidays; and of female purity imported by us from France, my belief is, she made a confidante of her, where people's daughters are universally and promised that Laura should come and sold in marriage), Miss Maria, I say, would live with her when she was married, and have assumed the spotless wreath, and step-gave Laura a great deal of information reped into the traveling carriage by the side garding the passion of love, which must have of gouty, old, bald-headed, bottle-nosed Bul- been singularly useful and novel to that little lock senior; and devoted her beautiful ex-person. Alas, alas! I fear she had not a istence to his happiness with perfect modesty well-regulated mind. -only the old gentleman was married al- What were her parents doing, not to keep ready; so she bestowed her young affections this little heart from beating so fast? on the junior partner. Sweet, blooming, orange flowers! The other day I saw Miss Trotter (that was), arrayed in them, trip into the traveling carriage at St. George's, Hanover-square, and Lord Methuselah hobbled in after. With what an engaging modesty she pulled down the blinds of the chariot the dear innocent! There were half the carriages of Vanity Fair at the wedding. Old Sedley did not seem much to notice matters. He was graver of late, and his city affairs absorbed him. Mrs. Sedley was of so easy and uninquisitive a nature, that she wasn't even jealous. Mr. Jos was away, being besieged by an Irish widow at Cheltenham. Amelia had the house to herself ah! too much to herself sometimes-not that she ever doubted; for, to be sure, George must be at the Horse-Guards; and he can't always get leave from Chatham; and he must see his friends and sisters, and mingle in society when in town (he such an ornament to every society!); and when he is with the regiment, he is too tired to write long letters. I know where she kept that packet she had-and can steal in and out of her chamber like Iachimo-like Iachimo? No-that is a bad part. I will only act Moonshine, and peep harmless into the bed where faith and beauty and innocence lie dreaming. This was not the sort of love that finished Amelia's education; and in the course of a year turned a good young girl into a good young woman-to be a good wife presently, when the happy time should come. This young person (perhaps it was very imprudent in her parents to encourage her, and abet her in such idolatry and silly romantic ideas) loved, with all her heart, the young officer in his Majesty's service with whom we have made a brief acquaintance. She thought about him the very first moment on waking; and his was the very last name But if Osborne's were short and soldiermentioned in her prayers. She never had like letters, it must be confessed, that were seen a man so beautiful or so clever: such a Miss Sedley's letters to Mr. Osborne to be figure on horseback: such a dancer: such a published, we should have to extend this novel hero in general. Talk of the prince's bow! to such a multiplicity of volumes as not the what was it to George's? She had seen most sentimental reader could support; that Mr. Brummell, whom every body praised she not only filled sheets of large paper, but so. Compare such a person as that to her crossed them with the most astonishing George! Not among all the beaux at the perverseness; that she wrote whole pages Opera (and there were beaux in those days out of poetry-books without the least pity; with actual opera hats) was there any one that she underlined words and passages with to equal him. He was only good enough to quite a frantic emphasis; and, in fine, gave be a fairy prince; and oh, what magnanimity the usual tokens of her condition. to stoop to such a humble Cinderella! Miss wasn't a heroine. Her letters were full of Pinkerton would have tried to check this repetition. She wrote rather doubtful gramblind devotion very likely, had she been mar sometimes, and in her verses took all Amelia's confidante; but not with much sorts of liberties with the meter. But oh, success, depend upon it. It is in the nature and instinct of some women. Some are made to scheme, and some to love; and I wish any respected bachelor that reads this may take the sort that best likes him. While under this overpowering impress She mesdames, if you are not allowed to touch the heart sometimes in spite of syntax, and are not to be loved until you all know the difference between trimeter and tetrameter, may all poetry go to the deuce, and every schoolmaster perish miserably! CHAPTER XIII. SENTIMENTAL AND OTHERWISE. I FEAR the gentleman to whom Miss Amelia's letters were addressed was rather an obdurate critic. Such a number of notes followed Lieutenant Osborne about the country, that he became almost ashamed of the jokes of his mess-room companions regarding them, and ordered his servant never to deliver them, except at his private apart ment. He was seen lighting his cigar with one, to the horror of Captain Dobbin, who, it is my belief, would have given a bank-note for the document. For some time George strove to keep the liaison a secret. There was a woman in the case, that he admitted. "And not the first either," said Ensign Spooney to Ensign Stubbles. "That Osborne's a devil of a fellow. There was a judge's daughter at Demerara went almost mad about him; then there was that beautiful quadroon girl, Miss Pye, at St. Vincent's, you know; and since he's been home, they say he's a regular Don Giovanni, by Jove." Stubbles and Spooney thought that to be a "regular Don Giovanni by Jove" was one of the finest qualities a man could possess; and Osborne's reputation was prodigious among the young men of the regiment. He was famous in field-sports, famous at a song, famous on parade; free with his money, which was bountifully supplied by his father. His coats were better made than any man's in the regiment, and he had more of them. He was adored by the men. He could drink more than any officer of the whole mess, including old Heavytop, the colonel. He could spar better than Knuckles, the private (who would have been a corporal but for his drunkenness, and who had been in the prizering); and was the best batter and bowler, out and out, of the regimental club. He rode his own horse, Greased Lightning, and won the garrison cup, at Quebec races. There were other people besides Amelia who worshiped him. Stubbles and Spooney thought him a sort of Apollo; Dobbin took him to be an Admirable Crichton; and Mrs. Major O'Dowd acknowledged he was an elegant young fellow, and put her in mind of Fitzjurld Fogarty, Lord Castle-fogarty's second son. none of which conjectures would Osborne throw the least light, leaving his young admirers and friends to invent and arrange their whole history. And the real state of the case would never have been known at all in the regiment but for Captain Dobbin's indiscretion. The captain was eating his breakfast one day in the mess-room, while Cackle, the assistant-surgeon, and the two above-named worthies were speculating upon Osborne's intrigue-Stubbles holding out that the lady was a duchess about Queen Charlotte's court, and Cackle vowing that she was an opera-singer of the worst reputation. At this idea Dobbin became so moved, that though his mouth was full of egg and bread-andbutter at the time, and though he ought not to have spoken at all, yet he couldn't help blurting out, "Cackle, you're a thtupid fool. You're alwayth talking nonthenth and theandal. Othborne ith not going to run off with a duchess or ruin a milliner. Miss Sedley is one of the most charming young women that ever lived. He's been engaged to her ever so long; and the man who calls her names had better not do so in my hearing." With which, turning exceedingly red, Dobbin ceased speaking, and almost choked himself with a cup of tea. The story was over the regiment in half-an-hour; and that very evening Mrs. Major O'Dowd wrote off to her sister Glorvina at O'Dowdston not to hurry from Dublin-young Osborne being prematurely engaged already. She complimented the lieutenant in an appropriate speech over a glass of whiskytoddy that evening, and he went home perfectly furious to quarrel with Dobbin, (who had declined Mrs. Major O'Dowd's party, and sat in his own room playing the flute, and, I believe, writing poetry in a very melancholy manner)—to quarrel with Dobbin for betraying his secret. 66 "Who the deuce asked you to talk about my affairs," Osborne shouted indignantly. Why the devil is all the regiment to know that I am going to be married? Why is that tattling old harridan, Peggy O'Dowd, to make free with my name over her d-d supper-table, and advertise my engagement over the three kingdoms? After all, what right have you to say I am engaged, or to meddle in my business at all, Dobbin ?" "It seems to me," Captain Dobbin began. "Seems be hanged, Dobbin," his junior interrupted him. "I am under obligations to you, I know it, a d-d deal too well, too; but I won't be always sermonized by you because you're five years my senior. I'm hanged if I'll stand your airs of superiority and infernal pity and patronage. Pity and patronage! I should like to know in what Well, Stubbles and Spooney and the rest indulged in most romantic conjectures regarding this female correspondence of Osborne's opining that it was a duchess in London, who was in love with him-or that it was a general's daughter, who was engaged to somebody else, and madly attached to him-or that it was a member of parliament's lady, who proposed four horses and an elopement-or that it was some other I'm your inferior?" victim of a passion delightfully exciting, romantic, and disgraceful to all parties, on terposed. "Are you engaged?" Captain Dobbin in |