Vanity Fair - Page 108/573

When Miss Sharp was agitated, and alluded to her maternal relatives,

she spoke with ever so slight a foreign accent, which gave a great

charm to her clear ringing voice. "No," she continued, kindling as she

spoke to the Captain; "I can endure poverty, but not shame--neglect,

but not insult; and insult from--from you."

Her feelings gave way, and she burst into tears.

"Hang it, Miss Sharp--Rebecca--by Jove--upon my soul, I wouldn't for a

thousand pounds. Stop, Rebecca!"

She was gone. She drove out with Miss Crawley that day. It was before

the latter's illness. At dinner she was unusually brilliant and

lively; but she would take no notice of the hints, or the nods, or the

clumsy expostulations of the humiliated, infatuated guardsman.

Skirmishes of this sort passed perpetually during the little

campaign--tedious to relate, and similar in result. The Crawley heavy

cavalry was maddened by defeat, and routed every day.

If the Baronet of Queen's Crawley had not had the fear of losing his

sister's legacy before his eyes, he never would have permitted his dear

girls to lose the educational blessings which their invaluable

governess was conferring upon them. The old house at home seemed a

desert without her, so useful and pleasant had Rebecca made herself

there. Sir Pitt's letters were not copied and corrected; his books not

made up; his household business and manifold schemes neglected, now

that his little secretary was away. And it was easy to see how

necessary such an amanuensis was to him, by the tenor and spelling of

the numerous letters which he sent to her, entreating her and

commanding her to return. Almost every day brought a frank from the

Baronet, enclosing the most urgent prayers to Becky for her return, or

conveying pathetic statements to Miss Crawley, regarding the neglected

state of his daughters' education; of which documents Miss Crawley took

very little heed.

Miss Briggs was not formally dismissed, but her place as companion was

a sinecure and a derision; and her company was the fat spaniel in the

drawing-room, or occasionally the discontented Firkin in the

housekeeper's closet. Nor though the old lady would by no means hear

of Rebecca's departure, was the latter regularly installed in office in

Park Lane. Like many wealthy people, it was Miss Crawley's habit to

accept as much service as she could get from her inferiors; and

good-naturedly to take leave of them when she no longer found them

useful. Gratitude among certain rich folks is scarcely natural or to

be thought of. They take needy people's services as their due. Nor

have you, O poor parasite and humble hanger-on, much reason to

complain! Your friendship for Dives is about as sincere as the return

which it usually gets. It is money you love, and not the man; and were

Croesus and his footman to change places you know, you poor rogue, who

would have the benefit of your allegiance.