Vanity Fair - Page 118/573

"It is the lady on the ground, and not the gentleman," Miss Crawley

said, with a look and voice of great scorn. "They told me that YOU were

on your knees, Sir Pitt: do kneel once more, and let me see this pretty

couple!"

"I have thanked Sir Pitt Crawley, Ma'am," Rebecca said, rising, "and

have told him that--that I never can become Lady Crawley."

"Refused him!" Miss Crawley said, more bewildered than ever. Briggs

and Firkin at the door opened the eyes of astonishment and the lips of

wonder.

"Yes--refused," Rebecca continued, with a sad, tearful voice.

"And am I to credit my ears that you absolutely proposed to her, Sir

Pitt?" the old lady asked.

"Ees," said the Baronet, "I did."

"And she refused you as she says?"

"Ees," Sir Pitt said, his features on a broad grin.

"It does not seem to break your heart at any rate," Miss Crawley

remarked.

"Nawt a bit," answered Sir Pitt, with a coolness and good-humour which

set Miss Crawley almost mad with bewilderment. That an old gentleman

of station should fall on his knees to a penniless governess, and burst

out laughing because she refused to marry him--that a penniless

governess should refuse a Baronet with four thousand a year--these were

mysteries which Miss Crawley could never comprehend. It surpassed any

complications of intrigue in her favourite Pigault le Brun.

"I'm glad you think it good sport, brother," she continued, groping

wildly through this amazement.

"Vamous," said Sir Pitt. "Who'd ha' thought it! what a sly little

devil! what a little fox it waws!" he muttered to himself, chuckling

with pleasure.

"Who'd have thought what?" cries Miss Crawley, stamping with her foot.

"Pray, Miss Sharp, are you waiting for the Prince Regent's divorce,

that you don't think our family good enough for you?"

"My attitude," Rebecca said, "when you came in, ma'am, did not look as

if I despised such an honour as this good--this noble man has deigned

to offer me. Do you think I have no heart? Have you all loved me, and

been so kind to the poor orphan--deserted--girl, and am I to feel

nothing? O my friends! O my benefactors! may not my love, my life, my

duty, try to repay the confidence you have shown me? Do you grudge me

even gratitude, Miss Crawley? It is too much--my heart is too full";

and she sank down in a chair so pathetically, that most of the audience

present were perfectly melted with her sadness.

"Whether you marry me or not, you're a good little girl, Becky, and I'm

your vriend, mind," said Sir Pitt, and putting on his crape-bound hat,

he walked away--greatly to Rebecca's relief; for it was evident that

her secret was unrevealed to Miss Crawley, and she had the advantage of

a brief reprieve.