Vanity Fair - Page 178/573

"I wish you could see some of Rawdon's friends who are always about our

door," Rebecca said, laughing. "Did you ever see a dun, my dear; or a

bailiff and his man? Two of the abominable wretches watched all last

week at the greengrocer's opposite, and we could not get away until

Sunday. If Aunty does not relent, what shall we do?"

Rawdon, with roars of laughter, related a dozen amusing anecdotes of

his duns, and Rebecca's adroit treatment of them. He vowed with a

great oath that there was no woman in Europe who could talk a creditor

over as she could. Almost immediately after their marriage, her

practice had begun, and her husband found the immense value of such a

wife. They had credit in plenty, but they had bills also in abundance,

and laboured under a scarcity of ready money. Did these

debt-difficulties affect Rawdon's good spirits? No. Everybody in

Vanity Fair must have remarked how well those live who are comfortably

and thoroughly in debt: how they deny themselves nothing; how jolly and

easy they are in their minds. Rawdon and his wife had the very best

apartments at the inn at Brighton; the landlord, as he brought in the

first dish, bowed before them as to his greatest customers: and Rawdon

abused the dinners and wine with an audacity which no grandee in the

land could surpass. Long custom, a manly appearance, faultless boots

and clothes, and a happy fierceness of manner, will often help a man as

much as a great balance at the banker's.

The two wedding parties met constantly in each other's apartments.

After two or three nights the gentlemen of an evening had a little

piquet, as their wives sate and chatted apart. This pastime, and the

arrival of Jos Sedley, who made his appearance in his grand open

carriage, and who played a few games at billiards with Captain Crawley,

replenished Rawdon's purse somewhat, and gave him the benefit of that

ready money for which the greatest spirits are sometimes at a

stand-still.

So the three gentlemen walked down to see the Lightning coach come in.

Punctual to the minute, the coach crowded inside and out, the guard

blowing his accustomed tune on the horn--the Lightning came tearing

down the street, and pulled up at the coach-office.

"Hullo! there's old Dobbin," George cried, quite delighted to see his

old friend perched on the roof; and whose promised visit to Brighton

had been delayed until now. "How are you, old fellow? Glad you're come

down. Emmy'll be delighted to see you," Osborne said, shaking his

comrade warmly by the hand as soon as his descent from the vehicle was

effected--and then he added, in a lower and agitated voice, "What's the

news? Have you been in Russell Square? What does the governor say?

Tell me everything."