Vanity Fair - Page 217/573

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. 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.

Along with the Captain was Ensign Stubble; who, as the barouche neared

the inn, burst out with an exclamation of "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. Dobbin liked him

for making it. 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. 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. 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. It became the

fashion, indeed, among all the honest young fellows of the --th to

adore and 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. 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.

In the sitting-room which was awaiting the travellers, Amelia, to her

surprise, found a letter addressed to Mrs. Captain Osborne. 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's Peggy O'Dowd's fist," said George, laughing. "I know it by the

kisses on the seal." 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. "You must go," George said. "You will make

acquaintance with the regiment there. O'Dowd goes in command of the

regiment, and Peggy goes in command."