Vanity Fair - Page 24/573

As if bent upon advancing Rebecca's plans in every way--what must

Amelia do, but remind her brother of a promise made last Easter

holidays--"When I was a girl at school," said she, laughing--a promise

that he, Joseph, would take her to Vauxhall. "Now," she said, "that

Rebecca is with us, will be the very time."

"O, delightful!" said Rebecca, going to clap her hands; but she

recollected herself, and paused, like a modest creature, as she was.

"To-night is not the night," said Joe.

"Well, to-morrow."

"To-morrow your Papa and I dine out," said Mrs. Sedley.

"You don't suppose that I'm going, Mrs. Sed?" said her husband, "and

that a woman of your years and size is to catch cold, in such an

abominable damp place?"

"The children must have someone with them," cried Mrs. Sedley.

"Let Joe go," said-his father, laughing. "He's big enough." At which

speech even Mr. Sambo at the sideboard burst out laughing, and poor fat

Joe felt inclined to become a parricide almost.

"Undo his stays!" continued the pitiless old gentleman. "Fling some

water in his face, Miss Sharp, or carry him upstairs: the dear

creature's fainting. Poor victim! carry him up; he's as light as a

feather!"

"If I stand this, sir, I'm d------!" roared Joseph.

"Order Mr. Jos's elephant, Sambo!" cried the father. "Send to Exeter

'Change, Sambo"; but seeing Jos ready almost to cry with vexation, the

old joker stopped his laughter, and said, holding out his hand to his

son, "It's all fair on the Stock Exchange, Jos--and, Sambo, never mind

the elephant, but give me and Mr. Jos a glass of Champagne. Boney

himself hasn't got such in his cellar, my boy!"

A goblet of Champagne restored Joseph's equanimity, and before the

bottle was emptied, of which as an invalid he took two-thirds, he had

agreed to take the young ladies to Vauxhall.

"The girls must have a gentleman apiece," said the old gentleman. "Jos

will be sure to leave Emmy in the crowd, he will be so taken up with

Miss Sharp here. Send to 96, and ask George Osborne if he'll come."

At this, I don't know in the least for what reason, Mrs. Sedley looked

at her husband and laughed. Mr. Sedley's eyes twinkled in a manner

indescribably roguish, and he looked at Amelia; and Amelia, hanging

down her head, blushed as only young ladies of seventeen know how to

blush, and as Miss Rebecca Sharp never blushed in her life--at least

not since she was eight years old, and when she was caught stealing jam

out of a cupboard by her godmother. "Amelia had better write a note,"

said her father; "and let George Osborne see what a beautiful

handwriting we have brought back from Miss Pinkerton's. Do you

remember when you wrote to him to come on Twelfth-night, Emmy, and

spelt twelfth without the f?"