Vanity Fair - Page 254/573

"Good noble brother!" Rebecca said, putting her handkerchief to her

eyes, and smelling the eau-de-cologne with which it was scented. "I

have done you injustice: you have got a heart. I thought you had not."

"O, upon my honour!" Jos said, making a motion as if he would lay his

hand upon the spot in question. "You do me injustice, indeed you

do--my dear Mrs. Crawley."

"I do, now your heart is true to your sister. But I remember two years

ago--when it was false to me!" Rebecca said, fixing her eyes upon him

for an instant, and then turning away into the window.

Jos blushed violently. That organ which he was accused by Rebecca of

not possessing began to thump tumultuously. He recalled the days when

he had fled from her, and the passion which had once inflamed him--the

days when he had driven her in his curricle: when she had knit the

green purse for him: when he had sate enraptured gazing at her white

arms and bright eyes.

"I know you think me ungrateful," Rebecca continued, coming out of the

window, and once more looking at him and addressing him in a low

tremulous voice. "Your coldness, your averted looks, your manner when

we have met of late--when I came in just now, all proved it to me. But

were there no reasons why I should avoid you? Let your own heart answer

that question. Do you think my husband was too much inclined to

welcome you? The only unkind words I have ever had from him (I will do

Captain Crawley that justice) have been about you--and most cruel,

cruel words they were."

"Good gracious! what have I done?" asked Jos in a flurry of pleasure

and perplexity; "what have I done--to--to--?"

"Is jealousy nothing?" said Rebecca. "He makes me miserable about you.

And whatever it might have been once--my heart is all his. I am

innocent now. Am I not, Mr. Sedley?"

All Jos's blood tingled with delight, as he surveyed this victim to his

attractions. A few adroit words, one or two knowing tender glances of

the eyes, and his heart was inflamed again and his doubts and

suspicions forgotten. From Solomon downwards, have not wiser men than

he been cajoled and befooled by women? "If the worst comes to the

worst," Becky thought, "my retreat is secure; and I have a right-hand

seat in the barouche."

There is no knowing into what declarations of love and ardour the

tumultuous passions of Mr. Joseph might have led him, if Isidor the

valet had not made his reappearance at this minute, and begun to busy

himself about the domestic affairs. Jos, who was just going to gasp

out an avowal, choked almost with the emotion that he was obliged to

restrain. Rebecca too bethought her that it was time she should go in

and comfort her dearest Amelia. "Au revoir," she said, kissing her

hand to Mr. Joseph, and tapped gently at the door of his sister's

apartment. As she entered and closed the door on herself, he sank down

in a chair, and gazed and sighed and puffed portentously. "That coat

is very tight for Milor," Isidor said, still having his eye on the

frogs; but his master heard him not: his thoughts were elsewhere: now

glowing, maddening, upon the contemplation of the enchanting Rebecca:

anon shrinking guiltily before the vision of the jealous Rawdon

Crawley, with his curling, fierce mustachios, and his terrible duelling

pistols loaded and cocked.