Vanity Fair - Page 285/573

"I beg your pardon, sir," says Bowls, advancing with a profound bow;

"what 'otel, sir, shall Thomas fetch the luggage from?"

"O, dam," said young James, starting up, as if in some alarm, "I'll go."

"What!" said Miss Crawley.

"The Tom Cribb's Arms," said James, blushing deeply.

Miss Crawley burst out laughing at this title. Mr. Bowls gave one

abrupt guffaw, as a confidential servant of the family, but choked the

rest of the volley; the diplomatist only smiled.

"I--I didn't know any better," said James, looking down. "I've never

been here before; it was the coachman told me." The young story-teller!

The fact is, that on the Southampton coach, the day previous,

James Crawley had met the Tutbury Pet, who was coming to Brighton to

make a match with the Rottingdean Fibber; and enchanted by the Pet's

conversation, had passed the evening in company with that scientific

man and his friends, at the inn in question.

"I--I'd best go and settle the score," James continued. "Couldn't think

of asking you, Ma'am," he added, generously.

This delicacy made his aunt laugh the more.

"Go and settle the bill, Bowls," she said, with a wave of her hand,

"and bring it to me."

Poor lady, she did not know what she had done! "There--there's a

little dawg," said James, looking frightfully guilty. "I'd best go for

him. He bites footmen's calves."

All the party cried out with laughing at this description; even Briggs

and Lady Jane, who was sitting mute during the interview between Miss

Crawley and her nephew: and Bowls, without a word, quitted the room.

Still, by way of punishing her elder nephew, Miss Crawley persisted in

being gracious to the young Oxonian. There were no limits to her

kindness or her compliments when they once began. She told Pitt he

might come to dinner, and insisted that James should accompany her in

her drive, and paraded him solemnly up and down the cliff, on the back

seat of the barouche. During all this excursion, she condescended to

say civil things to him: she quoted Italian and French poetry to the

poor bewildered lad, and persisted that he was a fine scholar, and was

perfectly sure he would gain a gold medal, and be a Senior Wrangler.

"Haw, haw," laughed James, encouraged by these compliments; "Senior

Wrangler, indeed; that's at the other shop."

"What is the other shop, my dear child?" said the lady.

"Senior Wranglers at Cambridge, not Oxford," said the scholar, with a

knowing air; and would probably have been more confidential, but that

suddenly there appeared on the cliff in a tax-cart, drawn by a bang-up

pony, dressed in white flannel coats, with mother-of-pearl buttons, his

friends the Tutbury Pet and the Rottingdean Fibber, with three other

gentlemen of their acquaintance, who all saluted poor James there in

the carriage as he sate. This incident damped the ingenuous youth's

spirits, and no word of yea or nay could he be induced to utter during

the rest of the drive.