Vanity Fair - Page 295/573

The poor boy's letter did not say much. He had been too proud to

acknowledge the tenderness which his heart felt. He only said, that on

the eve of a great battle, he wished to bid his father farewell, and

solemnly to implore his good offices for the wife--it might be for the

child--whom he left behind him. He owned with contrition that his

irregularities and his extravagance had already wasted a large part of

his mother's little fortune. He thanked his father for his former

generous conduct; and he promised him that if he fell on the field or

survived it, he would act in a manner worthy of the name of George

Osborne.

His English habit, pride, awkwardness perhaps, had prevented him from

saying more. His father could not see the kiss George had placed on

the superscription of his letter. Mr. Osborne dropped it with the

bitterest, deadliest pang of balked affection and revenge. His son was

still beloved and unforgiven.

About two months afterwards, however, as the young ladies of the family

went to church with their father, they remarked how he took a different

seat from that which he usually occupied when he chose to attend divine

worship; and that from his cushion opposite, he looked up at the wall

over their heads. This caused the young women likewise to gaze in the

direction towards which their father's gloomy eyes pointed: and they

saw an elaborate monument upon the wall, where Britannia was

represented weeping over an urn, and a broken sword and a couchant lion

indicated that the piece of sculpture had been erected in honour of a

deceased warrior. The sculptors of those days had stocks of such

funereal emblems in hand; as you may see still on the walls of St.

Paul's, which are covered with hundreds of these braggart heathen

allegories. There was a constant demand for them during the first

fifteen years of the present century.

Under the memorial in question were emblazoned the well-known and

pompous Osborne arms; and the inscription said, that the monument was

"Sacred to the memory of George Osborne, Junior, Esq., late a Captain

in his Majesty's --th regiment of foot, who fell on the 18th of June,

1815, aged 28 years, while fighting for his king and country in the

glorious victory of Waterloo. Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori."

The sight of that stone agitated the nerves of the sisters so much,

that Miss Maria was compelled to leave the church. The congregation

made way respectfully for those sobbing girls clothed in deep black,

and pitied the stern old father seated opposite the memorial of the

dead soldier. "Will he forgive Mrs. George?" the girls said to

themselves as soon as their ebullition of grief was over. Much

conversation passed too among the acquaintances of the Osborne family,

who knew of the rupture between the son and father caused by the

former's marriage, as to the chance of a reconciliation with the young

widow. There were bets among the gentlemen both about Russell Square

and in the City.