Vanity Fair - Page 32/573

"What a beautiful, BYOO-OOTIFUL song that was you sang last night, dear

Miss Sharp," said the Collector. "It made me cry almost; 'pon my

honour it did."

"Because you have a kind heart, Mr. Joseph; all the Sedleys have, I

think."

"It kept me awake last night, and I was trying to hum it this morning,

in bed; I was, upon my honour. Gollop, my doctor, came in at eleven

(for I'm a sad invalid, you know, and see Gollop every day), and, 'gad!

there I was, singing away like--a robin."

"O you droll creature! Do let me hear you sing it."

"Me? No, you, Miss Sharp; my dear Miss Sharp, do sing it." "Not now,

Mr. Sedley," said Rebecca, with a sigh. "My spirits are not equal to

it; besides, I must finish the purse. Will you help me, Mr. Sedley?"

And before he had time to ask how, Mr. Joseph Sedley, of the East India

Company's service, was actually seated tete-a-tete with a young lady,

looking at her with a most killing expression; his arms stretched out

before her in an imploring attitude, and his hands bound in a web of

green silk, which she was unwinding.

In this romantic position Osborne and Amelia found the interesting

pair, when they entered to announce that tiffin was ready. The skein

of silk was just wound round the card; but Mr. Jos had never spoken.

"I am sure he will to-night, dear," Amelia said, as she pressed

Rebecca's hand; and Sedley, too, had communed with his soul, and said

to himself, "'Gad, I'll pop the question at Vauxhall."