Twice or thrice in the year, according to her promise, she wrote him
letters to Madras, letters all about little Georgy. How he treasured
these papers! Whenever Amelia wrote he answered, and not until then.
But he sent over endless remembrances of himself to his godson and to
her. He ordered and sent a box of scarfs and a grand ivory set of
chess-men from China. The pawns were little green and white men, with
real swords and shields; the knights were on horseback, the castles
were on the backs of elephants. "Mrs. Mango's own set at the Pineries
was not so fine," Mr. Pestler remarked. These chess-men were the
delight of Georgy's life, who printed his first letter in
acknowledgement of this gift of his godpapa. He sent over preserves
and pickles, which latter the young gentleman tried surreptitiously in
the sideboard and half-killed himself with eating. He thought it was a
judgement upon him for stealing, they were so hot. Emmy wrote a
comical little account of this mishap to the Major: it pleased him to
think that her spirits were rallying and that she could be merry
sometimes now. He sent over a pair of shawls, a white one for her and
a black one with palm-leaves for her mother, and a pair of red scarfs,
as winter wrappers, for old Mr. Sedley and George. The shawls were
worth fifty guineas apiece at the very least, as Mrs. Sedley knew. She
wore hers in state at church at Brompton, and was congratulated by her
female friends upon the splendid acquisition. Emmy's, too, became
prettily her modest black gown. "What a pity it is she won't think of
him!" Mrs. Sedley remarked to Mrs. Clapp and to all her friends of
Brompton. "Jos never sent us such presents, I am sure, and grudges us
everything. It is evident that the Major is over head and ears in love
with her; and yet, whenever I so much as hint it, she turns red and
begins to cry and goes and sits upstairs with her miniature. I'm sick
of that miniature. I wish we had never seen those odious purse-proud
Osbornes."
Amidst such humble scenes and associates George's early youth was
passed, and the boy grew up delicate, sensitive, imperious,
woman-bred--domineering the gentle mother whom he loved with passionate
affection. He ruled all the rest of the little world round about him.
As he grew, the elders were amazed at his haughty manner and his
constant likeness to his father. He asked questions about everything,
as inquiring youth will do. The profundity of his remarks and
interrogatories astonished his old grandfather, who perfectly bored the
club at the tavern with stories about the little lad's learning and
genius. He suffered his grandmother with a good-humoured
indifference. The small circle round about him believed that the equal
of the boy did not exist upon the earth. Georgy inherited his father's
pride, and perhaps thought they were not wrong.