Vanity Fair - Page 436/573

Rawdon Crawley, though the only book which he studied was the Racing

Calendar, and though his chief recollections of polite learning were

connected with the floggings which he received at Eton in his early

youth, had that decent and honest reverence for classical learning

which all English gentlemen feel, and was glad to think that his son

was to have a provision for life, perhaps, and a certain opportunity of

becoming a scholar. And although his boy was his chief solace and

companion, and endeared to him by a thousand small ties, about which he

did not care to speak to his wife, who had all along shown the utmost

indifference to their son, yet Rawdon agreed at once to part with him

and to give up his own greatest comfort and benefit for the sake of the

welfare of the little lad. He did not know how fond he was of the

child until it became necessary to let him go away. When he was gone,

he felt more sad and downcast than he cared to own--far sadder than the

boy himself, who was happy enough to enter a new career and find

companions of his own age. Becky burst out laughing once or twice when

the Colonel, in his clumsy, incoherent way, tried to express his

sentimental sorrows at the boy's departure. The poor fellow felt that

his dearest pleasure and closest friend was taken from him. He looked

often and wistfully at the little vacant bed in his dressing-room,

where the child used to sleep. He missed him sadly of mornings and

tried in vain to walk in the park without him. He did not know how

solitary he was until little Rawdon was gone. He liked the people who

were fond of him, and would go and sit for long hours with his

good-natured sister Lady Jane, and talk to her about the virtues, and

good looks, and hundred good qualities of the child.

Young Rawdon's aunt, we have said, was very fond of him, as was her

little girl, who wept copiously when the time for her cousin's

departure came. The elder Rawdon was thankful for the fondness of

mother and daughter. The very best and honestest feelings of the man

came out in these artless outpourings of paternal feeling in which he

indulged in their presence, and encouraged by their sympathy. He

secured not only Lady Jane's kindness, but her sincere regard, by the

feelings which he manifested, and which he could not show to his own

wife. The two kinswomen met as seldom as possible. Becky laughed

bitterly at Jane's feelings and softness; the other's kindly and gentle

nature could not but revolt at her sister's callous behaviour.

It estranged Rawdon from his wife more than he knew or acknowledged to

himself. She did not care for the estrangement. Indeed, she did not

miss him or anybody. She looked upon him as her errand-man and humble

slave. He might be ever so depressed or sulky, and she did not mark

his demeanour, or only treated it with a sneer. She was busy thinking

about her position, or her pleasures, or her advancement in society;

she ought to have held a great place in it, that is certain.