Vanity Fair - Page 45/573

He burst out laughing at himself; for the truth is, he could sing no

better than an owl.

It is to be understood, as a matter of course, that our young people,

being in parties of two and two, made the most solemn promises to keep

together during the evening, and separated in ten minutes afterwards.

Parties at Vauxhall always did separate, but 'twas only to meet again

at supper-time, when they could talk of their mutual adventures in the

interval.

What were the adventures of Mr. Osborne and Miss Amelia? That is a

secret. But be sure of this--they were perfectly happy, and correct in

their behaviour; and as they had been in the habit of being together

any time these fifteen years, their tete-a-tete offered no particular

novelty.

But when Miss Rebecca Sharp and her stout companion lost themselves in

a solitary walk, in which there were not above five score more of

couples similarly straying, they both felt that the situation was

extremely tender and critical, and now or never was the moment Miss

Sharp thought, to provoke that declaration which was trembling on the

timid lips of Mr. Sedley. They had previously been to the panorama of

Moscow, where a rude fellow, treading on Miss Sharp's foot, caused her

to fall back with a little shriek into the arms of Mr. Sedley, and this

little incident increased the tenderness and confidence of that

gentleman to such a degree, that he told her several of his favourite

Indian stories over again for, at least, the sixth time.

"How I should like to see India!" said Rebecca.

"SHOULD you?" said Joseph, with a most killing tenderness; and was no

doubt about to follow up this artful interrogatory by a question still

more tender (for he puffed and panted a great deal, and Rebecca's hand,

which was placed near his heart, could count the feverish pulsations of

that organ), when, oh, provoking! the bell rang for the fireworks, and,

a great scuffling and running taking place, these interesting lovers

were obliged to follow in the stream of people.

Captain Dobbin had some thoughts of joining the party at supper: as, in

truth, he found the Vauxhall amusements not particularly lively--but he

paraded twice before the box where the now united couples were met, and

nobody took any notice of him. Covers were laid for four. The mated

pairs were prattling away quite happily, and Dobbin knew he was as

clean forgotten as if he had never existed in this world.

"I should only be de trop," said the Captain, looking at them rather

wistfully. "I'd best go and talk to the hermit,"--and so he strolled

off out of the hum of men, and noise, and clatter of the banquet, into

the dark walk, at the end of which lived that well-known pasteboard

Solitary. It wasn't very good fun for Dobbin--and, indeed, to be alone

at Vauxhall, I have found, from my own experience, to be one of the

most dismal sports ever entered into by a bachelor.