She dressed herself and went away unmolested this time, but alone. It
was four o'clock. She went swiftly down the streets (she had no money
to pay for a carriage), and never stopped until she came to Sir Pitt
Crawley's door, in Great Gaunt Street. Where was Lady Jane Crawley?
She was at church. Becky was not sorry. Sir Pitt was in his study, and
had given orders not to be disturbed--she must see him--she slipped by
the sentinel in livery at once, and was in Sir Pitt's room before the
astonished Baronet had even laid down the paper.
He turned red and started back from her with a look of great alarm and
horror.
"Do not look so," she said. "I am not guilty, Pitt, dear Pitt; you
were my friend once. Before God, I am not guilty. I seem so.
Everything is against me. And oh! at such a moment! just when all my
hopes were about to be realized: just when happiness was in store for
us."
"Is this true, what I see in the paper then?" Sir Pitt said--a
paragraph in which had greatly surprised him.
"It is true. Lord Steyne told me on Friday night, the night of that
fatal ball. He has been promised an appointment any time these six
months. Mr. Martyr, the Colonial Secretary, told him yesterday that it
was made out. That unlucky arrest ensued; that horrible meeting. I was
only guilty of too much devotedness to Rawdon's service. I have
received Lord Steyne alone a hundred times before. I confess I had
money of which Rawdon knew nothing. Don't you know how careless he is
of it, and could I dare to confide it to him?" And so she went on with
a perfectly connected story, which she poured into the ears of her
perplexed kinsman.
It was to the following effect. Becky owned, and with prefect
frankness, but deep contrition, that having remarked Lord Steyne's
partiality for her (at the mention of which Pitt blushed), and being
secure of her own virtue, she had determined to turn the great peer's
attachment to the advantage of herself and her family. "I looked for a
peerage for you, Pitt," she said (the brother-in-law again turned red).
"We have talked about it. Your genius and Lord Steyne's interest made
it more than probable, had not this dreadful calamity come to put an
end to all our hopes. But, first, I own that it was my object to
rescue my dear husband--him whom I love in spite of all his ill usage
and suspicions of me--to remove him from the poverty and ruin which was
impending over us. I saw Lord Steyne's partiality for me," she said,
casting down her eyes. "I own that I did everything in my power to
make myself pleasing to him, and as far as an honest woman may, to
secure his--his esteem. It was only on Friday morning that the news
arrived of the death of the Governor of Coventry Island, and my Lord
instantly secured the appointment for my dear husband. It was intended
as a surprise for him--he was to see it in the papers to-day. Even
after that horrid arrest took place (the expenses of which Lord Steyne
generously said he would settle, so that I was in a manner prevented
from coming to my husband's assistance), my Lord was laughing with me,
and saying that my dearest Rawdon would be consoled when he read of his
appointment in the paper, in that shocking spun--bailiff's house. And
then--then he came home. His suspicions were excited,--the dreadful
scene took place between my Lord and my cruel, cruel Rawdon--and, O my
God, what will happen next? Pitt, dear Pitt! pity me, and reconcile
us!" And as she spoke she flung herself down on her knees, and bursting
into tears, seized hold of Pitt's hand, which she kissed passionately.