Vanity Fair - Page 497/573

There are some splendid tailors' shops in the High Street of

Southampton, in the fine plate-glass windows of which hang gorgeous

waistcoats of all sorts, of silk and velvet, and gold and crimson, and

pictures of the last new fashions, in which those wonderful gentlemen

with quizzing glasses, and holding on to little boys with the exceeding

large eyes and curly hair, ogle ladies in riding habits prancing by the

Statue of Achilles at Apsley House. Jos, although provided with some

of the most splendid vests that Calcutta could furnish, thought he

could not go to town until he was supplied with one or two of these

garments, and selected a crimson satin, embroidered with gold

butterflies, and a black and red velvet tartan with white stripes and a

rolling collar, with which, and a rich blue satin stock and a gold pin,

consisting of a five-barred gate with a horseman in pink enamel jumping

over it, he thought he might make his entry into London with some

dignity. For Jos's former shyness and blundering blushing timidity had

given way to a more candid and courageous self-assertion of his worth.

"I don't care about owning it," Waterloo Sedley would say to his

friends, "I am a dressy man"; and though rather uneasy if the ladies

looked at him at the Government House balls, and though he blushed and

turned away alarmed under their glances, it was chiefly from a dread

lest they should make love to him that he avoided them, being averse to

marriage altogether. But there was no such swell in Calcutta as

Waterloo Sedley, I have heard say, and he had the handsomest turn-out,

gave the best bachelor dinners, and had the finest plate in the whole

place.

To make these waistcoats for a man of his size and dignity took at

least a day, part of which he employed in hiring a servant to wait upon

him and his native and in instructing the agent who cleared his

baggage, his boxes, his books, which he never read, his chests of

mangoes, chutney, and curry-powders, his shawls for presents to people

whom he didn't know as yet, and the rest of his Persicos apparatus.

At length, he drove leisurely to London on the third day and in the new

waistcoat, the native, with chattering teeth, shuddering in a shawl on

the box by the side of the new European servant; Jos puffing his pipe

at intervals within and looking so majestic that the little boys cried

Hooray, and many people thought he must be a Governor-General. HE, I

promise, did not decline the obsequious invitation of the landlords to

alight and refresh himself in the neat country towns. Having partaken

of a copious breakfast, with fish, and rice, and hard eggs, at

Southampton, he had so far rallied at Winchester as to think a glass of

sherry necessary. At Alton he stepped out of the carriage at his

servant's request and imbibed some of the ale for which the place is

famous. At Farnham he stopped to view the Bishop's Castle and to

partake of a light dinner of stewed eels, veal cutlets, and French

beans, with a bottle of claret. He was cold over Bagshot Heath, where

the native chattered more and more, and Jos Sahib took some

brandy-and-water; in fact, when he drove into town he was as full of

wine, beer, meat, pickles, cherry-brandy, and tobacco as the steward's

cabin of a steam-packet. It was evening when his carriage thundered up

to the little door in Brompton, whither the affectionate fellow drove

first, and before hieing to the apartments secured for him by Mr.

Dobbin at the Slaughters'.