Vanity Fair - Page 5/573

Although schoolmistresses' letters are to be trusted no more nor less

than churchyard epitaphs; yet, as it sometimes happens that a person

departs this life who is really deserving of all the praises the stone

cutter carves over his bones; who IS a good Christian, a good parent,

child, wife, or husband; who actually DOES leave a disconsolate family

to mourn his loss; so in academies of the male and female sex it occurs

every now and then that the pupil is fully worthy of the praises

bestowed by the disinterested instructor. Now, Miss Amelia Sedley was a

young lady of this singular species; and deserved not only all that

Miss Pinkerton said in her praise, but had many charming qualities

which that pompous old Minerva of a woman could not see, from the

differences of rank and age between her pupil and herself.

For she could not only sing like a lark, or a Mrs. Billington, and

dance like Hillisberg or Parisot; and embroider beautifully; and spell

as well as a Dixonary itself; but she had such a kindly, smiling,

tender, gentle, generous heart of her own, as won the love of everybody

who came near her, from Minerva herself down to the poor girl in the

scullery, and the one-eyed tart-woman's daughter, who was permitted to

vend her wares once a week to the young ladies in the Mall. She had

twelve intimate and bosom friends out of the twenty-four young ladies.

Even envious Miss Briggs never spoke ill of her; high and mighty Miss

Saltire (Lord Dexter's granddaughter) allowed that her figure was

genteel; and as for Miss Swartz, the rich woolly-haired mulatto from

St. Kitt's, on the day Amelia went away, she was in such a passion of

tears that they were obliged to send for Dr. Floss, and half tipsify

her with salvolatile. Miss Pinkerton's attachment was, as may be

supposed from the high position and eminent virtues of that lady, calm

and dignified; but Miss Jemima had already whimpered several times at

the idea of Amelia's departure; and, but for fear of her sister, would

have gone off in downright hysterics, like the heiress (who paid

double) of St. Kitt's. Such luxury of grief, however, is only allowed

to parlour-boarders. Honest Jemima had all the bills, and the washing,

and the mending, and the puddings, and the plate and crockery, and the

servants to superintend. But why speak about her? It is probable that

we shall not hear of her again from this moment to the end of time, and

that when the great filigree iron gates are once closed on her, she and

her awful sister will never issue therefrom into this little world of

history.

But as we are to see a great deal of Amelia, there is no harm in

saying, at the outset of our acquaintance, that she was a dear little

creature; and a great mercy it is, both in life and in novels, which

(and the latter especially) abound in villains of the most sombre sort,

that we are to have for a constant companion so guileless and

good-natured a person. As she is not a heroine, there is no need to

describe her person; indeed I am afraid that her nose was rather short

than otherwise, and her cheeks a great deal too round and red for a

heroine; but her face blushed with rosy health, and her lips with the

freshest of smiles, and she had a pair of eyes which sparkled with the

brightest and honestest good-humour, except indeed when they filled

with tears, and that was a great deal too often; for the silly thing

would cry over a dead canary-bird; or over a mouse, that the cat haply

had seized upon; or over the end of a novel, were it ever so stupid;

and as for saying an unkind word to her, were any persons hard-hearted

enough to do so--why, so much the worse for them. Even Miss Pinkerton,

that austere and godlike woman, ceased scolding her after the first

time, and though she no more comprehended sensibility than she did

Algebra, gave all masters and teachers particular orders to treat Miss

Sedley with the utmost gentleness, as harsh treatment was injurious to

her.