Vanity Fair - Page 506/573

It was a modest establishment. The butler was Jos's valet also, and

never was more drunk than a butler in a small family should be who has

a proper regard for his master's wine. Emmy was supplied with a maid,

grown on Sir William Dobbin's suburban estate; a good girl, whose

kindness and humility disarmed Mrs. Osborne, who was at first terrified

at the idea of having a servant to wait upon herself, who did not in

the least know how to use one, and who always spoke to domestics with

the most reverential politeness. But this maid was very useful in the

family, in dexterously tending old Mr. Sedley, who kept almost entirely

to his own quarter of the house and never mixed in any of the gay

doings which took place there.

Numbers of people came to see Mrs. Osborne. Lady Dobbin and daughters

were delighted at her change of fortune, and waited upon her. Miss

Osborne from Russell Square came in her grand chariot with the flaming

hammer-cloth emblazoned with the Leeds arms. Jos was reported to be

immensely rich. Old Osborne had no objection that Georgy should

inherit his uncle's property as well as his own. "Damn it, we will make

a man of the feller," he said; "and I'll see him in Parliament before I

die. You may go and see his mother, Miss O., though I'll never set

eyes on her": and Miss Osborne came. Emmy, you may be sure, was very

glad to see her, and so be brought nearer to George. That young fellow

was allowed to come much more frequently than before to visit his

mother. He dined once or twice a week in Gillespie Street and bullied

the servants and his relations there, just as he did in Russell Square.

He was always respectful to Major Dobbin, however, and more modest in

his demeanour when that gentleman was present. He was a clever lad and

afraid of the Major. George could not help admiring his friend's

simplicity, his good humour, his various learning quietly imparted, his

general love of truth and justice. He had met no such man as yet in

the course of his experience, and he had an instinctive liking for a

gentleman. He hung fondly by his godfather's side, and it was his

delight to walk in the parks and hear Dobbin talk. William told George

about his father, about India and Waterloo, about everything but

himself. When George was more than usually pert and conceited, the

Major made jokes at him, which Mrs. Osborne thought very cruel. One

day, taking him to the play, and the boy declining to go into the pit

because it was vulgar, the Major took him to the boxes, left him there,

and went down himself to the pit. He had not been seated there very

long before he felt an arm thrust under his and a dandy little hand in

a kid glove squeezing his arm. George had seen the absurdity of his

ways and come down from the upper region. A tender laugh of

benevolence lighted up old Dobbin's face and eyes as he looked at the

repentant little prodigal. He loved the boy, as he did everything that

belonged to Amelia. How charmed she was when she heard of this

instance of George's goodness! Her eyes looked more kindly on Dobbin

than they ever had done. She blushed, he thought, after looking at him

so.