Vanity Fair - Page 519/573

"It was your father's room long before you were born, George," she

said, and she blushed as she kissed the boy.

She was very silent as they drove back to Richmond, where they had

taken a temporary house: where the smiling lawyers used to come

bustling over to see her (and we may be sure noted the visit in the

bill): and where of course there was a room for Major Dobbin too, who

rode over frequently, having much business to transact on behalf of his

little ward.

Georgy at this time was removed from Mr. Veal's on an unlimited

holiday, and that gentleman was engaged to prepare an inscription for a

fine marble slab, to be placed up in the Foundling under the monument

of Captain George Osborne.

The female Bullock, aunt of Georgy, although despoiled by that little

monster of one-half of the sum which she expected from her father,

nevertheless showed her charitableness of spirit by being reconciled to

the mother and the boy. Roehampton is not far from Richmond, and one

day the chariot, with the golden bullocks emblazoned on the panels, and

the flaccid children within, drove to Amelia's house at Richmond; and

the Bullock family made an irruption into the garden, where Amelia was

reading a book, Jos was in an arbour placidly dipping strawberries into

wine, and the Major in one of his Indian jackets was giving a back to

Georgy, who chose to jump over him. He went over his head and bounded

into the little advance of Bullocks, with immense black bows in their

hats, and huge black sashes, accompanying their mourning mamma.

"He is just of the age for Rosa," the fond parent thought, and glanced

towards that dear child, an unwholesome little miss of seven years of

age.

"Rosa, go and kiss your dear cousin," Mrs. Frederick said. "Don't you

know me, George? I am your aunt."

"I know you well enough," George said; "but I don't like kissing,

please"; and he retreated from the obedient caresses of his cousin.

"Take me to your dear mamma, you droll child," Mrs. Frederick said, and

those ladies accordingly met, after an absence of more than fifteen

years. During Emmy's cares and poverty the other had never once

thought about coming to see her, but now that she was decently

prosperous in the world, her sister-in-law came to her as a matter of

course.

So did numbers more. Our old friend, Miss Swartz, and her husband came

thundering over from Hampton Court, with flaming yellow liveries, and

was as impetuously fond of Amelia as ever. Miss Swartz would have

liked her always if she could have seen her. One must do her that

justice. But, que voulez vous?--in this vast town one has not the time

to go and seek one's friends; if they drop out of the rank they

disappear, and we march on without them. Who is ever missed in Vanity

Fair?