Kitabı oku: «Ярмарка тщеславия / Vanity Fair», sayfa 3

6

The argument stands thus – Osborne, in love with Amelia, has asked an old friend to dinner and to Vauxhall – Jos Sedley is in love with Rebecca. Will he marry her? That is the great subject now in hand. Let us then step into the coach with the Russell Square party, and be off to the Gardens. There is barely room between Jos and Miss Sharp, who are on the front seat. Mr. Osborne sitting opposite, between Captain Dobbin and Amelia.

Every soul in the coach agreed that on that night Jos would propose to make Rebecca Sharp Mrs. Sedley. Amelia was quite enthusiastic for the match. Mr. Sedley was neutral. “Let Jos marry whom he likes,” he said; “it’s no affair of mine. This girl has no fortune; no more had Mrs. Sedley. She seems good-humoured and clever, and will keep him in order, perhaps.” So that everything seemed to smile upon Rebecca’s fortunes. All she wanted was the proposal.

The party was landed at the Royal Gardens in due time. As the majestic Jos stepped out of the creaking vehicle the crowd gave a cheer for the fat gentleman, who blushed and looked very big and mighty, as he walked away with Rebecca under his arm. George, of course, took charge of Amelia. She looked as happy as a rose-tree in sunshine.

Honest Dobbin contented himself by giving an arm to the shawls, and by paying at the door for the whole party. He walked very modestly behind them. About Rebecca and Jos he did not care a fig. But he thought Amelia worthy even of the brilliant George Osborne.

It is to be understood, as a matter of course, that our young people, being in parties of two and two, made the most solemn promises to keep together during the evening, and separated in ten minutes afterwards.¹¹

What were the adventures of Mr. Osborne and Miss Amelia? That is a secret. But be sure of this – they were perfectly happy, and correct in their behaviour.

But when Miss Rebecca Sharp and her stout companion lost themselves in a solitary walk, they both felt that the situation was extremely tender and critical, and now or never was the moment Miss Sharp thought, to provoke that declaration which was trembling on the timid lips of Mr. Sedley.

“How I should like to see India!” said Rebecca.

“SHOULD you?” said Joseph, with a most killing tenderness; and was no doubt about to follow up by a question still more tender, when, oh, provoking! the bell rang for the fireworks.

The two couples were perfectly happy then in their box: where the most delightful and intimate conversation took place. Jos was in his glory, ordering about the waiters with great majesty. Finally, he insisted upon having a bowl of rack punch; everybody had rack punch at Vauxhall.

The young ladies did not drink it; Osborne did not like it; and the consequence was that Jos drank up the whole contents of the bowl; and there was a liveliness which at first was astonishing, and then became almost painful. George Osborne conducted the girls home in safety.

Amelia looked very ruefully at her friend, as they went up stairs, and kissed her, and went to bed without any more talking.

“He must propose to-morrow,” thought Rebecca. “He called me his soul’s darling, four times; he squeezed my hand in Amelia’s presence. He must propose tomorrow.” And so thought Amelia, too.

The next day, however, as the two young ladies sat on the sofa, pretending to work, or to write letters, or to read novels, Sambo came into the room with his usual engaging grin, with a packet under his arm, and a note on a tray. “Note from Mr. Jos, Miss,” says Sambo. How Amelia trembled as she opened it!

So it ran:

Dear Amelia, I leave town today.

Pray excuse me, if you can, to the amiable Miss Sharp. As soon as I have recovered, for my health is very much shaken, I shall go to Scotland for some months, and am

Truly yours, Jos Sedley

All was over. Amelia did not dare to look at Rebecca’s pale face and burning eyes, but she dropped the letter into her friend’s lap; and got up, and went upstairs to her room, and cried her little heart out.

It now became clear to every soul in the house, except poor Amelia, that Rebecca should take her departure, as speedily as possible. Rebecca was thinking in her heart, “It was George Osborne who prevented my marriage.” She made her preparations for departure and accepted all the kind little Amelia’s presents, after the proper degree of hesitation and reluctance.

Finally came the parting with Miss Amelia, over which picture I intend to throw a veil.

7

And now it became naturally Rebecca’s duty to make herself agreeable to her new family of Crawleys.

“I am alone in the world,” said the friendless girl. “I have nothing to look for but what my own labour can bring me; and while that little pink-faced chit Amelia has ten thousand pounds and an establishment secure, poor Rebecca (and my figure is far better than hers) has only herself and her own wits to trust to. Well, let us see if some day or the other I cannot show Miss Amelia my real superiority over her. Not that I dislike poor Amelia: who can dislike such a harmless, good-natured creature? – only it will be a fine day when I can take my place above her in the world, as why, indeed, should I not?”

With the young people her method was pretty simple. She did not pester their young brains with too much learning, but, on the contrary, let them have their own way in regard to educating themselves.

With Mr. Crawley Miss Sharp was respectful and obedient. She used to consult him on passages of French which she could not understand, though her mother was a Frenchwoman, he was kind enough to select for her books of a more serious tendency, and address to her much of his conversation.

He took Rebecca to task once or twice about the propriety of playing at backgammon with Sir Pitt.¹² But it was not only by playing at backgammon with the Baronet, that the little governess rendered herself agreeable to her employer. She found many different ways of being useful to him. She volunteered to copy many of his letters, and altered the spelling of them so as to suit the usages of the present day. She became interested in everything about the estate, to the farm, the park, the garden, and the stables; and so delightful a companion was she, that the Baronet would seldom take his after-breakfast walk without her (and the children of course). She was almost mistress of the house when Mr. Crawley was absent, but her behaviour was always exceedingly modest and affable. She was quite a different person from the haughty, shy, dissatisfied little girl whom we have known previously.

Old Miss Crawley had a snug little house in Park Lane, and, as she ate and drank a great deal too much during the season in London, she went to Harrowgate or Cheltenham for the summer. Silly, romantic Miss Crawley, always used to pay Rawdon Crawley’s, her favourite nephew, debts after his duels; and would not listen to a word that was whispered against his morality.

* * *

Now let us turn our sight to Amelia. There was scarcely any point upon which the Misses Osborne, George’s sisters, and the Mesdemoiselles Dobbin agreed so well as in their estimate of her very trifling merits: and their wonder that their brothers could find any charms in her. And they treated her with such extreme kindness and patronised her, that the poor little thing was in fact perfectly dumb in their presence and as stupid as they thought her. She made efforts to like them, as in duty bound, and as sisters of her future husband.

Amelia was asking Captain Dobbin about Osborne all the time. He never hurried to visit her preferring to spend some time on games and drinking. Once, after three days of absence, Miss Amelia put on her bonnet, and actually invaded the Osborne house. “What! leave our brother to come to us?” said the young ladies. “Have you had a quarrel, Amelia? Do tell us!” No, indeed, there had been no quarrel. “Who could quarrel with him?” says she, with her eyes filled with tears. She only came over to – to see her dear friends; they had not met for so long. And this day she was so perfectly stupid and awkward, that the Misses Osborne and their governess, who stared after her as she went sadly away, wondered more than ever what George could see in poor little Amelia.

Osborne’s reputation was prodigious amongst the young men of the regiment. He was adored by the men. There were other people besides Amelia who worshipped him. Captain Dobbin on his part adored Amelia. He reproached John bitterly for paying little attention to the charming creature she was.

At the same time Mr. Sedley’s affairs were not that successful as due to the war the funds were falling. Still he presumed his daughter’s happiness to be stuck with Osborne and he promised the latter 10 thousand pounds to proceed with the marriage what Osborne happily promised.

* * *

Rawdon Crawley sent up his name by the sulky femme de chambre,¹³ and Miss Crawley’s new companion put a little hand into his as he stepped forward eagerly to meet her. Miss Crawley became quite cheerful, to the admiration of the doctors when they visited her, who usually found this worthy woman of the world under the depression and terror of death.

Captain Crawley came every day, and received bulletins from Miss Rebecca respecting his aunt’s health. The causes which had led to the illness of Miss Crawley, and her departure from her brother’s house in the country, were of such an unromantic nature that they are hardly fit to be explained in this sentimental novel.

For how is it possible to hint of a delicate female, living in good society, that she ate and drank too much? The attack was so sharp that all the family were in a fever of expectation regarding the will, and Rawdon Crawley was making sure of at least forty thousand pounds before the commencement of the London season.

Becky Sharp took the trouble of assisting the old lady. During the illness she was never out of temper; always alert; she slept light, having a perfectly clear conscience. Her face might be a trifle paler, and the circles round her eyes a little blacker than usual; but whenever she came out from the sick-room she was always smiling, fresh, and neat. The Captain thought so, and raved about her. The shaft of love had penetrated his soul.

He confided his secret to his aunt. She warned him Rawdon must not trifle with her affections, though – dear Miss Crawley would never pardon him for that; for she, too, was quite overcome by the little governess, and loved Sharp like a daughter. Rawdon must go away – go back to his regiment and naughty London, and not play with a poor artless girl’s feelings.

When he saw Rebecca alone, he rallied her about his father’s attachment in his graceful way. She flung up her head scornfully, looked him full in the face, and said, “Well, suppose he is fond of me. I know he is, and others too. You don’t think I am afraid of him, Captain Crawley? You don’t suppose I can’t defend my own honour,” said the little woman, looking as stately as a queen.

Well, meanwhile Becky was the greatest comfort and convenience to Miss Crawley, and she gave her a couple of new gowns, and an old necklace and shawl. When Miss Crawley was well enough to drive out, Becky accompanied her. And amongst the drives which they took, whither, of all places in the world they went to Russell Square, Bloomsbury, and the house of John Sedley. When the two girls met, and flew into each other’s arms, Rebecca performed her part of the embrace with the most perfect energy. Poor little Amelia blushed as she kissed her friend, and thought she had been guilty of something very like coldness towards her.

Their first interview was but a very short one. Miss Crawley was fairly captivated by the sweet blushing face of the young lady who came forward so timidly and so gracefully to pay her respects to the protector of her friend.

“My dear Sharp, your young friend is charming. Send for her to Park Lane, do you hear?” Miss Crawley had a good taste. She talked of Amelia half a dozen times that day. She mentioned her to Rawdon Crawley.

Of course, on this Rebecca instantly stated that Amelia was engaged to be married.

Amelia visited Rebecca in her present-day home. As Rebecca was shawling her in an upper apartment, where these two friends had an opportunity for a little of secret talking, Amelia, coming up to Rebecca, and taking her two little hands in hers, said, “Rebecca, I see it all.” Rebecca kissed her. And regarding this delightful secret, not one syllable more was said by either of the young women. But it was destined to come out before long.

Some short period after the above events, and Miss Rebecca Sharp still remaining at her patroness’s house in Park Lane, Sir Pitt was a widower again.

The news of Lady Crawley’s death provoked no more grief or comment than might have been expected in Miss Crawley’s family circle. “I suppose I must put off my party for the 3rd,” Miss Crawley said; and added, after a pause, “I hope my brother will have the decency not to marry again.”

On the morrow, as Rebecca was gazing from the window, she startled Miss Crawley, who was placidly occupied with a French novel, by crying out in an alarmed tone, “Here’s Sir Pitt, Ma’am!”

“My dear, I can’t see him. I won’t see him,” cried out Miss Crawley, and resumed the novel.

“She’s too ill to see you, sir,” Rebecca said, tripping down to Sir Pitt.

“So much the better,” Sir Pitt answered. “I want to see YOU, Miss Becky. Come along with me into the parlour,” and they entered that apartment together.

“I want you back at Queen’s Crawley, Miss,” the baronet said, fixing his eyes upon her.

“I hope to come soon,” she said in a low voice, “as soon as Miss Crawley is better – and return to – to the dear children.”

“You’ve said so these three months, Becky,” replied Sir Pitt. “Will you come back? Yes or no?”

“I daren’t – I don’t think – it would be right – to be alone – with you, sir,” Becky said, seemingly in great agitation.

“I say again, I want you,” Sir Pitt said, thumping the table. “I can’t get on without you. The house all goes wrong. It’s not the same place. You MUST come back. Do come back. Dear Becky, do come.”

“Come – as what, sir?” Rebecca gasped out.

“Come as Lady Crawley, if you like,” the Baronet said.

“Oh, Sir Pitt!” Rebecca said, very much moved.

“Say yes, Becky,” Sir Pitt continued. “I’m an old man, but a good one. I’ll make you happy.”

Rebecca wept some of the most genuine tears that ever fell from her eyes.

“Oh, Sir Pitt!” she said. “Oh, sir – I–I’m married ALREADY.”

8

“Generosity be hanged!¹⁴” Sir Pitt roared out. “Who is it to, then, you’re married? Where was it?”

“Let me come back with you to the country, sir! Let me watch over you as faithfully as ever! Don’t, don’t separate me from dear Queen’s Crawley!”

“The feller has left you, has he?” the Baronet said, beginning, as he fancied, to comprehend. “Well, Becky – come back if you like.

“Oh, sir! it would be the pride of my life to go back to Queen’s Crawley, and take care of the children, and of you as formerly, when you said you were pleased with the services of your little Rebecca. I can’t be your wife, sir; let me – let me be your daughter.” Saying which, Rebecca went down on HER knees in a most tragical way.

Miss Crawley was astonished by Becky’s rejection of Sir Pitt. “Nonsense, my dear, you would never have refused him had there not been someone else in the case,” Miss Crawley said, coming to her point at once. “Tell me the private reasons. There is someone; who is it that has touched your heart?”

Rebecca cast down her eyes. “You have guessed right, dear lady,” she said.

“My poor dear child,” cried Miss Crawley, who was always quite ready to be sentimental, “Tell me all, and let me console you.”

“I wish you could, dear Madam,” Rebecca said in the same tearful tone. And she laid her head upon Miss Crawley’s shoulder and wept there so naturally that the old lady, surprised into sympathy, embraced her with an almost maternal kindness. Rebecca wrote a letter later that day promising to her recipient that she would make the Old Miss Crawley adopt her and provide them a happy life and inheritance.

And the person who used to fetch these letters was indeed no other than Captain Rawdon Crawley.

9

When, then, Becky told the Captain, that the great crisis was near, and the time for action had arrived, Rawdon expressed himself as ready to act under her orders. They rented a flat not far from Miss Crawley. And soon came the day when Rebecca eloped leaving a letter in which she heartedly explained the truth. Old Miss Crawley and Sir Pitt were infuriated to learn that the happy husband was their Rawdon.

The old aunt was long in “coming-to.”¹⁵ A month had elapsed. Rawdon was denied the door, his letters were sent back unopened. Miss Crawley never stirred.

Still Rebecca was in a good mood buying things for her home and being a good wife to her captain. One day they went to an auction at a rather familiar house looking for a piano. The sale was at the old house in Russell Square, where we passed some evenings together at the beginning of this story.

Good old John Sedley was a ruined man. His name had been proclaimed as a defaulter on the Stock Exchange, and his bankruptcy and commercial extermination followed. They had to leave their house and move to a modest one. Amelia was severely unhappy. When the great crash came – the announcement of ruin, and the departure from Russell Square, and the declaration that all was over between her and George – all over between her and love, her and happiness, her and faith in the world, Amelia took the news with great sadness and patience. To death she looked with inexpressible longing. Then, she thought, I shall always be able to follow him.

Captain Dobbin couldn’t stay away from her troubles. He bought a piano at the auction and brought it to Amelia. He spoke to her and comforted her. Dobbin assured Amelia that the piano was the farewell present from Osborne.

Three days afterwards, Dobbin found Osborne in his room at the barracks.

“She – she’s sent me back some things I gave her. Look here!” There was a little packet directed in the well-known hand to Captain George Osborne, and some things lying about – a ring, a silver knife he had bought, as a boy, for her at a fair; a gold chain, and a locket with hair in it.

“It’s all over,” said he, with a groan of sickening remorse. “Look, Will, you may read it if you like.”

There was a little letter of a few lines, to which he pointed, which said:

My papa has ordered me to return to you these presents, which you made in happier days to me; and I am to write to you for the last time. Farewell. I pray God to strengthen me to bear this, and to bless you always. A. I shall often play upon the piano – your piano. It was like you to send it.

Dobbin was very soft-hearted. The idea of Amelia broken-hearted and lonely tore that good-natured soul. And he broke out into an emotion. He swore that Amelia was an angel.

“Where are they?” Osborne asked, after a long talk, and a long pause.

Dobbin knew. He had not merely sent the piano; but had written a note to Mrs. Sedley, and asked permission to come and see her. When Osborne heard that his friend had found her, he made hot and anxious inquiries regarding the poor child. How was she? How did she look? What did she say? His comrade took his hand, and looked him in the face.

“George, she’s dying,” William Dobbin said – and could speak no more.

Four hours after the talk between Dobbin and Osborne, the servant-maid came into Amelia’s room.

“Miss Emmy,” said the girl.

“I’m coming,” Emmy said, not looking round.

“There’s a message,” the maid went on. “There’s something – somebody – sure, here’s a new letter for you – don’t be reading them old ones anymore.” And she gave her a letter, which Emmy took, and read.

“I must see you,” the letter said. “Dearest Emmy – dearest love – dearest wife, come to me.”

George and her mother were outside, waiting.

* * *

When Captain Dobbin came back in the afternoon to these people – which he did with a great deal of sympathy for them – it did his heart good to see how Amelia had grown young again – how she laughed, and chirped, and sang familiar old songs at the piano, which were only interrupted by the bell from without proclaiming Mr. Sedley’s return from the City, before whom George received a signal to retreat.

Beyond the first smile of recognition Miss Sedley did not once notice Dobbin during his visit.¹⁶ But he was content, so that he saw her happy; and thankful to have been the means of making her so. Without knowing how, Captain William Dobbin found himself the great promoter, arranger, and manager of the match between George Osborne and Amelia. But for him it never would have taken place: he could not but confess as much to himself, and smiled rather bitterly as he thought that he of all men in the world should be the person upon whom the care of this marriage had fallen. He confirmed her father to give his consent to the marriage, he checked on Osborne and his affairs. He was content, so that he saw her happy; and thankful to have been the means of making her so.