Chapter III: Rebecca Is in Presence of the Enemy

by William Makepeace Thackeray

　　A very stout, puffy man, in buckskins and Hessianboots, with several immense neckcloths that rose almostto his nose, with a red striped waistcoat and an applegreen coat with steel buttons almost as large as crownpieces (it was the morning costume of a dandy or bloodof those days) was reading the paper by the fire whenthe two girls entered, and bounced off his arm-chair,and blushed excessively, and hid his entire face almostin his neckcloths at this apparition.

　　"It's only your sister, Joseph," said Amelia, laughingand shaking the two fingers which he held out. "I'vecome home for good, you know; and this is my friend,Miss Sharp, whom you have heard me mention."

　　"No, never, upon my word," said the head under theneckcloth, shaking very much--"that is, yes--whatabominably cold weather, Miss"--and herewith he fellto poking the fire with all his might, although it was in themiddle of June.

　　"He's very handsome," whispered Rebecca to Amelia,rather loud.

　　"Do you think so?" said the latter. "I'll tell him."

　　"Darling! not for worlds," said Miss Sharp, startingback as timid as a fawn. She had previously made arespectful virgin-like curtsey to the gentleman, and hermodest eyes gazed so perseveringly on the carpet that itwas a wonder how she should have found an opportunityto see him.

　　"Thank you for the beautiful shawls, brother," saidAmelia to the fire poker. "Are they not beautiful, Rebecca?"

　　"O heavenly!" said Miss Sharp, and her eyes wentfrom the carpet straight to the chandelier.

　　Joseph still continued a huge clattering at the pokerand tongs, puffing and blowing the while, and turningas red as his yellow face would allow him. "I can'tmake you such handsome presents, Joseph," continuedhis sister, "but while I was at school, I have embroideredfor you a very beautiful pair of braces."

　　"Good Gad! Amelia," cried the brother, in seriousalarm, "what do you mean?" and plunging with all hismight at the bell-rope, that article of furniture cameaway in his hand, and increased the honest fellow'sconfusion. "For heaven's sake see if my buggy's at thedoor. I can't wait. I must go. D-- that groom of mine.I must go."

　　At this minute the father of the family walked in,rattling his seals like a true British merchant. "What'sthe matter, Emmy?" says he.

　　"Joseph wants me to see if his--his buggy is at thedoor. What is a buggy, Papa?"

　　"It is a one-horse palanquin," said the old gentleman,who was a wag in his way.

　　Joseph at this burst out into a wild fit of laughter;in which, encountering the eye of Miss Sharp, he stoppedall of a sudden, as if he had been shot.

　　"This young lady is your friend? Miss Sharp, I amvery happy to see you. Have you and Emmy beenquarrelling already with Joseph, that he wants to be off?"

　　"I promised Bonamy of our service, sir," said Joseph,"to dine with him."

　　"O fie! didn't you tell your mother you would dinehere?"

　　"But in this dress it's impossible."

　　"Look at him, isn't he handsome enough to dineanywhere, Miss Sharp?"

　　On which, of course, Miss Sharp looked at her friend,and they both set off in a fit of laughter, highlyagreeable to the old gentleman.

　　"Did you ever see a pair of buckskins like those atMiss Pinkerton's?" continued he, following up hisadvantage.

　　"Gracious heavens! Father," cried Joseph.

　　"There now, I have hurt his feelings. Mrs. Sedley,my dear, I have hurt your son's feelings. I have alludedto his buckskins. Ask Miss Sharp if I haven't? Come,Joseph, be friends with Miss Sharp, and let us all go todinner."

　　"There's a pillau, Joseph, just as you like it, and Papahas brought home the best turbot in Billingsgate."

　　"Come, come, sir, walk downstairs with Miss Sharp,and I will follow with these two young women," saidthe father, and he took an arm of wife and daughterand walked merrily off.

　　If Miss Rebecca Sharp had determined in her heartupon making the conquest of this big beau, I don'tthink, ladies, we have any right to blame her; for thoughthe task of husband-hunting is generally, and withbecoming modesty, entrusted by young persons to theirmammas, recollect that Miss Sharp had no kind parentto arrange these delicate matters for her, and that ifshe did not get a husband for herself, there was no oneelse in the wide world who would take the trouble offher hands. What causes young people to "come out,"but the noble ambition of matrimony? What sends themtrooping to watering-places? What keeps them dancingtill five o'clock in the morning through a whole mortalseason? What causes them to labour at pianoforte sonatas,and to learn four songs from a fashionable master at aguinea a lesson, and to play the harp if they havehandsome arms and neat elbows, and to wear LincolnGreen toxophilite hats and feathers, but that they may bringdown some "desirable" young man with those killing bowsand arrows of theirs? What causes respectable parentsto take up their carpets, set their houses topsy-turvy, andspend a fifth of their year's income in ball suppers andiced champagne? Is it sheer love of their species, andan unadulterated wish to see young people happy anddancing? Psha! they want to marry their daughters; and,as honest Mrs. Sedley has, in the depths of her kindheart, already arranged a score of little schemes for thesettlement of her Amelia, so also had our beloved butunprotected Rebecca determined to do her very best tosecure the husband, who was even more necessary forher than for her friend. She had a vivid imagination; shehad, besides, read the Arabian Nights and Guthrie'sGeography; and it is a fact that while she was dressing fordinner, and after she had asked Amelia whether herbrother was very rich, she had built for herself a mostmagnificent castle in the air, of which she was mistress,with a husband somewhere in the background (she hadnot seen him as yet, and his figure would not thereforebe very distinct); she had arrayed herself in an infinityof shawls, turbans, and diamond necklaces, and hadmounted upon an elephant to the sound of the march inBluebeard, in order to pay a visit of ceremony to theGrand Mogul. Charming Alnaschar visions! it is thehappy privilege of youth to construct you, and manya fanciful young creature besides Rebecca Sharp hasindulged in these delightful day-dreams ere now!

　　Joseph Sedley was twelve years older than his sisterAmelia. He was in the East India Company's CivilService, and his name appeared, at the period of whichwe write, in the Bengal division of the East India Register,as collector of Boggley Wollah, an honourable andlucrative post, as everybody knows: in order to knowto what higher posts Joseph rose in the service, thereader is referred to the same periodical.

　　Boggley Wollah is situated in a fine, lonely, marshy,jungly district, famous for snipe-shooting, and wherenot unfrequently you may flush a tiger. Ramgunge, wherethere is a magistrate, is only forty miles off, and thereis a cavalry station about thirty miles farther; so Josephwrote home to his parents, when he took possession ofhis collectorship. He had lived for about eight years ofhis life, quite alone, at this charming place, scarcelyseeing a Christian face except twice a year, when thedetachment arrived to carry off the revenues which hehad collected, to Calcutta.

　　Luckily, at this time he caught a liver complaint, forthe cure of which he returned to Europe, and whichwas the source of great comfort and amusement to himin his native country. He did not live with his familywhile in London, but had lodgings of his own, likea gay young bachelor. Before he went to India he wastoo young to partake of the delightful pleasures of aman about town, and plunged into them on his returnwith considerable assiduity. He drove his horses in thePark; he dined at the fashionable taverns (for theOriental Club was not as yet invented); he frequentedthe theatres, as the mode was in those days, or madehis appearance at the opera, laboriously attired in tightsand a cocked hat.

　　On returning to India, and ever after, he used to talkof the pleasure of this period of his existence with greatenthusiasm, and give you to understand that he andBrummel were the leading bucks of the day. But he wasas lonely here as in his jungle at Boggley Wollah. Hescarcely knew a single soul in the metropolis: and wereit not for his doctor, and the society of his blue-pill,and his liver complaint, he must have died of loneliness.He was lazy, peevish, and a bon-vivan; the appearanceof a lady frightened him beyond measure; hence it wasbut seldom that he joined the paternal circle in RussellSquare, where there was plenty of gaiety, and where thejokes of his good-natured old father frightened hisamour-propre. His bulk caused Joseph much anxiousthought and alarm; now and then he would make adesperate attempt to get rid of his superabundant fat;but his indolence and love of good living speedily gotthe better of these endeavours at reform, and he foundhimself again at his three meals a day. He never waswell dressed; but he took the hugest pains to adorn hisbig person, and passed many hours daily in that occupation.His valet made a fortune out of his wardrobe: histoilet-table was covered with as many pomatums andessences as ever were employed by an old beauty: he hadtried, in order to give himself a waist, every girth, stay,and waistband then invented. Like most fat men, hewould have his clothes made too tight, and took carethey should be of the most brilliant colours and youthfulcut. When dressed at length, in the afternoon, he wouldissue forth to take a drive with nobody in the Park;and then would come back in order to dress again andgo and dine with nobody at the Piazza Coffee-House.He was as vain as a girl; and perhaps his extremeshyness was one of the results of his extreme vanity. IfMiss Rebecca can get the better of him, and at her firstentrance into life, she is a young person of no ordinarycleverness.

　　The first move showed considerable skill. When shecalled Sedley a very handsome man, she knew thatAmelia would tell her mother, who would probably tellJoseph, or who, at any rate, would be pleased by thecompliment paid to her son. All mothers are. If youhad told Sycorax that her son Caliban was as handsomeas Apollo, she would have been pleased, witch as shewas. Perhaps, too, Joseph Sedley would overhear thecompliment--Rebecca spoke loud enough--and he didhear, and (thinking in his heart that he was a very fineman) the praise thrilled through every fibre of his bigbody, and made it tingle with pleasure. Then, however,came a recoil. "Is the girl making fun of me?" he thought,and straightway he bounced towards the bell, and wasfor retreating, as we have seen, when his father's jokesand his mother's entreaties caused him to pause andstay where he was. He conducted the young lady downto dinner in a dubious and agitated frame of mind."Does she really think I am handsome?" thought he,"or is she only making game of me?" We have talkedof Joseph Sedley being as vain as a girl. Heaven helpus! the girls have only to turn the tables, and sayof one of their own sex, "She is as vain as a man,"and they will have perfect reason. The bearded creaturesare quite as eager for praise, quite as finikin over theirtoilettes, quite as proud of their personal advantages,quite as conscious of their powers of fascination, asany coquette in the world.

　　Downstairs, then, they went, Joseph very red andblushing, Rebecca very modest, and holding her greeneyes downwards. She was dressed in white, with bareshoulders as white as snow--the picture of youth,unprotected innocence, and humble virgin simplicity."I must be very quiet," thought Rebecca, "and very muchinterested about India."

　　Now we have heard how Mrs. Sedley had prepared afine curry for her son, just as he liked it, and in thecourse of dinner a portion of this dish was offered toRebecca. "What is it?" said she, turning an appealinglook to Mr. Joseph.

　　"Capital," said he. His mouth was full of it: his facequite red with the delightful exercise of gobbling."Mother, it's as good as my own curries in India."

　　"Oh, I must try some, if it is an Indian dish," saidMiss Rebecca. "I am sure everything must be good thatcomes from there."

　　"Give Miss Sharp some curry, my dear," said Mr.Sedley, laughing.

　　Rebecca had never tasted the dish before.

　　"Do you find it as good as everything else from India?"said Mr. Sedley.

　　"Oh, excellent!" said Rebecca, who was sufferingtortures with the cayenne pepper.

　　"Try a chili with it, Miss Sharp," said Joseph, reallyinterested.

　　"A chili," said Rebecca, gasping. "Oh yes!" She thoughta chili was something cool, as its name imported,and was served with some. "How fresh and green theylook," she said, and put one into her mouth. It washotter than the curry; flesh and blood could bear it nolonger. She laid down her fork. "Water, for Heaven'ssake, water!" she cried. Mr. Sedley burst out laughing(he was a coarse man, from the Stock Exchange, wherethey love all sorts of practical jokes). "They are realIndian, I assure you," said he. "Sambo, give Miss Sharpsome water."

　　The paternal laugh was echoed by Joseph, who thoughtthe joke capital. The ladies only smiled a little. Theythought poor Rebecca suffered too much. She would haveliked to choke old Sedley, but she swallowed hermortification as well as she had the abominable currybefore it, and as soon as she could speak, said, with a comical,good-humoured air, "I ought to have remembered thepepper which the Princess of Persia puts in the cream-tarts in the Arabian Nights. Do you put cayenne intoyour cream-tarts in India, sir?"

　　Old Sedley began to laugh, and thought Rebeccawas a good-humoured girl. Joseph simply said, "Cream-tarts, Miss? Our cream is very bad in Bengal. Wegenerally use goats' milk; and, 'gad, do you know, I've gotto prefer it!"

　　"You won't like everything from India now, MissSharp," said the old gentleman; but when the ladies hadretired after dinner, the wily old fellow said to his son,"Have a care, Joe; that girl is setting her cap at you."

　　"Pooh! nonsense!" said Joe, highly flattered. "I recollect,sir, there was a girl at Dumdum, a daughter ofCutler of the Artillery, and afterwards married to Lance,the surgeon, who made a dead set at me in the year'4--at me and Mulligatawney, whom I mentioned to youbefore dinner--a devilish good fellow Mulligatawney--he's a magistrate at Budgebudge, and sure to be incouncil in five years. Well, sir, the Artillery gave a ball,and Quintin, of the King's 14th, said to me, 'Sedley,' saidhe, 'I bet you thirteen to ten that Sophy Cutler hookseither you or Mulligatawney before the rains.' 'Done,'says I; and egad, sir--this claret's very good. Adamson'sor Carbonell's?"

　　A slight snore was the only reply: the honest stockbrokerwas asleep, and so the rest of Joseph's story was lostfor that day. But he was always exceedinglycommunicative in a man's party, and has told thisdelightful tale many scores of times to his apothecary,Dr. Gollop, when he came to inquire about the liver andthe blue-pill.

　　Being an invalid, Joseph Sedley contented himself witha bottle of claret besides his Madeira at dinner, andhe managed a couple of plates full of strawberries andcream, and twenty-four little rout cakes that were lyingneglected in a plate near him, and certainly (fornovelists have the privilege of knowing everything)he thought a great deal about the girl upstairs. "A nice,gay, merry young creature," thought he to himself. "Howshe looked at me when I picked up her handkerchief atdinner! She dropped it twice. Who's that singing in thedrawing-room? 'Gad! shall I go up and see?"

　　But his modesty came rushing upon him withuncontrollable force. His father was asleep: his hatwas in the hall: there was a hackney-coach standinghard by in Southampton Row. "I'll go and see the FortyThieves," said he, "and Miss Decamp's dance"; and heslipped away gently on the pointed toes of his boots,and disappeared, without waking his worthy parent.

　　"There goes Joseph," said Amelia, who was lookingfrom the open windows of the drawing-room, whileRebecca was singing at the piano.

　　"Miss Sharp has frightened him away," said Mrs.Sedley. "Poor Joe, why will he be so shy?"