Chapter LII: In Which Lord Steyne Shows Himself in a Most Amiable Light

by William Makepeace Thackeray

　　When Lord Steyne was benevolently disposed, he didnothing by halves, and his kindness towards the Crawleyfamily did the greatest honour to his benevolentdiscrimination. His lordship extended his good-will to littleRawdon: he pointed out to the boy's parents the necessityof sending him to a public school, that he was ofan age now when emulation, the first principles of theLatin language, pugilistic exercises, and the society ofhis fellow-boys would be of the greatest benefit to theboy. His father objected that he was not rich enough tosend the child to a good public school; his mother thatBriggs was a capital mistress for him, and had broughthim on (as indeed was the fact) famously in English,the Latin rudiments, and in general learning: but all theseobjections disappeared before the generous perseveranceof the Marquis of Steyne. His lordship was one of thegovernors of that famous old collegiate institution calledthe Whitefriars. It had been a Cistercian Convent in olddays, when the Smithfield, which is contiguous to it, wasa tournament ground. Obstinate heretics used to bebrought thither convenient for burning hard by. HenryVIII, the Defender of the Faith, seized upon themonastery and its possessions and hanged and tortured someof the monks who could not accommodate themselves tothe pace of his reform. Finally, a great merchant boughtthe house and land adjoining, in which, and with the helpof other wealthy endowments of land and money, heestablished a famous foundation hospital for old menand children. An extern school grew round the old almostmonastic foundation, which subsists still with itsmiddle-age costume and usages--and all Cistercians praythat it may long flourish.

　　Of this famous house, some of the greatest noblemen,prelates, and dignitaries in England are governors: andas the boys are very comfortably lodged, fed, andeducated, and subsequently inducted to good scholarshipsat the University and livings in the Church, many littlegentlemen are devoted to the ecclesiastical professionfrom their tenderest years, and there is considerableemulation to procure nominations for the foundation. Itwas originally intended for the sons of poor anddeserving clerics and laics, but many of the noble governorsof the Institution, with an enlarged and rather capriciousbenevolence, selected all sorts of objects for their bounty.To get an education for nothing, and a future livelihoodand profession assured, was so excellent a scheme thatsome of the richest people did not disdain it; and notonly great men's relations, but great men themselves, senttheir sons to profit by the chance--Right Rev. prelatessent their own kinsmen or the sons of their clergy, while,on the other hand, some great noblemen did not disdainto patronize the children of their confidential servants--so that a lad entering this establishment had everyvariety of youthful society wherewith to mingle.

　　Rawdon Crawley, though the only book which he studiedwas the Racing Calendar, and though his chiefrecollections of polite learning were connected with thefloggings which he received at Eton in his early youth,had that decent and honest reverence for classical learningwhich all English gentlemen feel, and was glad to thinkthat his son was to have a provision for life, perhaps,and a certain opportunity of becoming a scholar. Andalthough his boy was his chief solace and companion, andendeared to him by a thousand small ties, about whichhe did not care to speak to his wife, who had all alongshown the utmost indifference to their son, yet Rawdonagreed at once to part with him and to give up his owngreatest comfort and benefit for the sake of the welfareof the little lad. He did not know how fond he was ofthe child until it became necessary to let him go away.When he was gone, he felt more sad and downcast thanhe cared to own--far sadder than the boy himself, whowas happy enough to enter a new career and findcompanions of his own age. Becky burst out laughing onceor twice when the Colonel, in his clumsy, incoherent way,tried to express his sentimental sorrows at the boy'sdeparture. The poor fellow felt that his dearest pleasureand closest friend was taken from him. He looked oftenand wistfully at the little vacant bed in his dressing-room,where the child used to sleep. He missed him sadly ofmornings and tried in vain to walk in the park withouthim. He did not know how solitary he was until littleRawdon was gone. He liked the people who were fond ofhim, and would go and sit for long hours with hisgood-natured sister Lady Jane, and talk to her aboutthe virtues, and good looks, and hundred good qualitiesof the child.

　　Young Rawdon's aunt, we have said, was very fondof him, as was her little girl, who wept copiously whenthe time for her cousin's departure came. The elderRawdon was thankful for the fondness of mother anddaughter. The very best and honestest feelings of theman came out in these artless outpourings of paternalfeeling in which he indulged in their presence, andencouraged by their sympathy. He secured not only LadyJane's kindness, but her sincere regard, by the feelingswhich he manifested, and which he could not show to hisown wife. The two kinswomen met as seldom as possible.Becky laughed bitterly at Jane's feelings and softness;the other's kindly and gentle nature could not but revoltat her sister's callous behaviour.

　　It estranged Rawdon from his wife more than he knewor acknowledged to himself. She did not care for theestrangement. Indeed, she did not miss him or anybody.She looked upon him as her errand-man and humbleslave. He might be ever so depressed or sulky, and shedid not mark his demeanour, or only treated it with asneer. She was busy thinking about her position, or herpleasures, or her advancement in society; she ought tohave held a great place in it, that is certain.

　　It was honest Briggs who made up the little kit for theboy which he was to take to school. Molly, the housemaid,blubbered in the passage when he went away--Molly kind and faithful in spite of a long arrear ofunpaid wages. Mrs. Becky could not let her husband havethe carriage to take the boy to school. Take the horsesinto the City!--such a thing was never heard of. Let acab be brought. She did not offer to kiss him when hewent, nor did the child propose to embrace her; butgave a kiss to old Briggs (whom, in general, he was veryshy of caressing), and consoled her by pointing out thathe was to come home on Saturdays, when she wouldhave the benefit of seeing him. As the cab rolled towardsthe City, Becky's carriage rattled off to the park. Shewas chattering and laughing with a score of young dandiesby the Serpentine as the father and son entered at theold gates of the school--where Rawdon left the childand came away with a sadder purer feeling in his heartthan perhaps that poor battered fellow had ever knownsince he himself came out of the nursery.

　　He walked all the way home very dismally, and dinedalone with Briggs. He was very kind to her and gratefulfor her love and watchfulness over the boy. Hisconscience smote him that he had borrowed Briggs's moneyand aided in deceiving her. They talked about littleRawdon a long time, for Becky only came home to dressand go out to dinner--and then he went off uneasily todrink tea with Lady Jane, and tell her of what hadhappened, and how little Rawdon went off like a trump, andhow he was to wear a gown and little knee-breeches, andhow young Blackball, Jack Blackball's son, of the oldregiment, had taken him in charge and promised to bekind to him.

　　In the course of a week, young Blackball hadconstituted little Rawdon his fag, shoe-black, and breakfasttoaster; initiated him into the mysteries of the LatinGrammar; and thrashed him three or four times, but notseverely. The little chap's good-natured honest face wonhis way for him. He only got that degree of beating whichwas, no doubt, good for him; and as for blacking shoes,toasting bread, and fagging in general, were these officesnot deemed to be necessary parts of every young Englishgentleman's education?

　　Our business does not lie with the second generationand Master Rawdon's life at school, otherwise the presenttale might be carried to any indefinite length. The Colonelwent to see his son a short time afterwards and foundthe lad sufficiently well and happy, grinning and laughingin his little black gown and little breeches.

　　His father sagaciously tipped Blackball, his master, asovereign, and secured that young gentleman's good-willtowards his fag. As a protege of the great Lord Steyne,the nephew of a County member, and son of a Coloneland C.B., whose name appeared in some of the mostfashionable parties in the Morning Post, perhaps theschool authorities were disposed not to look unkindly onthe child. He had plenty of pocket-money, which hespent in treating his comrades royally to raspberry tarts,and he was often allowed to come home on Saturdaysto his father, who always made a jubilee of that day.When free, Rawdon would take him to the play, or sendhim thither with the footman; and on Sundays he went tochurch with Briggs and Lady Jane and his cousins.Rawdon marvelled over his stories about school, andfights, and fagging. Before long, he knew the names of allthe masters and the principal boys as well as littleRawdon himself. He invited little Rawdon's crony fromschool, and made both the children sick with pastry, andoysters, and porter after the play. He tried to look knowingover the Latin grammar when little Rawdon showedhim what part of that work he was "in." "Stick to it, myboy," he said to him with much gravity, "there's nothinglike a good classical education! Nothing!"

　　Becky's contempt for her husband grew greater everyday. "Do what you like--dine where you please--go andhave ginger-beer and sawdust at Astley's, or psalm-singing with Lady Jane--only don't expect me to busymyself with the boy. I have your interests to attend to,as you can't attend to them yourself. I should like toknow where you would have been now, and in what sortof a position in society, if I had not looked after you."Indeed, nobody wanted poor old Rawdon at the partieswhither Becky used to go. She was often asked withouthim now. She talked about great people as if she had thefee-simple of May Fair, and when the Court went intomourning, she always wore black.

　　Little Rawdon being disposed of, Lord Steyne, whotook such a parental interest in the affairs of this amiablepoor family, thought that their expenses might be veryadvantageously curtailed by the departure of Miss Briggs,and that Becky was quite clever enough to take themanagement of her own house. It has been narrated in aformer chapter how the benevolent nobleman had givenhis protegee money.to pay off her little debt to MissBriggs, who however still remained behind with herfriends; whence my lord came to the painful conclusionthat Mrs. Crawley had made some other use of themoney confided to her than that for which her generouspatron had given the loan. However, Lord Steyne wasnot so rude as to impart his suspicions upon this head toMrs. Becky, whose feelings might be hurt by anycontroversy on the money-question, and who might have athousand painful reasons for disposing otherwise of hislordship's generous loan. But he determined to satisfyhimself of the real state of the case, and instituted thenecessary inquiries in a most cautious and delicatemanner.

　　In the first place he took an early opportunity ofpumping Miss Briggs. That was not a difficult operation.A very little encouragement would set that worthy womanto talk volubly and pour out all within her. And one daywhen Mrs. Rawdon had gone out to drive (as Mr. Fiche,his lordship's confidential servant, easily learned at thelivery stables where the Crawleys kept their carriage andhorses, or rather, where the livery-man kept a carriageand horses for Mr. and Mrs. Crawley)--my lord droppedin upon the Curzon Street house--asked Briggs for a cupof coffee--told her that he had good accounts of the littleboy at school--and in five minutes found out from herthat Mrs. Rawdon had given her nothing except a blacksilk gown, for which Miss Briggs was immensely grateful.

　　He laughed within himself at this artless story. For thetruth is, our dear friend Rebecca had given him a mostcircumstantial narration of Briggs's delight at receivingher money--eleven hundred and twenty-five pounds--and in what securities she had invested it; and what apang Becky herself felt in being obliged to pay away sucha delightful sum of money. "Who knows," the dearwoman may have thought within herself, "perhaps hemay give me a little more?" My lord, however, made nosuch proposal to the little schemer--very likely thinkingthat he had been sufficiently generous already.

　　He had the curiosity, then, to ask Miss Briggs aboutthe state of her private affairs--and she told his lordshipcandidly what her position was--how Miss Crawley hadleft her a legacy--how her relatives had had part of it--how Colonel Crawley had put out another portion, forwhich she had the best security and interest--and howMr. and Mrs. Rawdon had kindly busied themselves withSir Pitt, who was to dispose of the remainder mostadvantageously for her, when he had time. My lord askedhow much the Colonel had already invested for her, andMiss Briggs at once and truly told him that the sum wassix hundred and odd pounds.

　　But as soon as she had told her story, the volubleBriggs repented of her frankness and besought my lordnot to tell Mr. Crawley of the confessions which she hadmade. "The Colonel was so kind--Mr. Crawley mightbe offended and pay back the money, for which shecould get no such good interest anywhere else." LordSteyne, laughing, promised he never would divulge theirconversation, and when he and Miss Briggs parted helaughed still more.

　　"What an accomplished little devil it is!" thought he."What a splendid actress and manager! She had almostgot a second supply out of me the other day; with hercoaxing ways. She beats all the women I have ever seenin the course of all my well-spent life. They are babiescompared to her. I am a greenhorn myself, and a fool inher hands--an old fool. She is unsurpassable in lies."His lordship's admiration for Becky rose immeasurablyat this proof of her cleverness. Getting the money wasnothing--but getting double the sum she wanted, andpaying nobody--it was a magnificent stroke. And Crawley,my lord thought--Crawley is not such a fool as helooks and seems. He has managed the matter cleverlyenough on his side. Nobody would ever have supposedfrom his face and demeanour that he knew anythingabout this money business; and yet he put her up to it,and has spent the money, no doubt. In this opinion mylord, we know, was mistaken, but it influenced a gooddeal his behaviour towards Colonel Crawley, whom hebegan to treat with even less than that semblance ofrespect which he had formerly shown towards thatgentleman. It never entered into the head of Mrs.Crawley's patron that the little lady might be making apurse for herself; and, perhaps, if the truth must be told,he judged of Colonel Crawley by his experience of otherhusbands, whom he had known in the course of the longand well-spent life which had made him acquainted witha great deal of the weakness of mankind. My lord hadbought so many men during his life that he was surelyto be pardoned for supposing that he had found the priceof this one.

　　He taxed Becky upon the point on the very first occasionwhen he met her alone, and he complimented her,good-humouredly, on her cleverness in getting more thanthe money which she required. Becky was only a littletaken aback. It was not the habit of this dear creatureto tell falsehoods, except when necessity compelled, butin these great emergencies it was her practice to lie veryfreely; and in an instant she was ready with another neatplausible circumstantial story which she administered toher patron. The previous statement which she had madeto him was a falsehood--a wicked falsehood--sheowned it. But who had made her tell it? "Ah, my Lord,"she said, "you don't know all I have to suffer and bearin silence; you see me gay and happy before you--youlittle know what I have to endure when there is noprotector near me. It was my husband, by threats andthe most savage treatment, forced me to ask for thatsum about which I deceived you. It was he who,foreseeing that questions might be asked regarding thedisposal of the money, forced me to account for it as Idid. He took the money. He told me he had paid MissBriggs; I did not want, I did not dare to doubt him.Pardon the wrong which a desperate man is forced tocommit, and pity a miserable, miserable woman." Sheburst into tears as she spoke. Persecuted virtue neverlooked more bewitchingly wretched.

　　They had a long conversation, driving round and roundthe Regent's Park in Mrs. Crawley's carriage together,a conversation of which it is not necessary to repeatthe details, but the upshot of it was that, when Beckycame home, she flew to her dear Briggs with a smilingface and announced that she had some very good newsfor her. Lord Steyne had acted in the noblest and mostgenerous manner. He was always thinking how and whenhe could do good. Now that little Rawdon was gone toschool, a dear companion and friend was no longernecessary to her. She was grieved beyond measure to partwith Briggs, but her means required that she shouldpractise every retrenchment, and her sorrow wasmitigated by the idea that her dear Briggs would be farbetter provided for by her generous patron than in herhumble home. Mrs. Pilkington, the housekeeper at GauntlyHall, was growing exceedingly old, feeble, and rheumatic:she was not equal to the work of superintendingthat vast mansion, and must be on the look out for asuccessor. It was a splendid position. The family did notgo to Gauntly once in two years. At other times thehousekeeper was the mistress of the magnificentmansion--had four covers daily for her table; was visited bythe clergy and the most respectable people of the county--was the lady of Gauntly, in fact; and the two lasthousekeepers before Mrs. Pilkington had married rectorsof Gauntly--but Mrs. P. could not, being the aunt ofthe present Rector. The place was not to be hers yet,but she might go down on a visit to Mrs. Pilkington andsee whether she would like to succeed her.

　　What words can paint the ecstatic gratitude of Briggs!All she stipulated for was that little Rawdon should beallowed to come down and see her at the Hall. Beckypromised this--anything. She ran up to her husband whenhe came home and told him the joyful news. Rawdonwas glad, deuced glad; the weight was off his conscienceabout poor Briggs's money. She was provided for, at anyrate, but--but his mind was disquiet. He did not seemto be all right, somehow. He told little Southdown whatLord Steyne had done, and the young man eyed Crawleywith an air which surprised the latter.

　　He told Lady Jane of this second proof of Steyne'sbounty, and she, too, looked odd and alarmed; so didSir Pitt. "She is too clever and--and gay to be allowedto go from party to party without a companion," bothsaid. "You must go with her, Rawdon, wherever shegoes, and you must have somebody with her--one of thegirls from Queen's Crawley, perhaps, though they wererather giddy guardians for her."

　　Somebody Becky should have. But in the meantimeit was clear that honest Briggs must not lose her chanceof settlement for life, and so she and her bags werepacked, and she set off on her journey. And so two ofRawdon's out-sentinels were in the hands of the enemy.

　　Sir Pitt went and expostulated with his sister-in-lawupon the subject of the dismissal of Briggs and othermatters of delicate family interest. In vain she pointedout to him how necessary was the protection of LordSteyne for her poor husband; how cruel it would be ontheir part to deprive Briggs of the position offered to her.Cajolements, coaxings, smiles, tears could not satisfy SirPitt, and he had something very like a quarrel with hisonce admired Becky. He spoke of the honour of thefamily, the unsullied reputation of the Crawleys;expressed himself in indignant tones about her receivingthose young Frenchmen--those wild young men of fashion,my Lord Steyne himself, whose carriage was alwaysat her door, who passed hours daily in her company,and whose constant presence made the world talk abouther. As the head of the house he implored her to bemore prudent. Society was already speaking lightly ofher. Lord Steyne, though a nobleman of the greateststation and talents, was a man whose attentions wouldcompromise any woman; he besought, he implored, hecommanded his sister-in-law to be watchful in herintercourse with that nobleman.

　　Becky promised anything and everything Pitt wanted;but Lord Steyne came to her house as often as ever,and Sir Pitt's anger increased. I wonder was Lady Janeangry or pleased that her husband at last found faultwith his favourite Rebecca? Lord Steyne's visitscontinuing, his own ceased, and his wife was for refusingall further intercourse with that nobleman and decliningthe invitation to the charade-night which the marchionesssent to her; but Sir Pitt thought it was necessary toaccept it, as his Royal Highness would be there.

　　Although he went to the party in question, Sir Pittquitted it very early, and his wife, too, was very gladto come away. Becky hardly so much as spoke to him ornoticed her sister-in-law. Pitt Crawley declared herbehaviour was monstrously indecorous, reprobated instrong terms the habit of play-acting and fancy dressingas highly unbecoming a British female, and after thecharades were over, took his brother Rawdon severelyto task for appearing himself and allowing his wife tojoin in such improper exhibitions.

　　Rawdon said she should not join in any more suchamusements--but indeed, and perhaps from hints fromhis elder brother and sister, he had already become avery watchful and exemplary domestic character. He leftoff his clubs and billiards. He never left home. He tookBecky out to drive; he went laboriously with her to allher parties. Whenever my Lord Steyne called, he wassure to find the Colonel. And when Becky proposed togo out without her husband, or received invitations forherself, he peremptorily ordered her to refuse them: andthere was that in the gentleman's manner which enforcedobedience. Little Becky, to do her justice, was charmedwith Rawdon's gallantry. If he was surly, she never was.Whether friends were present or absent, she had alwaysa kind smile for him and was attentive to his pleasureand comfort. It was the early days of their marriage overagain: the same good humour, prevenances, merriment,and artless confidence and regard. "How much pleasanterit is," she would say, "to have you by my side in thecarriage than that foolish old Briggs! Let us always go onso, dear Rawdon. How nice it would be, and how happywe should always be, if we had but the money!" Hefell asleep after dinner in his chair; he did not see theface opposite to him, haggard, weary, and terrible; itlighted up with fresh candid smiles when he woke. Itkissed him gaily. He wondered that he had ever hadsuspicions. No, he never had suspicions; all those dumbdoubts and surly misgivings which had been gathering onhis mind were mere idle jealousies. She was fond of him;she always had been. As for her shining in society, itwas no fault of hers; she was formed to shine there.Was there any woman who could talk, or sing, or doanything like her? If she would but like the boy!Rawdon thought. But the mother and son never could bebrought together.

　　And it was while Rawdon's mind was agitated withthese doubts and perplexities that the incident occurredwhich was mentioned in the last chapter, and theunfortunate Colonel found himself a prisoner away fromhome.