Chapter XLII: Which Treats of the Osborne Family

by William Makepeace Thackeray

　　Considerable time has elapsed since we have seen ourrespectable friend, old Mr. Osborne of Russell Square. Hehas not been the happiest of mortals since last we met him.Events have occurred which have not improved histemper, and in more in stances than one he has not beenallowed to have his own way. To be thwarted in thisreasonable desire was always very injurious to the oldgentleman; and resistance became doubly exasperatingwhen gout, age, loneliness, and the force of manydisappointments combined to weigh him down. His stiffblack hair began to grow quite white soon after his son'sdeath; his-face grew redder; his hands trembled more andmore as he poured out his glass of port wine. He led hisclerks a dire life in the City: his family at home were notmuch happier. I doubt if Rebecca, whom we have seenpiously praying for Consols, would have exchanged herpoverty and the dare-devil excitement and chances of herlife for Osborne's money and the humdrum gloom whichenveloped him. He had proposed for Miss Swartz, but hadbeen rejected scornfully by the partisans of that lady, whomarried her to a young sprig of Scotch nobility. He was aman to have married a woman out of low life and bulliedher dreadfully afterwards; but no person presented herselfsuitable to his taste, and, instead, he tyrannized over hisunmarried daughter, at home. She had a fine carriage andfine horses and sat at the head of a table loaded with thegrandest plate. She had a cheque-book, a prize footman tofollow her when she walked, unlimited credit, and bowsand compliments from all the tradesmen, and all theappurtenances of an heiress; but she spent a woeful time.The little charity-girls at the Foundling, the sweeperess atthe crossing, the poorest under-kitchen-maid in theservants' hall, was happy compared to that unfortunateand now middle-aged young lady.

　　Frederick Bullock, Esq., of the house of Bullock, Hulker, andBullock, had married Maria Osborne, not without a greatdeal of difficulty and grumbling on Mr. Bullock's part.George being dead and cut out of his father's will,Frederick insisted that the half of the old gentleman'sproperty should be settled upon his Maria, and indeed, fora long time, refused, "to come to the scratch" (it was Mr.Frederick's own expression) on any other terms. Osbornesaid Fred had agreed to take his daughter with twentythousand, and he should bind himself to no more. "Fredmight take it, and welcome, or leave it, and go and behanged." Fred, whose hopes had been raised when Georgehad been disinherited, thought himself infamouslyswindled by the old merchant, and for some time made asif he would break off the match altogether. Osbornewithdrew his account from Bullock and Hulker's, went on'Change with a horsewhip which he swore he would layacross the back of a certain scoundrel that should benameless, and demeaned himself in his usual violentmanner. Jane Osborne condoled with her sister Mariaduring this family feud. "I always told you, Maria, that itwas your money he loved and not you," she said,soothingly.

　　"He selected me and my money at any rate; he didn'tchoose you and yours," replied Maria, tossing up her head.

　　The rapture was, however, only temporary. Fred's fatherand senior partners counselled him to take Maria, evenwith the twenty thousand settled, half down, and half atthe death of Mr. Osborne, with the chances of the furtherdivision of the property. So he "knuckled down," again touse his own phrase, and sent old Hulker with peaceableovertures to Osborne. It was his father, he said, who wouldnot hear of the match, and had made the difficulties; hewas most anxious to keep the engagement. The excuse wassulkily accepted by Mr. Osborne. Hulker and Bullock werea high family of the City aristocracy, and connected withthe "nobs" at the West End. It was something for the oldman to be able to say, "My son, sir, of the house of Hulker,Bullock, and Co., sir; my daughter's cousin, Lady MaryMango, sir, daughter of the Right Hon. The Earl ofCastlemouldy." In his imagination he saw his housepeopled by the "nobs." So he forgave young Bullock andconsented that the marriage should take place.

　　It was a grand affair--the bridegroom's relatives giving thebreakfast, their habitations being near St. George's,Hanover Square, where the business took place. The "nobsof the West End" were invited, and many of them signedthe book. Mr. Mango and Lady Mary Mango were there,with the dear young Gwendoline and Guinever Mango asbridesmaids; Colonel Bludyer of the Dragoon Guards (eldestson of the house of Bludyer Brothers, Mincing Lane),another cousin of the bridegroom, and the Honourable Mrs.Bludyer; the Honourable George Boulter, Lord Levant's son,and his lady, Miss Mango that was; Lord ViscountCastletoddy; Honourable James McMull and Mrs. McMull(formerly Miss Swartz); and a host of fashionables, whohave all married into Lombard Street and done a greatdeal to ennoble Cornhill.

　　The young couple had a house near Berkeley Square and asmall villa at Roehampton, among the banking colonythere. Fred was considered to have made rather amesalliance by the ladies of his family, whose grandfatherhad been in a Charity School, and who were allied throughthe husbands with some of the best blood in England. AndMaria was bound, by superior pride and great care in thecomposition of her visiting-book, to make up for thedefects of birth, and felt it her duty to see her father andsister as little as possible.

　　That she should utterly break with the old man, who hadstill so many scores of thousand pounds to give away, isabsurd to suppose. Fred Bullock would never allow her todo that. But she was still young and incapable of hiding herfeelings; and by inviting her papa and sister to her third-rate parties, and behaving very coldly to them when theycame, and by avoiding Russell Square, and indiscreetlybegging her father to quit that odious vulgar place, she didmore harm than all Frederick's diplomacy could repair, andperilled her chance of her inheritance like a giddy heedlesscreature as she was.

　　So Russell Square is not good enough for Mrs. Maria, hay?"said the old gentleman, rattling up the carriage windows ashe and his daughter drove away one night from Mrs.Frederick Bullock's, after dinner. "So she invites her fatherand sister to a second day's dinner (if those sides, orontrys, as she calls 'em, weren't served yesterday, I'md--d), and to meet City folks and littery men, and keepsthe Earls and the Ladies, and the Honourables to herself.Honourables? Damn Honourables. I am a plain Britishmerchant I am, and could buy the beggarly hounds overand over. Lords, indeed!--why, at one of her swarreys Isaw one of 'em speak to a dam fiddler--a fellar I despise.And they won't come to Russell Square, won't they? Why,I'll lay my life I've got a better glass of wine, and pay abetter figure for it, and can show a handsomer service ofsilver, and can lay a better dinner on my mahogany, thanever they see on theirs--the cringing, sneaking, stuck-upfools. Drive on quick, James: I want to get back to RussellSquare--ha, ha!" and he sank back into the corner with afurious laugh. With such reflections on his own superiormerit, it was the custom of the old gentleman notunfrequently to console himself.

　　Jane Osborne could not but concur in these opinionsrespecting her sister's conduct; and when Mrs. Frederick'sfirst-born, Frederick Augustus Howard Stanley DevereuxBullock, was born, old Osborne, who was invited to thechristening and to be godfather, contented himself withsending the child a gold cup, with twenty guineas inside itfor the nurse. "That's more than any of your Lords willgive, I'll warrant," he said and refused to attend at theceremony.

　　The splendour of the gift, however, caused greatsatisfaction to the house of Bullock. Maria thought that herfather was very much pleased with her, and Frederickaugured the best for his little son and heir.

　　One can fancy the pangs with which Miss Osborne in hersolitude in Russell Square read the Morning Post, whereher sister's name occurred every now and then, in thearticles headed "Fashionable Reunions," and where she hadan opportunity of reading a description of Mrs. F. Bullock'scostume, when presented at the drawing room by LadyFrederica Bullock. Jane's own life, as we have said,admitted of no such grandeur. It was an awful existence.She had to get up of black winter's mornings to makebreakfast for her scowling old father, who would haveturned the whole house out of doors if his tea had not beenready at half-past eight. She remained silent opposite tohim, listening to the urn hissing, and sitting in tremorwhile the parent read his paper and consumed hisaccustomed portion of muffins and tea. At half-past ninehe rose and went to the City, and she was almost free tilldinner-time, to make visitations in the kitchen and to scoldthe servants; to drive abroad and descend upon thetradesmen, who were prodigiously respectful; to leave hercards and her papa's at the great glum respectable housesof their City friends; or to sit alone in the large drawing-room, expecting visitors; and working at a huge piece ofworsted by the fire, on the sofa, hard by the greatIphigenia clock, which ticked and tolled with mournfulloudness in the dreary room. The great glass over themantelpiece, faced by the other great console glass at theopposite end of the room, increased and multipliedbetween them the brown Holland bag in which thechandelier hung, until you saw these brown Holland bagsfading away in endless perspectives, and this apartment ofMiss Osborne's seemed the centre of a system ofdrawing-rooms. When she removed the cordovan leatherfrom the grand piano and ventured to play a few notes onit, it sounded with a mournful sadness, startling the dismalechoes of the house. George's picture was gone, and laidupstairs in a lumber-room in the garret; and though therewas a consciousness of him, and father and daughter ofteninstinctively knew that they were thinking of him, nomention was ever made of the brave and once darling son.

　　At five o'clock Mr. Osborne came back to his dinner, whichhe and his daughter took in silence (seldom broken, exceptwhen he swore and was savage, if the cooking was not tohis liking), or which they shared twice in a month with aparty of dismal friends of Osborne's rank and age. Old Dr.Gulp and his lady from Bloomsbury Square; old Mr.Frowser, the attorney, from Bedford Row, a very greatman, and from his business, hand-in-glove with the "nobsat the West End"; old Colonel Livermore, of the BombayArmy, and Mrs. Livermore, from Upper Bedford Place; oldSergeant Toffy and Mrs. Toffy; and sometimes old SirThomas Coffin and Lady Coffin, from Bedford Square. SirThomas was celebrated as a hanging judge, and theparticular tawny port was produced when he dined withMr. Osborne.

　　These people and their like gave the pompous RussellSquare merchant pompous dinners back again. They hadsolemn rubbers of whist, when they went upstairs afterdrinking, and their carriages were called at half past ten.Many rich people, whom we poor devils are in the habit ofenvying, lead contentedly an existence like that abovedescribed. Jane Osborne scarcely ever met a man undersixty, and almost the only bachelor who appeared in theirsociety was Mr. Smirk, the celebrated ladies' doctor.

　　I can't say that nothing had occurred to disturb themonotony of this awful existence: the fact is, there hadbeen a secret in poor Jane's life which had made her fathermore savage and morose than even nature, pride, andover-feeding had made him. This secret was connectedwith Miss Wirt, who had a cousin an artist, Mr. Smee, verycelebrated since as a portrait-painter and R.A., but whoonce was glad enough to give drawing lessons to ladies offashion. Mr. Smee has forgotten where Russell Square isnow, but he was glad enough to visit it in the year 1818,when Miss Osborne had instruction from him.

　　Smee (formerly a pupil of Sharpe of Frith Street, adissolute, irregular, and unsuccessful man, but a man withgreat knowledge of his art) being the cousin of Miss Wirt,we say, and introduced by her to Miss Osborne, whosehand and heart were still free after various incompletelove affairs, felt a great attachment for this lady, and it isbelieved inspired one in her bosom. Miss Wirt was theconfidante of this intrigue. I know not whether she used toleave the room where the master and his pupil werepainting, in order to give them an opportunity forexchanging those vows and sentiments which cannot beuttered advantageously in the presence of a third party; Iknow not whether she hoped that should her cousinsucceed in carrying off the rich merchant's daughter, hewould give Miss Wirt a portion of the wealth which shehad enabled him to win--all that is certain is that Mr.Osborne got some hint of the transaction, came back fromthe City abruptly, and entered the drawing-room with hisbamboo cane; found the painter, the pupil, and thecompanion all looking exceedingly pale there; turned theformer out of doors with menaces that he would breakevery bone in his skin, and half an hour afterwardsdismissed Miss Wirt likewise, kicking her trunks down thestairs, trampling on her bandboxes, and shaking his fist ather hackney coach as it bore her away.

　　Jane Osborne kept her bedroom for many days. She wasnot allowed to have a companion afterwards. Her fatherswore to her that she should not have a shilling of hismoney if she made any match without his concurrence;and as he wanted a woman to keep his house, he did notchoose that she should marry, so that she was obliged togive up all projects with which Cupid had any share.During her papa's life, then, she resigned herself to themanner of existence here described, and was content to bean old maid. Her sister, meanwhile, was having childrenwith finer names every year and the intercourse betweenthe two grew fainter continually. "Jane and I do not movein the same sphere of life," Mrs. Bullock said. "I regard heras a sister, of course"--which means--what does it meanwhen a lady says that she regards Jane as a sister?

　　It has been described how the Misses Dobbin lived withtheir father at a fine villa at Denmark Hill, where therewere beautiful graperies and peach-trees which delightedlittle Georgy Osborne. The Misses Dobbin, who drove oftento Brompton to see our dear Amelia, came sometimes toRussell Square too, to pay a visit to their old acquaintanceMiss Osborne. I believe it was in consequence of thecommands of their brother the Major in India (for whomtheir papa had a prodigious respect), that they paidattention to Mrs. George; for the Major, the godfather andguardian of Amelia's little boy, still hoped that the child'sgrandfather might be induced to relent towards him andacknowledge him for the sake of his son. The MissesDobbin kept Miss Osborne acquainted with the state ofAmelia's affairs; how she was living with her father andmother; how poor they were; how they wondered whatmen, and such men as their brother and dear CaptainOsborne, could find in such an insignificant little chit; howshe was still, as heretofore, a namby-pamby milk-and-water affected creature--but how the boy was really thenoblest little boy ever seen--for the hearts of all womenwarm towards young children, and the sourest spinster iskind to them.

　　One day, after great entreaties on the part of the MissesDobbin, Amelia allowed little George to go and pass a daywith them at Denmark Hill--a part of which day she spentherself in writing to the Major in India. She congratulatedhim on the happy news which his sisters had justconveyed to her. She prayed for his prosperity and that ofthe bride he had chosen. She thanked him for a thousandthousand kind offices and proofs of stead fast friendship toher in her affliction. She told him the last news about littleGeorgy, and how he was gone to spend that very day withhis sisters in the country. She underlined the letter a greatdeal, and she signed herself affectionately his friend,Amelia Osborne. She forgot to send any message ofkindness to Lady O'Dowd, as her wont was--and did notmention Glorvina by name, and only in italics, as theMajor's bride, for whom she begged blessings. But thenews of the marriage removed the reserve which she hadkept up towards him. She was glad to be able to own andfeel how warmly and gratefully she regarded him--and asfor the idea of being jealous of Glorvina (Glorvina, indeed!),Amelia would have scouted it, if an angel from heaven hadhinted it to her. That night, when Georgy came back in thepony-carriage in which he rejoiced, and in which he wasdriven by Sir Wm. Dobbin's old coachman, he had roundhis neck a fine gold chain and watch. He said an old lady,not pretty, had given it him, who cried and kissed him agreat deal. But he didn't like her. He liked grapes verymuch. And he only liked his mamma. Amelia shrank andstarted; the timid soul felt a presentiment of terror whenshe heard that the relations of the child's father had seenhim.

　　Miss Osborne came back to give her father his dinner. Hehad made a good speculation in the City, and was rather ina good humour that day, and chanced to remark theagitation under which she laboured. "What's the matter,Miss Osborne?" he deigned to say.

　　The woman burst into tears. "Oh, sir," she said, "I've seenlittle George. He is as beautiful as an angel--and so likehim!" The old man opposite to her did not say a word, butflushed up and began to tremble in every limb.