Chapter XXIV: In Which Mr. Osborne Takes Down the Family Bible

by William Makepeace Thackeray

　　So having prepared the sisters, Dobbin hastened awayto the City to perform the rest and more difficult partof the task which he had undertaken. The idea of facingold Osborne rendered him not a little nervous, and morethan once he thought of leaving the young ladies tocommunicate the secret, which, as he was aware, they couldnot long retain. But he had promised to report to Georgeupon the manner in which the elder Osborne bore theintelligence; so going into the City to the paternalcounting-house in Thames Street, he despatched thencea note to Mr. Osborne begging for a half-hour's conversationrelative to the affairs of his son George. Dobbin's messengerreturned from Mr. Osborne's house of business, with thecompliments of the latter, who would be very happy to see theCaptain immediately, and away accordingly Dobbin wentto confront him.

　　The Captain, with a half-guilty secret to confess, andwith the prospect of a painful and stormy interviewbefore him, entered Mr. Osborne's offices with a mostdismal countenance and abashed gait, and, passing throughthe outer room where Mr. Chopper presided, was greetedby that functionary from his desk with a waggish airwhich farther discomfited him. Mr. Chopper winked andnodded and pointed his pen towards his patron's door,and said, "You'll find the governor all right," with themost provoking good humour.

　　Osborne rose too, and shook him heartily by the hand,and said, "How do, my dear boy?" with a cordiality thatmade poor George's ambassador feel doubly guilty. Hishand lay as if dead in the old gentleman's grasp. He feltthat he, Dobbin, was more or less the cause of all thathad happened. It was he had brought back George toAmelia: it was he had applauded, encouraged, transactedalmost the marriage which he was come to reveal toGeorge's father: and the latter was receiving him withsmiles of welcome; patting him on the shoulder, and callinghim "Dobbin, my dear boy." The envoy had indeedgood reason to hang his head.

　　Osborne fully believed that Dobbin had come toannounce his son's surrender. Mr. Chopper and hisprincipal were talking over the matter between George andhis father, at the very moment when Dobbin's messengerarrived. Both agreed that George was sending in hissubmission. Both had been expecting it for some days--and"Lord! Chopper, what a marriage we'll have!" Mr.Osborne said to his clerk, snapping his big fingers, andjingling all the guineas and shillings in his great pocketsas he eyed his subordinate with a look of triumph.

　　With similar operations conducted in both pockets,and a knowing jolly air, Osborne from his chair regardedDobbin seated blank and silent opposite to him. "Whata bumpkin he is for a Captain in the army," old Osbornethought. "I wonder George hasn't taught him bettermanners."

　　At last Dobbin summoned courage to begin. "Sir," saidhe, "I've brought you some very grave news. I have beenat the Horse Guards this morning, and there's no doubtthat our regiment will be ordered abroad, and on itsway to Belgium before the week is over. And you know,sir, that we shan't be home again before a tussle whichmay be fatal to many of us."

　　Osborne looked grave. "My s-- , the regiment willdo its duty, sir, I daresay," he said.

　　"The French are very strong, sir," Dobbin went on."The Russians and Austrians will be a long time beforethey can bring their troops down. We shall have the firstof the fight, sir; and depend on it Boney will take carethat it shall be a hard one."

　　"What are you driving at, Dobbin?" his interlocutorsaid, uneasy and with a scowl. "I suppose no Briton'safraid of any d-- Frenchman, hey?"

　　"I only mean, that before we go, and considering thegreat and certain risk that hangs over every one of us--if there are any differences between you and George--itwould be as well, sir, that--that you should shake hands:wouldn't it? Should anything happen to him, I think youwould never forgive yourself if you hadn't parted incharity."

　　As he said this, poor William Dobbin blushed crimson,and felt and owned that he himself was a traitor. Butfor him, perhaps, this severance need never have takenplace. Why had not George's marriage been delayed?What call was there to press it on so eagerly? He felt thatGeorge would have parted from Amelia at any rate withouta mortal pang. Amelia, too, might have recovered theshock of losing him. It was his counsel had broughtabout this marriage, and all that was to ensue from it.And why was it? Because he loved her so much that hecould not bear to see her unhappy: or because his ownsufferings of suspense were so unendurable that he wasglad to crush them at once--as we hasten a funeralafter a death, or, when a separation from those we loveis imminent, cannot rest until the parting be over.

　　"You are a good fellow, William," said Mr. Osborne ina softened voice; "and me and George shouldn't part inanger, that is true. Look here. I've done for him asmuch as any father ever did. He's had three times asmuch money from me, as I warrant your father evergave you. But I don't brag about that. How I've toiledfor him, and worked and employed my talents and energy,I won't say. Ask Chopper. Ask himself. Ask the City ofLondon. Well, I propose to him such a marriage as anynobleman in the land might be proud of--the only thingin life I ever asked him--and he refuses me. Am I wrong?Is the quarrel of my making? What do I seek but hisgood, for which I've been toiling like a convict ever sincehe was born? Nobody can say there's anything selfish inme. Let him come back. I say, here's my hand. I say,forget and forgive. As for marrying now, it's out of thequestion. Let him and Miss S. make it up, and make out themarriage afterwards, when he comes back a Colonel;for he shall be a Colonel, by G-- he shall, if moneycan do it. I'm glad you've brought him round. I know it'syou, Dobbin. You've took him out of many a scrapebefore. Let him come. I shan't be hard. Come along, anddine in Russell Square to-day: both of you. The old shop,the old hour. You'll find a neck of venison, and noquestions asked."

　　This praise and confidence smote Dobbin's heart verykeenly. Every moment the colloquy continued in thistone, he felt more and more guilty. "Sir," said he, "Ifear you deceive yourself. I am sure you do. George ismuch too high-minded a man ever to marry for money. Athreat on your part that you would disinherit him incase of disobedience would only be followed by resistanceon his."

　　"Why, hang it, man, you don't call offering him eightor ten thousand a year threatening him?'' Mr. Osbornesaid, with still provoking good humour. "'Gad, if MissS. will have me, I'm her man. I ain't particular about ashade or so of tawny." And the old gentleman gave hisknowing grin and coarse laugh.

　　"You forget, sir, previous engagements into whichCaptain Osborne had entered," the ambassador said, gravely.

　　"What engagements? What the devil do you mean?You don't mean," Mr. Osborne continued, gatheringwrath and astonishment as the thought now first cameupon him; "you don't mean that he's such a d-- foolas to be still hankering after that swindling old bankrupt'sdaughter? You've not come here for to make mesuppose that he wants to marry her? Marry her, that isa good one. My son and heir marry a beggar's girl out ofa gutter. D-- him, if he does, let him buy a broomand sweep a crossing. She was always dangling and oglingafter him, I recollect now; and I've no doubt she wasput on by her old sharper of a father."

　　"Mr. Sedley was your very good friend, sir," Dobbininterposed, almost pleased at finding himself growingangry. "Time was you called him better names thanrogue and swindler. The match was of your making.George had no right to play fast and loose--"

　　"Fast and loose!" howled out old Osborne. "Fast andloose! Why, hang me, those are the very words mygentleman used himself when he gave himself airs, lastThursday was a fortnight, and talked about the British armyto his father who made him. What, it's you who havebeen a setting of him up--is it? and my service to you,captain. It's you who want to introduce beggars into myfamily. Thank you for nothing, Captain. Marry her indeed--he, he! why should he? I warrant you she'd go to himfast enough without."

　　"Sir," said Dobbin, starting up in undisguised anger;"no man shall abuse that lady in my hearing, and youleast of all."

　　"O, you're a-going to call me out, are you? Stop, let mering the bell for pistols for two. Mr. George sent youhere to insult his father, did he?" Osborne said, pullingat the bell-cord.

　　"Mr. Osborne," said Dobbin, with a faltering voice,"it's you who are insulting the best creature in the world.You had best spare her, sir, for she's your son's wife."

　　And with this, feeling that he could say no more, Dobbinwent away, Osborne sinking back in his chair, andlooking wildly after him. A clerk came in, obedient to thebell; and the Captain was scarcely out of the court whereMr. Osborne's offices were, when Mr. Chopper the chiefclerk came rushing hatless after him.

　　"For God's sake, what is it?" Mr. Chopper said, catchingthe Captain by the skirt. "The governor's in a fit.What has Mr. George been doing?"

　　"He married Miss Sedley five days ago," Dobbin replied."I was his groomsman, Mr. Chopper, and you muststand his friend."

　　The old clerk shook his head. "If that's your news,Captain, it's bad. The governor will never forgive him."

　　Dobbin begged Chopper to report progress to him atthe hotel where he was stopping, and walked off moodilywestwards, greatly perturbed as to the past and thefuture.

　　When the Russell Square family came to dinner thatevening, they found the father of the house seated in hisusual place, but with that air of gloom on his face, which,whenever it appeared there, kept the whole circle silent.The ladies, and Mr. Bullock who dined with them, feltthat the news had been communicated to Mr. Osborne.His dark looks affected Mr. Bullock so far as to renderhim still and quiet: but he was unusually bland andattentive to Miss Maria, by whom he sat, and to her sisterpresiding at the head of the table.

　　Miss Wirt, by consequence, was alone on her side ofthe board, a gap being left between her and Miss JaneOsborne. Now this was George's place when he dined athome; and his cover, as we said, was laid for him inexpectation of that truant's return. Nothing occurredduring dinner-time except smiling Mr. Frederick's flaggingconfidential whispers, and the clinking of plate and china,to interrupt the silence of the repast. The servants wentabout stealthily doing their duty. Mutes at funerals couldnot look more glum than the domestics of Mr. OsborneThe neck of venison of which he had invited Dobbin topartake, was carved by him in perfect silence; but hisown share went away almost untasted, though he drankmuch, and the butler assiduously filled his glass.

　　At last, just at the end of the dinner, his eyes, whichhad been staring at everybody in turn, fixed themselvesfor a while upon the plate laid for George. He pointedto it presently with his left hand. His daughters looked athim and did not comprehend, or choose to comprehend,the signal; nor did the servants at first understand it.

　　"Take that plate away," at last he said, getting up withan oath--and with this pushing his chair back, he walkedinto his own room.

　　Behind Mr. Osborne's dining-room was the usualapartment which went in his house by the name of thestudy; and was sacred to the master of the house. HitherMr. Osborne would retire of a Sunday forenoon whennot minded to go to church; and here pass the morningin his crimson leather chair, reading the paper. A coupleof glazed book-cases were here, containing standardworks in stout gilt bindings. The "Annual Register," the"Gentleman's Magazine," "Blair's Sermons," and "Humeand Smollett." From year's end to year's end he nevertook one of these volumes from the shelf; but there wasno member of the family that would dare for his life totouch one of the books, except upon those rare Sundayevenings when there was no dinner-party, and when thegreat scarlet Bible and Prayer-book were taken out fromthe corner where they stood beside his copy of the Peerage,and the servants being rung up to the dining parlour,Osborne read the evening service to his family in aloud grating pompous voice. No member of the household,child, or domestic, ever entered that room withouta certain terror. Here he checked the housekeeper's accounts,and overhauled the butler's cellar-book. Hence hecould command, across the clean gravel court-yard, theback entrance of the stables with which one of his bellscommunicated, and into this yard the coachman issuedfrom his premises as into a dock, and Osborne swore athim from the study window. Four times a year MissWirt entered this apartment to get her salary; and hisdaughters to receive their quarterly allowance. Georgeas a boy had been horsewhipped in this room manytimes; his mother sitting sick on the stair listening to thecuts of the whip. The boy was scarcely ever known tocry under the punishment; the poor woman used tofondle and kiss him secretly, and give him money tosoothe him when he came out.

　　There was a picture of the family over the mantelpiece,removed thither from the front room after Mrs. Osborne'sdeath--George was on a pony, the elder sisterholding him up a bunch of flowers; the younger led byher mother's hand; all with red cheeks and large redmouths, simpering on each other in the approved family-portrait manner. The mother lay underground now, longsince forgotten--the sisters and brother had a hundreddifferent interests of their own, and, familiar still, wereutterly estranged from each other. Some few score ofyears afterwards, when all the parties represented aregrown old, what bitter satire there is in those flauntingchildish family-portraits, with their farce of sentiment andsmiling lies, and innocence so self-conscious and self-satisfied. Osborne's own state portrait, with that of hisgreat silver inkstand and arm-chair, had taken the placeof honour in the dining-room, vacated by the family-piece.

　　To this study old Osborne retired then, greatly to therelief of the small party whom he left. When theservants had withdrawn, they began to talk for a whilevolubly but very low; then they went upstairs quietly,Mr. Bullock accompanying them stealthily on his creakingshoes. He had no heart to sit alone drinking wine,and so close to the terrible old gentleman in the studyhard at hand.

　　An hour at least after dark, the butler, not havingreceived any summons, ventured to tap at his door andtake him in wax candles and tea. The master of thehouse sate in his chair, pretending to read the paper,and when the servant, placing the lights and refreshmenton the table by him, retired, Mr. Osborne got up andlocked the door after him. This time there was no mistakingthe matter; all the household knew that some greatcatastrophe was going to happen which was likely direlyto affect Master George.

　　In the large shining mahogany escritoire Mr. Osbornehad a drawer especially devoted to his son's affairs andpapers. Here he kept all the documents relating to himever since he had been a boy: here were his prize copy-books and drawing-books, all bearing George's hand,and that of the master: here were his first letters in largeround-hand sending his love to papa and mamma, andconveying his petitions for a cake. His dear godpapaSedley was more than once mentioned in them. Cursesquivered on old Osborne's livid lips, and horrid hatredand disappointment writhed in his heart, as lookingthrough some of these papers he came on that name.They were all marked and docketed, and tied with red tape.It was--From Georgy, requesting 5s., April 23, 18--;answered, April 25"--or "Georgy about a pony, October13"--and so forth. In another packet were "Dr. S.'s accounts"--"G.'s tailor's bills and outfits, drafts on me byG. Osborne, jun.," &c.--his letters from the West Indies--his agent's letters, and the newspapers containing hiscommissions: here was a whip he had when a boy, and ina paper a locket containing his hair, which his motherused to wear.

　　Turning one over after another, and musing over thesememorials, the unhappy man passed many hours. Hisdearest vanities, ambitious hopes, had all been here. Whatpride he had in his boy! He was the handsomest childever seen. Everybody said he was like a nobleman'sson. A royal princess had remarked him, and kissedhim, and asked his name in Kew Gardens. What Cityman could show such another? Could a prince have beenbetter cared for? Anything that money could buy hadbeen his son's. He used to go down on speech-days withfour horses and new liveries, and scatter new shillingsamong the boys at the school where George was: whenhe went with George to the depot of his regiment, beforethe boy embarked for Canada, he gave the officerssuch a dinner as the Duke of York might have sat downto. Had he ever refused a bill when George drew one?There they were--paid without a word. Many a generalin the army couldn't ride the horses he had! He had thechild before his eyes, on a hundred different days whenhe remembered George after dinner, when he usedto come in as bold as a lord and drink off his glass byhis father's side, at the head of the table--on the ponyat Brighton, when he cleared the hedge and kept up withthe huntsman--on the day when he was presented tothe Prince Regent at the levee, when all Saint James'scouldn't produce a finer young fellow. And this, this wasthe end of all!--to marry a bankrupt and fly in the faceof duty and fortune! What humiliation and fury: whatpangs of sickening rage, balked ambition and love; whatwounds of outraged vanity, tenderness even, had thisold worldling now to suffer under!

　　Having examined these papers, and pondered over thisone and the other, in that bitterest of all helpless woe,with which miserable men think of happy past times--George's father took the whole of the documents out ofthe drawer in which he had kept them so long, and lockedthem into a writing-box, which he tied, and sealed withhis seal. Then he opened the book-case, and took downthe great red Bible we have spoken of a pompousbook, seldom looked at, and shining all over with gold.There was a frontispiece to the volume, representingAbraham sacrificing Isaac. Here, according to custom,Osborne had recorded on the fly-leaf, and in his largeclerk-like hand, the dates of his marriage and his wife'sdeath, and the births and Christian names of his children.Jane came first, then George Sedley Osborne, then MariaFrances, and the days of the christening of each. Takinga pen, he carefully obliterated George's names fromthe page; and when the leaf was quite dry, restored thevolume to the place from which he had moved it. Thenhe took a document out of another drawer, where hisown private papers were kept; and having read it, crumpledit up and lighted it at one of the candles, and saw itburn entirely away in the grate. It was his will; whichbeing burned, he sate down and wrote off a letter, andrang for his servant, whom he charged to deliver it in themorning. It was morning already: as he went up to bed,the whole house was alight with the sunshine; and thebirds were singing among the fresh green leaves inRussell Square.

　　Anxious to keep all Mr. Osborne's family and dependantsin good humour, and to make as many friends aspossible for George in his hour of adversity, William Dobbin,who knew the effect which good dinners and goodwines have upon the soul of man, wrote off immediatelyon his return to his inn the most hospitable of invitationsto Thomas Chopper, Esquire, begging that gentleman todine with him at the Slaughters' next day. The notereached Mr. Chopper before he left the City, and theinstant reply was, that "Mr. Chopper presents hisrespectful compliments, and will have the honour andpleasure of waiting on Captain D." The invitation and therough draft of the answer were shown to Mrs. Chopperand her daughters on his return to Somers' Town thatevening, and they talked about military gents and WestEnd men with great exultation as the family sate andpartook of tea. When the girls had gone to rest, Mr. andMrs. C. discoursed upon the strange events which wereoccurring in the governor's family. Never had the clerkseen his principal so moved. When he went in to Mr.Osborne, after Captain Dobbin's departure, Mr. Chopperfound his chief black in the face, and all but in a fit:some dreadful quarrel, he was certain, had occurredbetween Mr. O. and the young Captain. Chopper had beeninstructed to make out an account of all sums paid toCaptain Osborne within the last three years. "And aprecious lot of money he has had too," the chief clerk said,and respected his old and young master the more, forthe liberal way in which the guineas had been flung about.The dispute was something about Miss Sedley. Mrs.Chopper vowed and declared she pitied that poor younglady to lose such a handsome young fellow as the Capting.As the daughter of an unlucky speculator, who had paid avery shabby dividend, Mr. Chopper had no great regardfor Miss Sedley. He respected the house of Osbornebefore all others in the City of London: and his hope andwish was that Captain George should marry a nobleman'sdaughter. The clerk slept a great deal sounder thanhis principal that night; and, cuddling his children afterbreakfast (of which he partook with a very heartyappetite, though his modest cup of life was onlysweetened with brown sugar), he set off in his best Sundaysuit and frilled shirt for business, promising his admiringwife not to punish Captain D.'s port too severely thatevening.

　　Mr. Osborne's countenance, when he arrived in theCity at his usual time, struck those dependants who wereaccustomed, for good reasons, to watch its expression,as peculiarly ghastly and worn. At twelve o'clock Mr.Higgs (of the firm of Higgs & Blatherwick, solicitors,Bedford Row) called by appointment, and was usheredinto the governor's private room, and closeted there formore than an hour. At about one Mr. Chopperreceived a note brought by Captain Dobbin's man, andcontaining an inclosure for Mr. Osborne, which the clerkwent in and delivered. A short time afterwards Mr.Chopper and Mr. Birch, the next clerk, were summoned, andrequested to witness a paper. "I've been making a newwill," Mr. Osborne said, to which these gentlemenappended their names accordingly. No conversationpassed. Mr. Higgs looked exceedingly grave as he cameinto the outer rooms, and very hard in Mr. Chopper'sface; but there were not any explanations. It wasremarked that Mr. Osborne was particularly quiet andgentle all day, to the surprise of those who had augured illfrom his darkling demeanour. He called no man namesthat day, and was not heard to swear once. He left businessearly; and before going away, summoned his chiefclerk once more, and having given him general instructions,asked him, after some seeming hesitation and reluctanceto speak, if he knew whether Captain Dobbin was in town?

　　Chopper said he believed he was. Indeed both of themknew the fact perfectly.

　　Osborne took a letter directed to that officer, andgiving it to the clerk, requested the latter to deliver itinto Dobbin's own hands immediately.

　　"And now, Chopper," says he, taking his hat, and witha strange look, "my mind will be easy." Exactly as theclock struck two (there was no doubt an appointmentbetween the pair) Mr. Frederick Bullock called, and heand Mr. Osborne walked away together.

　　The Colonel of the --th regiment, in which MessieursDobbin and Osborne had companies, was an old Generalwho had made his first campaign under Wolfe at Quebec,and was long since quite too old and feeble for command;but he took some interest in the regiment of whichhe was the nominal head, and made certain of his youngofficers welcome at his table, a kind of hospitalitywhich I believe is not now common amongst hisbrethren. Captain Dobbin was an especial favouriteof this old General. Dobbin was versed in the literatureof his profession, and could talk about the great Frederick,and the Empress Queen, and their wars, almost as wellas the General himself, who was indifferent to the triumphsof the present day, and whose heart was with thetacticians of fifty years back. This officer sent a summonsto Dobbin to come and breakfast with him, on themorning when Mr. Osborne altered his will and Mr. Chopperput on his best shirt frill, and then informed his youngfavourite, a couple of days in advance, of that which theywere all expecting--a marching order to go to Belgium.The order for the regiment to hold itself in readinesswould leave the Horse Guards in a day or two; and astransports were in plenty, they would get their routebefore the week was over. Recruits had come in duringthe stay of the regiment at Chatham; and the old Generalhoped that the regiment which had helped to beatMontcalm in Canada, and to rout Mr. Washington onLong Island, would prove itself worthy of its historicalreputation on the oft-trodden battle-grounds of the LowCountries. "And so, my good friend, if you have anyaffaire la, said the old General, taking a pinch of snuffwith his trembling white old hand, and then pointing tothe spot of his robe de chambre under which his heartwas still feebly beating, "if you have any Phillis to console,or to bid farewell to papa and mamma, or any willto make, I recommend you to set about your businesswithout delay." With which the General gave his youngfriend a finger to shake, and a good-natured nod of hispowdered and pigtailed head; and the door being closedupon Dobbin, sate down to pen a poulet (he wasexceedingly vain of his French) to MademoiselleAmenaide of His Majesty's Theatre.

　　This news made Dobbin grave, and he thought of ourfriends at Brighton, and then he was ashamed of himselfthat Amelia was always the first thing in his thoughts(always before anybody--before father and mother,sisters and duty--always at waking and sleeping indeed,and all day long); and returning to his hotel, he sent off abrief note to Mr. Osborne acquainting him with theinformation which he had received, and which might tendfarther, he hoped, to bring about a reconciliation withGeorge.

　　This note, despatched by the same messenger who hadcarried the invitation to Chopper on the previous day,alarmed the worthy clerk not a little. It was inclosed tohim, and as he opened the letter he trembled lest thedinner should be put off on which he was calculating. Hismind was inexpressibly relieved when he found that theenvelope was only a reminder for himself. ("I shallexpect you at half-past five," Captain Dobbin wrote.) He wasvery much interested about his employer's family; but,que voulez-vous? a grand dinner was of more concern tohim than the affairs of any other mortal.

　　Dobbin was quite justified in repeating the General'sinformation to any officers of the regiment whom heshould see in the course of his peregrinations; accordinglyhe imparted it to Ensign Stubble, whom he met at theagent's, and who--such was his military ardour--wentoff instantly to purchase a new sword at theaccoutrement-maker's. Here this young fellow, who,though only seventeen years of age, and about sixty-fiveinches high, with a constitution naturally rickety andmuch impaired by premature brandy and water, had anundoubted courage and a lion's heart, poised, tried, bent,and balanced a weapon such as he thought would do execution amongst Frenchmen. Shouting "Ha, ha!" and stamping his littlefeet with tremendous energy, he delivered the point twiceor thrice at Captain Dobbin, who parried the thrustlaughingly with his bamboo walking-stick.

　　Mr. Stubble, as may be supposed from his size andslenderness, was of the Light Bobs. Ensign Spooney, onthe contrary, was a tall youth, and belonged to (CaptainDobbin's) the Grenadier Company, and he tried on a newbearskin cap, under which he looked savage beyond hisyears. Then these two lads went off to the Slaughters', andhaving ordered a famous dinner, sate down and wrote offletters to the kind anxious parents at home--letters full oflove and heartiness, and pluck and bad spelling. Ah! therewere many anxious hearts beating through England atthat time; and mothers' prayers and tears flowing in manyhomesteads.

　　Seeing young Stubble engaged in composition at one ofthe coffee-room tables at the Slaughters', and the tearstrickling down his nose on to the paper (for the youngsterwas thinking of his mamma, and that he might never seeher again), Dobbin, who was going to write off a letter toGeorge Osborne, relented, and locked up his desk. "Whyshould I?" said he. "Let her have this night happy. I'll goand see my parents early in the morning, and go down toBrighton myself to-morrow."

　　So he went up and laid his big hand on young Stubble'sshoulder, and backed up that young champion, and toldhim if he would leave off brandy and water he wouldbe a good soldier, as he always was a gentlemanly good-hearted fellow. Young Stubble's eyes brightened up at this,for Dobbin was greatly respected in the regiment, as thebest officer and the cleverest man in it.

　　"Thank you, Dobbin," he said, rubbing his eyes withhis knuckles, "I was just--just telling her I would. And,O Sir, she's so dam kind to me." The water pumps wereat work again, and I am not sure that the soft-heartedCaptain's eyes did not also twinkle.

　　The two ensigns, the Captain, and Mr. Chopper, dinedtogether in the same box. Chopper brought the letter fromMr. Osborne, in which the latter briefly presented hiscompliments to Captain Dobbin, and requested him toforward the inclosed to Captain George Osborne. Chopperknew nothing further; he described Mr. Osborne's appearance,it is true, and his interview with his lawyer, wonderedhow the governor had sworn at nobody, and--especiallyas the wine circled round--abounded in speculationsand conjectures. But these grew more vague withevery glass, and at length became perfectly unintelligible.At a late hour Captain Dobbin put his guest into a hackneycoach, in a hiccupping state, and swearing that he wouldbe the kick--the kick--Captain's friend for ever and ever.

　　When Captain Dobbin took leave of Miss Osborne wehave said that he asked leave to come and pay heranother visit, and the spinster expected him for some hoursthe next day, when, perhaps, had he come, and had heasked her that question which she was prepared to answer,she would have declared herself as her brother'sfriend, and a reconciliation might have been effectedbetween George and his angry father. But though she waitedat home the Captain never came. He had his own affairsto pursue; his own parents to visit and console; and at anearly hour of the day to take his place on the Lightningcoach, and go down to his friends at Brighton. In thecourse of the day Miss Osborne heard her father giveorders that that meddling scoundrel, Captain Dobbin,should never be admitted within his doors again, and anyhopes in which she may have indulged privately were thusabruptly brought to an end. Mr. Frederick Bullock came,and was particularly affectionate to Maria, and attentiveto the broken-spirited old gentleman. For though he saidhis mind would be easy, the means which he had taken tosecure quiet did not seem to have succeeded as yet, andthe events of the past two days had visibly shattered him.