A very stout, puffy man was reading the paper by the fire when the two girls entered, and bounced off his arm-chair, and blushed excessively.
“It’s only your sister, Joseph,” said Amelia, laughing and shaking the two fingers which he held out. “I’ve come home for good, you know; and this is my friend, Miss Sharp, whom you have heard me mention.”
“No, never, upon my word,” said Joseph, shaking very much – ”that is, yes – what abominably cold weather, Miss.”
“He’s very handsome,” whispered Rebecca to Amelia, rather loud.
“Do you think so?” said the latter. “I’ll tell him.”
“Thank you for the beautiful shawls, brother,” said Amelia to the her brother. “Are they not beautiful, Rebecca?”
“O heavenly!” said Miss Sharp, and her eyes went from the carpet straight to the chandelier.
“I can’t make you such handsome presents, Joseph,” continued his sister, “but while I was at school, I have embroidered for you a very beautiful pair of braces.”
“Good Gad! Amelia,” cried the brother, in serious alarm.
“For heaven’s sake see if my buggy’s at the door. I CAN’T wait. I must go.”
At this minute the father of the family walked in. “What’s the matter, Emmy?”
says he.
“Joseph wants me to see if his – his buggy is at the door. What is a buggy, Papa?”
“It is a one-horse palanquin,” said the old gentleman.
Joseph at this burst out into a wild fit of laughter; in which, encountering the eye of Miss Sharp, he stopped all of a sudden, as if he had been shot.
“This young lady is your friend? Miss Sharp, I am very happy to see you. Have you and Emmy been quarrelling 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 dine here?”
“But in this dress it’s impossible.”
“Look at him, isn’t he handsome enough to dine anywhere, Miss Sharp?”
On which, of course, Miss Sharp looked at her friend, and they both set off in a fit of laughter, highly agreeable to the old gentleman.
“Come, come, sir, walk downstairs with Miss Sharp, and I will follow with these two young women,” said the father, and he took an arm of wife and daughter and walked merrily off.
I don’t think, ladies, we have any right to blame Miss Rebecca Sharp; for though the task of husband hunting is generally entrusted by young persons to their mammas, remember that Miss Sharp had no kind parent and that if she did not get a husband for herself, there was no one else in the wide world who would take the trouble off her hands. She had a vivid imagination: and after she had asked Amelia whether her brother was very rich, she had built for herself a most magnificent castle in the air, of which she was mistress, with a husband somewhere in the background.
Joseph Sedley was twelve years older than his sister Amelia. He was in the East India Company’s Civil Service as a collector. He had lived for about eight years of his life, quite alone, at this charming place. Luckily, at this time he caught a liver complaint, for the cure of which he returned to Europe. He did not live with his family while in London, but had lodgings of his own. But he was as lonely here as in his jungle. He scarcely knew a single soul in the metropolis. He was lazy, peevish, and a bon-vivant; the appearance of a lady frightened him beyond measure. His bulk caused Joseph much anxious thought and alarm; now and then he would make a desperate attempt to get rid of his fat. He never was well dressed; but he took the hugest pains to adorn his big person. His valet made a fortune out of his wardrobe. Like most fat men, he would have his clothes made too tight, and took care they should be of the most brilliant colours and youthful cut. He was as vain as a girl; and perhaps his extreme shyness was one of the results of his extreme vanity.
Rebecca’s first move showed considerable skill. Perhaps, too, Joseph Sedley would overhear the compliment – Rebecca spoke loud enough – and he did hear, and (thinking in his heart that he was a very fine man) the praise thrilled through every fibre of his big body. He conducted the young lady down to 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 talked of Joseph Sedley being as vain as a girl. Downstairs, then, they went, Joseph very red and blushing,
Rebecca very modest, and holding her green eyes downwards. She was dressed in white, with bare shoulders as white as snow – the picture of youth, unprotected innocence.
“I must be very quiet,” thought Rebecca, “and very much interested about India.”
Now we have heard how Mrs. Sedley had prepared a fine curry for her son, just as he liked it, and in the course of dinner a portion of this dish was offered to Rebecca. “What is it?” said she, turning an appealing look to Mr. Joseph.
“Capital,” said he. His mouth was full of it: his face quite red. “Mother, it’s as good as my own curries in India.”
“Oh, I must try some, if it is an Indian dish,” said Miss Rebecca.
“I am sure everything must be good that comes 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 suffering tortures with the cayenne pepper.
“Try a chili with it, Miss Sharp,” said Joseph, really interested.
“A chili,” said Rebecca, gasping. “Oh yes!” She thought a chili was something cool and was served with some. “How fresh and green they look,” she said, and put one into her mouth. It was hotter than the curry; flesh and blood could bear it no longer. She laid down her fork. “Water, for Heaven’s sake, water!” she cried. Mr. Sedley burst out laughing.
“They are real Indian, I assure you,” said he. “Sambo, give Miss Sharp some water.”
The paternal laugh was echoed by Joseph, who thought the joke capital. The ladies only smiled a little. They thought poor Rebecca suffered too much.
“You won’t like EVERYTHING from India now, Miss Sharp,” said the old gentleman; but when the ladies had retired 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.
Later he thought a great deal about the girl upstairs. “A nice, gay, merry young creature,” thought he to himself. “How she looked at me when I picked up her handkerchief at dinner! She dropped it twice. Who’s that singing in the drawing-room? ’Gad! shall I go up and see?”
But his modesty came rushing upon him with uncontrollable force. And he slipped away gently on the pointed toes of his boots, and disappeared.
“There goes Joseph,” said Amelia, who was looking from the open windows of the drawing-room, while Rebecca was singing at the piano.
“Miss Sharp has frightened him away,” said Mrs. Sedley. “Poor Joe, why WILL he be so shy?”
Poor Joe’s panic lasted for two or three days; during which he did not visit the house, nor during that period did Miss Rebecca ever mention his name. She was all respectful gratitude to Mrs. Sedley, in a whirl of wonder at the theatre, where the good-natured lady took her. One day, Amelia had a headache, and could not go upon some party of pleasure to which the two young people were invited: nothing could induce her friend to go without her. “What! you who have shown the poor orphan what happiness and love are for the first time in her life – quit YOU?
Never!” and the green eyes looked up to Heaven and filled with tears; and Mrs. Sedley could not but own that her daughter’s friend had a charming kind heart.
As for Mr. Sedley’s jokes, Rebecca laughed at them with a cordiality which pleased and softened that good-natured gentleman. Once, in looking over some drawings which Amelia had sent from school, Rebecca suddenly came upon one which caused her to burst into tears and leave the room. It was on the day when Joe Sedley made his second appearance. Amelia hastened after her friend to know the cause of this and the good-natured girl came back without her companion, rather affected too. “You know, her father was our drawing-master, Mamma, at Chiswick, and used to do all the best parts of our drawings.”
“My love! I’m sure I always heard Miss Pinkerton say that he did not touch them – he only mounted them.”
“It was called mounting, Mamma. Rebecca remembers the drawing, and her father working at it, – and so, you know, she – ”
“The poor child is all heart,” said Mrs. Sedley.
“I wish she could stay with us another week,” said Amelia.
“O Joseph,” said Amelia, “Persuade Mamma to write to Sir Something Crawley for leave of absence for poor dear Rebecca: here she comes, her eyes red with weeping.”
“I’m better, now,” said the girl, with the sweetest smile possible, taking good-natured Mrs. Sedley’s hand and kissing it respectfully. “How kind you all are to me! All,” she added, with a laugh, “except you, Mr. Joseph.”
“Me!” said Joseph, “Gracious Heavens! Miss Sharp!”
“Yes; how could you be so cruel as to make me eat that horrid pepper-dish at dinner, the first day I ever saw you? You are not so good to me as dear Amelia.”
“He doesn’t know you so well,” cried Amelia.
“I shall take care how I let YOU choose for me another time,” said Rebecca, as they went down again to dinner. “I didn’t think men were fond of putting poor harmless girls to pain.”
“By Gad, Miss Rebecca, I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”
“No,” said she, “I KNOW you wouldn’t”; and then she gave him ever so gentle a pressure with her little hand, and drew it back quite frightened, and looked first for one instant in his face, and then down at the carpet-rods; and I am not prepared to say that Joe’s heart did not thump at this timid, gentle motion of regard on the part of the simple girl.
As if bent upon advancing Rebecca’s plans in every way – what must Amelia do, but remind her brother of a promise made last Easter holidays – ”When I was a girl at school,” said she, laughing – a promise that he, Joseph, would take her
to Vauxhall. “Now,” she said, “that Rebecca is with us, will be the very time.”
“O, delightful!” said Rebecca, going to clap her hands; but she recollected herself, and paused, like a modest creature, as she was.
“Tonight is not the night,” said Joe.
“Well, tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow your Papa and I dine out,” said Mrs. Sedley.
“Let Joe go,” said his father, laughing. “The girls must have a gentleman,” said the old gentleman.
“Jos will be sure to leave Emmy in the crowd, he will be so taken up with Miss Sharp here. Ask George Osborne if he’ll come.”
At this Mrs. Sedley looked at her husband and laughed. Amelia, hanging down her head, blushed as only young ladies of seventeen know how to blush. “Amelia had better write a note,” said her father; “and let George Osborne see what a beautiful handwriting we have brought back from Miss Pinkerton’s.”
On the evening appointed for the Vauxhall party, George Osborne having come to dinner, and the elders of the house having departed, there came on such a thunder-storm as only happens on Vauxhall nights, and as obliged the young people, perforce, to remain at home. Osborne was Sedley’s godson, and had been one of the family any time these three-and-twenty years. “Let us have some music, Miss Sedley – Amelia,” said George, who felt at that moment an extraordinary, almost irresistible impulse to seize the above-mentioned young woman in his arms, and to kiss her in the face of the company. They went off to the piano, which was situated, as pianos usually are, in the back drawing room; and as it was rather dark, Miss Amelia, in the most unaffected way in the world, put her hand into Mr. Osborne’s, who, of course, could see the way among the chairs a great deal better than she could. But this arrangement left Mr. Joseph Sedley tete-a-tete with Rebecca, at the drawing-room table, where the latter was occupied in knitting a green silk purse.
“There is no need to ask family secrets,” said Miss Sharp.
“Those two have told theirs.”
“As soon as he gets his company,” said Joseph, “I believe the affair is settled. George Osborne is a capital fellow.”
“And your sister the dearest creature in the world,” said Rebecca.
“Happy the man who wins her!” With this, Miss Sharp gave a great sigh.
When two unmarried persons get together, and talk upon such delicate subjects as the present, a great deal of confidence and intimacy is presently established between them.
Almost for the first time in his life, Mr. Sedley found himself talking, without the least timidity or hesitation, to a person of the other sex. Miss Rebecca asked him a great number of questions about India, which gave him an opportunity of narrating many interesting anecdotes about that country and himself. And as he talked on, he grew quite bold, and actually had the audacity to ask Miss Rebecca for whom she was knitting the green silk purse? He was quite surprised and delighted at his own graceful familiar manner.
“For anyone who wants a purse,” replied Miss Rebecca, looking at him in the most gentle winning way. Sedley was going to make one of the most eloquent speeches possible, and had begun – ”O Miss Sharp, how – ” when some song which was performed in the other room came to an end, and caused him to hear his own voice so distinctly that he stopped, blushed, and blew his nose in great agitation.
Having expended her little store of songs, or having stayed long enough in the back drawing-room, it now appeared proper to Miss Amelia to ask her friend to sing. Rebecca sang far better than her, indeed, to the wonder of Amelia, who had never known her perform so well. Joseph Sedley, who was fond of music, and soft-hearted, was in a state of ravishment during the performance of the song, and profoundly touched at its conclusion. If he had had the courage; if George and Miss Sedley had remained in the farther room, Joseph Sedley’s bachelorhood would have been at an end, and this work would never have been written. But Rebecca quitted the piano, and giving her hand to Amelia, walked away into the front drawing-room twilight; and, at this moment, Mr.
Sambo made his appearance with a tray, containing sandwiches on which Joseph Sedley’s attention was immediately fixed. When the parents of the house of Sedley returned from their party, they found the young people so busy in talking, that they had not heard the arrival of the carriage.
“Bravo, Jos!” said Mr. Sedley; Jos instantly relapsed into an alarmed silence, and quickly took his departure. He did not lie awake all night thinking whether or not he was in love with Miss Sharp; but he thought to himself how delightful it would be to hear such songs as those and what a sensation she would make at the Calcutta balls. “It’s evident the poor devil’s in love with me,” thought he. “She is just as rich as most of the girls who come out to India!” And in these meditations he fell asleep.
How Miss Sharp lay awake, thinking, will he come or not tomorrow? need not be told here. To-morrow came, and, as sure as fate, Mr. Joseph Sedley made his appearance before luncheon.
How her heart beat as Joseph appeared. It was a nervous moment for all. Sambo announced Mr. Joseph, who followed grinning bearing two handsome bunches of flowers, the young women were delighted with the gift, as Joseph presented one to each, with a bow.
“Bravo, Jos!” cried Osborne.
“Thank you, dear Joseph,” said Amelia, quite ready to kiss her brother.
“O heavenly, heavenly flowers!” exclaimed Miss Sharp, and smelt them delicately, and held them to her bosom, and cast up her eyes to the ceiling. Perhaps she just looked first into the bouquet, but there was no letter.
So the conversation went on. I don’t know on what pretext Osborne left the room, or why, presently, Amelia went away, but Jos was left alone with Rebecca, who had resumed her work.
“What a beautiful song that was you sang last night, dear Miss Sharp,” said the Collector. “It made me cry almost.”
“Because you have a kind heart, Mr. Joseph; all the Sedleys have, I think.”
“It kept me awake last night, and I was trying to hum it this morning, in bed; Miss Sharp; my dear Miss Sharp, do sing it.”
“Not now, Mr. Sedley,” said Rebecca, with a sigh. “My spirits are not equal to it; besides, I must finish the purse. Will you help me, Mr. Sedley?” And before he had time to ask how, Mr. Joseph Sedley was actually seated tete-a-tete with a young lady, looking at her with a most killing expression; his arms stretched out before her, and his hands bound in a web of green silk. In this romantic position Osborne and Amelia found the interesting pair, when they entered. But Mr. Jos had never spoken.
“I am sure he will tonight, dear,” Amelia said, as she pressed Rebecca’s hand; and Sedley, too, said to himself, “’Gad, I’ll pop the question at Vauxhall.”