Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 263: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

> eitement. A NOVEL WITHOUT A HERO. “ Und das war gar nicht theuer, potztau- send!” exclaimed the princely Hungarian, Gres eis Kew we os ss : Thus you see, ladies, how this story might have been written, if the author had buta mind; for, to tell the truth, he is just as familiar with Newgate as with the palaces of our revered aristocracy, and has seen the outside of both. But as I don’t understand the language or manners of the Rookery, nor that polyglot conversation which, accord- ing to the fashionable novelists, is spoken by the leaders of ton; we must, if you please, preserve our middle course modestly, amid those scenes and personages with which we are most familiar. In a word, this chapter about Vauxhall would have been so exceed- ingly short but for the above little disquisi- tion, that it scarcely would have deserved to be called a chapter at all. And yet itisa chapter, and a very important one too. Are not there little chapters in every body’s life, that seem to be nothing, and yet affect all the rest of the history ? Let us then step into the coach with the Russell-square party, and be off to the gar- dens. ‘l‘here is barely room between Jos and Miss Sharp, who are on the front seat. ' Mr. Osborne sitting bodkin opposite, between Captain Dobbin and Amelia. Every soul in the coach agreed, thai on that night, Jos would propose to make Re- becca Sharp Mrs. Sedley. The parents at home had acquiesced in the arrangement, though, between ourselves, old Mr. Sedley had a feeling very much akin to contempt for his son. He said he was vain, selfish, lazy, and effeminate. He could not endure his airs as a man of fashion, and laughed heartily at his pompous braggadocio stories. ‘¢ | shall leave the fellow half my property,” he said, ‘“‘and he will have, besides, plenty of his own; but as I am perfectly sure that if you, and I, and his sister were to die to- morrow he would say ‘ Good Gad! and eat his dinner just as well as usual, I am not going to make myself anxious about him. Let him marry whom he likes. It’s no affair of mine.” Amelia, on the other hand, as became a young woman of her prudence and temper- ament, was quite enthusiastic for the match. Once or twice Jos had been on the point of saying something very important to her, to which she was most willing to lend an ear, but the fat fellow could not be brought to unbosom himself of his great secret, and very much to his sister’s disappointment he only rid himself of a large sigh, and turned - away. , This mystery served to keep Amelia’s gentle bosom in a perpetual flutter of ex- If she did not speak with Re- becca on the tender subject, she compensa- ted herself with long and intimate conversa- tions with Mrs. Blenkinsop, the housekeeper, 31 who dropped some hints to the lady’s-maid, who may have cursorily mentioned it to the cook, who carried the news, I have no doubt, to all the tradesmen, so that Mr. Jos’s mar- riage was now talked of by a very consider- able number of persons in the Russell-square worid. It was, of course, Mrs. Sedley’s opinion that her son would demean himself by a marriage with an artist’s daughter. ‘ But, lor’, ma’am,” ejaculated Mrs. Blenkinsop, ‘we was only grocers when we married Mr. S., who was a stock-broker’s clerk, and we hadn’t five hundred pounds among us, and we’re rich enough now.”’ And Amelia was entirely of this opinion, to which, gradually, the good-natured Mrs. Sedley was brought. Mr. Sedley was neutral. ‘+ Let Jos marry whom he likes,” he said; ‘it’s no affair of mine. ‘l'his girl has no fortune; no more had Mrs. Sedley. She seems good-humored and clever, and will keep him in order, per- haps. Better she, my dear, than a black Mrs. Sedley, and a dozen of mahogany srandchildren.” So that every thing seemed to smile upon Rebecca’s fortunes. She took Jos’s arm, as a matter of course, on going to dinner; she had sate by him on the box of his open car- riage (a most tremendous “buck” he was, as he sat there, serene, in state, driving his grays), and though nobody said a word on the subject of the marriage, every body seemed to understand it. All she wanted was the proposal, and ah! how Rebecca now felt the want of a mother! a dear, tender mother, who would have managed the busi- ness in ten minutes, and, in the course of a little delicate confidential conversation, would have extracted the interesting avowal from the bashful lips of the young man! Such was the state of affairs as the car- riage crossed Westminster Bridge. The party was landed at the Royal Gar- dens in due time. As the majestic Jos stepped out of the creaking vehicle the crowd gave a cheer for the fat gentleman, who blushed and looked very big and mighty, as he walked away with Rebecca under his arm. George, of course, took charge of Amelia. She looked as happy as a rose- tree in sunshine. ‘“‘T say, Dobbin,” says George, ‘just look to the shawls and things, there’s a good fel- low.” And so while he paired off with Miss Sedley, and Jos squeezed through the gate into the gardens with Rebecca at his side, honest Dobbin contented himself by giving an arm to the shawls, and by paying at the door for the whole party. He walked very modestly behind them. He was not willing to spoil sport. About Rebecca and Jos he did not careafig. But he thought Amelia worthy even of the bril- liant George Osborne, and as he saw that good-looking couple, threading the walks to COMICA@OO® ) S (CO)