Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 324: what you’re looking at

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

A NOVEL WITHOUT A HERO. 75 becca’s refusal; Briggs very acutely sug-|who was the gentleman that had the mas- gesting that there must have been some ob- | tery of Miss Sharp’s heart. stacle in the shape of a previous attachment, otherwise no young woman in her senses would ever have refused so advantageous a proposal. ‘‘You would have accepted it youself, wouldn’t you, Briggs 7” Miss Crawley said, kindly. ‘‘ Would it not be a privilege to be Miss Crawley’s sister?” Briggs replied, with meek evasion. ‘¢ Well, Becky would have made a good Lady Crawley, after all,’ Miss Crawley re- marked (who was mollified by the girl’s re- fusal, and very liberal and generous, now there was no call for her sacrifices). ‘ She has brains in plenty (much more wit in her little finger than you have, my poor, dear Briggs, in all your head). Her manners are excellent, now I have formed her. She is a Montmorency, Briggs, and blood is something, though I despise it for my part; and she would have held her own among those pompous, stupid Hampshire people, much better than that unfortunate ironmon- ger’s daughter.” Briggs coincided as usual, and the “ pre- vious attachment’? was then discussed in conjectures. ‘You poor friendless crea- tures are always having some foolish tendre,”’ Miss Crawley said. ‘* You yourself, you know, were in love with a writing-master (don’t cry, Briggs—you’re always crying, and it won’t bring him to life again), and [| suppose this unfortunate Becky has been silly and sentimental too—some apothecary, or house-steward, or painter, or young cu- rate, or something of that sort.” ‘Poor thing, poor thing!” says Briggs (who was thinking of twenty-four years back, and that hectic young writing-master whose lock of yellow hair, and whose letters, beautiful in their illegibility, she cherished in her old desk up-stairs). ‘* Poor thing, poor thing!” says Briggs. Once more she was a fresh-cheeked lass of eighteen; she was at evening church, and the hectic writ- ing-master and she were quavering out of the same psalm-book. ‘After such conduct on Rebecca’s part,”’ Miss Crawley said enthusiastically, ‘our family should do something. Find out who is the objet, Briggs. J’ll set him up in a shop; or order my portrait of him, you know ; or speak to my cousin the bishop— and I’ll doter Becky, and we’ll have a wed- ding, Briggs, and you shall make the break- fast, and be a bride’s-maid.”’ Briggs declared that it would be delightful, and vowed that her dear Miss Crawley was always kind and generous, and went up to Rebecca’s bed-room to console her and prat- tle about the offer, and the refusal, and the cause thereof; and to hint at the generous intentions of Miss Crawley, and to find out Rebecca was very kind, very affectionate and affected—responded to Briggs’ offers of tenderness with grateful fervor—owned there was a secret attachment—-a delicious mystery—what a pity Miss Briggs had not remained half a minute longer at the key- hole! Rebecca might, perhaps, have told more: but five minutes after Miss Briggs’ arrival in Rebecca’s apartment, Miss Craw- ley actually made her appearance there—an unheard of honor; her impatience had over- come her; she could not wait for the tardy operations of her embassadress: so she came in person, and ordered Briggs out of the room. And expressing her approval of Rebecca’s conduct, she asked particulars of the interview and the previous transactions which had brought about the astonishing offer of Sir Pitt. Rebecca said she had long had some no- tion of the partiality with which Sir Pitt honored her (for he was in the habit of making his feelings known in a very frank and unreserved manner) but, not to mention private reasons with which she would not for the present trouble Miss Crawley, Sir Pitt’s age, station, and habits were such as to render a marriage quite impossible ; and could a woman with any feelings of self-re- spect and any decency listen to proposals at such a moment, when.the funeral of the lover’s deceased wife had not actually taken place ? ‘* Nonsense, my dear, you would never have refused him had there not been some one else in the case,” Miss Crawley said, coming to her point at once. ‘'Tell me the private reasons; what are the private rea- sons? ‘There is some one; who is it that has touched your heart ?” Rebecca cast down her eyes, and owned there was. ‘ You have guessed right, dear lady,’’ she said, with a sweet, simple, falter- ing voice. ‘* You wonder at one so poor and friendless having an attachment, don’t you? I have never heard that poverty was any safeguard against it. I wish it were.” ‘* My poor, dear child,” cried Miss Craw- ley, who was always quite ready to be senti- mental, ‘* ls our passion unrequited, then?” Are we pining in secret? ‘Tell me all, and let me console you.”’ ‘¢]T wish you could, dear madam,”’ Rebec- ca said in the same tearful tone. ‘‘ Indeed, indeed I need it.’”’? And she laid her head upon Miss Crawley’s shoulder and wept there so naturally that the old lady, sur- prised into sympathy, embraced her with an almost maternal kindness, uttered many soothing protests of regard and affection for her, vowed that she loved her as a daughter, and would do every thing in her power to serve her. ‘And now who is it, my dear? Is it that pretty Miss Sedley’s brother? cConniclooolkks (CO