Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 329: what you’re looking at

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80 providential that she snould have arrived at such a time to assist poor dear Miss Crawley in supporting the shock—that Rebecca was an artful little hussy, of whom she had al- ways had her suspicions; and that as for Rawdon Crawley, she never could account for his aunt’s infatuation regarding him, and had long considered him a profligate, lost, and abandoned being. And this awful con- duct, Mrs. Bute said, will have at least this good effect, it will open poor, dear Miss Crawley’s eyes to the real character of this wicked man. Then Mrs. Bute had a com- fortable hot toast and tea; and as there was a vacant room in the house now, there was no need for her to remain at the Gloster Coffee House where the Portsmouth mail had set her down, and whence she ordered Mr. Bowls’s aid-de-camp, the footman, to bring away her trunks. Miss Crawley, be it known, did not leave her room until near noon—taking chocolate in bed in the morning, while Becky Sharp read the Morning Post to her, or otherwise amusing herself or dawdling. The conspir- ators below agreed that they would spare the dear Jady’s feelings until she appeared in her drawing-room: meanwhile it was an- nounced to her, that Mrs. Bute Crawley had come up from Hampshire by the mail, was staying at the Gloster, sent her love to Miss Crawley, and asked for breakfast with Miss Briggs. The arrival of Mrs. Bute, which would not have caused any extreme delight at another period, was hailed with pleasure now; Miss Crawley being pleased at the notion of a gossip with her sister-in-law re- garding the late Lady Crawley, the funeral arrangements pending, and Sir Pitt’s abrupt proposals to Rebecca. It was not until the old lady was fairly ensconced in her usual arm-chair in the drawing-room, and the preliminary embraces and inquiries had taken place between the _ ladies, that the conspirators thought it ad- visable to submit her to the operation. Who has not admired the artifices and delicate approaches with which women “ prepare” their friends for bad news? Miss Crawley’s two friends made such an apparatus of mys- tery before they broke the intelligence to her, that they worked her up to the neces- sary degree of doubt and alarm. ‘“ And she refused Sir Pitt, my dear, dear Miss Crawley, prepare yourself for it,” Mrs. Bute said, ‘ because—because she couldn’t help herself.” ‘‘Of course there was a reason,’”? Miss Crawley answered. ‘She liked somebody else. I told Briggs so yesterday.” ‘‘ Likes somebody else!” Briggs gasped. ‘*Q my dear friend, she is married already.” ‘‘ Married already,’ Mrs. Bute chimed in; and both sat with clasped hands looking from each other at their victim. ‘Send her to me the instant she comes VANITY FAIR. in. The little sly wretch: how dared she not tell me ?”’ cried out Miss Crawley. ‘“She won’t come in soon. Prepare yourself, dear friend—she’s gone out for a long time—she’s—she’s gone altogether.” ‘‘Gracious goodness, and who’s to make my chocolate? Send for her and have her back; I desire that she come back,” the old lady said. ‘¢ She decamped last night, ma’am,” cried Mrs. Bute. ‘She left a letter for me,’’ Briggs ex- claimed. ‘*She’s married to”— ‘‘ Prepare her, for heaven’s sake. Don’t torture her, my dear Miss Briggs.” ‘She’s married to whom?” cries the spinster, in a nervous fury. ‘¢'T’o—to a relation of”— ‘She refused Sir Pitt,” cried the victim. ‘Speak at once. Don’t drive me mad.” ‘‘Q ma’am—prepare her, Miss Briggs— she’s married to Rawdon Crawley.” ‘Rawdon married—Rebecca—governess —nobod—Get out of my hbuse, you fool, you idiot—you stupid old Briggs—how dare you? You’re in the plot—you made him marry, thinking that I’d leave my money from him—you did, Martha,’”’ the poor old lady screamed in hysteric sentences. ‘T, ma’am, ask a member of this family to marry a drawing-master’s daughter ?”’ ‘¢ Her mother was a Montmorency,” cried out the old lady, pulling at the bell with all her might. ‘‘ Her mother was an opera girl, and she has been on the stage or worse herself,” said Mrs. Bute. Miss Crawley gave a final scream, and fell back in a faint. They were forced to take her back to the room which she had just quitted. One fit of hysterics succeeded another. ‘The doctor was sent for—the apothecary arrived. Mrs. bute took up the post of nurse by her bedside. ‘ Her rela- tions ought to be round about her,’ that amiable woman said. She had scarcely been carried up to her room, when a new person arrived, to whom it was also necessary to break the news. This was Sir Pitt. ‘* Where’s Becky ?” he said, coming in. ‘* Where’s her traps? She’s coming with me to Queen’s Crawley.” «Have you not heard the astonishing in- telligence regarding her surreptitious union?” Briggs asked. “ What’s that to me?” Sir Pitt asked. ‘‘T know she’s married. That makes no odds. ‘Tell her to come down at once, and not keep me.” ‘“Are you not aware, sir,’ Miss Briggs asked, ‘*that she has left our roof, to the dismay of Miss Crawley, who is nearly kill- ed by the intelligence of Captain Rawdon’s union with her ?” When Sir Pitt Crawley heard that Re- becca was married to his son, he broke out CORNICELOOKS: (EO a