"No, hang it, William, I beg your pardon"--here George interposed in a fit of remorse; "you have been my friend in a hundred ways, Heaven knows.You've got me out of a score of scrapes.When Crawley of the Guards won that sum of money of me I should have been done but for you: I know I should.But you shouldn't deal so hardly with me; you shouldn't be always catechising me.
I am very fond of Amelia; I adore her, and that sort of thing.Don't look angry.She's faultless; I know she is.
But you see there's no fun in winning a thing unless you play for it.Hang it: the regiment's just back from the West Indies, I must have a little fling, and then when I'm married I'll reform; I will upon my honour, now.And--Isay--Dob--don't be angry with me, and I'll give you a hundred next month, when I know my father will stand something handsome; and I'll ask Heavytop for leave, and I'll go to town, and see Amelia to-morrow--there now, will that satisfy you?""It is impossible to be long angry with you, George,"said the good-natured Captain; "and as for the money, old boy, you know if I wanted it you'd share your last shilling with me.""That I would, by Jove, Dobbin," George said, with the greatest generosity, though by the way he never had any money to spare.
"Only I wish you had sown those wild oats of yours, George.If you could have seen poor little Miss Emmy's face when she asked me about you the other day, you would have pitched those billiard-balls to the deuce.Go and comfort her, you rascal.Go and write her a long letter.Do something to make her happy; a very little will.""I believe she's d--d fond of me," the Lieutenant said, with a self-satisfied air; and went off to finish the evening with some jolly fellows in the mess-room.
Amelia meanwhile, in Russell Square, was looking at the moon, which was shining upon that peaceful spot, as well as upon the square of the Chatham barracks, where Lieutenant Osborne was quartered, and thinking to herself how her hero was employed.Perhaps he is visiting the sentries, thought she; perhaps he is bivouacking;perhaps he is attending the couch of a wounded comrade, or studying the art of war up in his own desolate chamber.
And her kind thoughts sped away as if they were angels and had wings, and flying down the river to Chatham and Rochester, strove to peep into the barracks where George was....All things considered, I think it was as well the gates were shut, and the sentry allowed no one to pass; so that the poor little white-robed angel could not hear the songs those young fellows were roaring over the whisky-punch.
The day after the little conversation at Chatham barracks, young Osborne, to show that he would be as good as his word, prepared to go to town, thereby incurring Captain Dobbin's applause."I should have liked to make her a little present," Osborne said to his friend in confidence, "only I am quite out of cash until my father tips up." But Dobbin would not allow this good nature and generosity to be balked, and so accommodated Mr.Osborne with a few pound notes, which the latter took after a little faint scruple.
And I dare say he would have bought something very handsome for Amelia; only, getting off the coach in Fleet Street, he was attracted by a handsome shirt-pin in a jeweller's window, which he could not resist; and having paid for that, had very little money to spare for indulging in any further exercise of kindness.Never mind: you may be sure it was not his presents Amelia wanted.When he came to Russell Square, her face lighted up as if he had been sunshine.The little cares, fears, tears, timid misgivings, sleepless fancies of I don't know how many days and nights, were forgotten, under one moment's influence of that familiar, irresistible smile.He beamed on her from the drawing-room door--magnificent, with ambrosial whiskers, like a god.Sambo, whose face as he announced Captain Osbin (having conferred a brevet rank on that young officer) blazed with a sympathetic grin, saw the little girl start, and flush, and jump up from her watching-place in the window; and Sambo retreated: and as soon as the door was shut, she went fluttering to Lieutenant George Osborne's heart as if it was the only natural home for her to nestle in.Oh, thou poor panting little soul! The very finest tree in the whole forest, with the straightest stem, and the strongest arms, and the thickest foliage, wherein you choose to build and coo, may be marked, for what you know, and may be down with a crash ere long.What an old, old simile that is, between man and timber!
In the meanwhile, George kissed her very kindly on her forehead and glistening eyes, and was very gracious and good; and she thought his diamond shirt-pin (which she had not known him to wear before) the prettiest ornament ever seen.
The observant reader, who has marked our young Lieutenant's previous behaviour, and has preserved our report of the brief conversation which he has just had with Captain Dobbin, has possibly come to certain conclusions regarding the character of Mr.Osborne.Some cynical Frenchman has said that there are two parties to a love-transaction: the one who loves and the other who condescends to be so treated.Perhaps the love is occasionally on the man's side; perhaps on the lady's.
Perhaps some infatuated swain has ere this mistaken insensibility for modesty, dulness for maiden reserve, mere vacuity for sweet bashfulness, and a goose, in a word, for a swan.Perhaps some beloved female subscriber has arrayed an ass in the splendour and glory of her imagination; admired his dulness as manly simplicity;worshipped his selfishness as manly superiority; treated his stupidity as majestic gravity, and used him as the brilliant fairy Titania did a certain weaver at Athens.I think I have seen such comedies of errors going on in the world.But this is certain, that Amelia believed her lover to be one of the most gallant and brilliant men in the empire: and it is possible Lieutenant Osborne thought so too.
