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VANITY FAIR
By WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY A FTER six years at Miss Pinkerton's school, Amelia Sedley went home, guaranteed a polished and refined young lady. Amelia was a dear little creature, all rosy health and bright good humor, though the silly thing would cry over a dead canary-bird or a mouse the cat had seized upon. She was accompanied by her dear friend, Becky Sharp, who was to make a short visit at the Sedley home before beginning her career of self-support as a governess. Becky was small, pale, and sandy-haired, with eyes habitually cast down; when they looked up they were large, odd, and attractive. As Miss Sharp's father had been an artist and a drunkard, and her French mother an opera girl, it is not sur- prising that Rebecca asserted she had never been a girl-she had been a woman since she was eight years old. At the Sedley home, Becky met Amelia's brother Joseph, a stout, puffy man, who wore buckskins and Hessian boots, several immense neckcloths, a red striped waistcoat, and an apple-green coat. He was lazy, peevish, a glutton, and a hard drinker, but Rebecca decided instantly to set her cap for him and began by whispering to Amelia, rather loud, "He's very handsome!" Rebecca's plans, however, were foiled by George Osborne, an admirer of Amelia, and Miss Sharp took her departure from the Sedley house. She went to be governess in the home of Sir Pitt Crawley, which place, in her letters to Amelia, she dubbed Humdrum Hall. There were many Crawleys, the most important being Sir Pitt's spinster sister, and his second son, Rawdon Crawley. The old lady possessed seventy thousand pounds, and had almost adopted Rawdon, who was her favorite nephew, while several members of the family fought to supplant him in her favor. Captain Rawdon Crawley was a large young dandy, who spoke with a great voice and swore a good deal. He remarked of the demure Rebecca, "By Jove, she's a neat little filly ! " and both he and his aunt took a decided fancy to the clever and fascinating little governess, though, indeed, she made conquest of pretty much whomsoever she chose. Now we must flit back to London to see what has become of Miss Amelia. Far less interesting than Becky, and with nothing but her wax-doll face to recommend her, yet all the young men clustered round her chair and battled for a dance with her. She was now engaged to George Osborne, albeit his sisters wondered, "What could George find in that creature?" So much did they wonder this, that it affected George, and he concluded he was throwing himself away on the chit. But poor little Amelia adored him, and Captain Dobbin, who favored Amelia himself, kept Osborne up to the mark in his attentions. The infatuated girl cared nothing about the Napoleonic war that was raging, the fate of Europe was to her only Lieutenant George Osborne; while he, often away with his regiment, the Horse Guards, read her letters hastily, murmuring, "Poor little Emmy-how fond she is of me! and gad! what a headache that mixed punch has given me!" About this time Miss Crawley returned from visiting her brother and brought back with her to her house in Park Lane no less a personage than Miss Rebecca Sharp, who, so well had she played her cards, was now Miss Crawley's much cherished companion. Whereupon Captain Rawdon Crawley be-came a frequent visitor at his aunt's home. Incidentally, Lady Crawley died-so incidentally that Miss Crawley merely said, pettishly, "I suppose I must put off my party for the third!" Immediately upon the death of his wife, Sir Pitt came to his sister's house and endeavored to retrieve his lost Becky as governess. "I daren't. I don't think it would be right to be alone-with-you, sir," she replied, seemingly in great agitation. "Come as Lady Crawley, then ! There, will that satisfy you?" and the vulgar, ill-bred old M. P. fell down on his knees and leered at her like a satyr. Rebecca, in real consternation at her lost chance, wept genuine tears, as she exclaimed, "Oh, Sir Pitt-oh, sir -I-I'm married already!" When it further transpired that the bride-groom of Becky's secret marriage was the brass-spurred and long-mustachioed Captain Rawdon Crawley, there were two cataclysms, one in which Miss Crawley went from one fit of hysterics into another, and one where the frenzied old Sir Pitt went wild with hatred and insane with baffled desire. But the bridegroom captain remarked to his wife: "You're sure to get us out of the scrape, Beck. I never saw your equal, and I've met with some clippers in my time, too ! " George Osborne, though dependent on his mercenary, low-bred father, despised him, and when the elder Osborne forbade George to marry our little Amelia the young man broke over the traces and married her out of hand. The marriage was egged on and managed by the faithful Dobbin; and, radiant in her straw bonnet with pink ribbons and a white-lace veil, little Emmy went off with her husband to Brighton for the honey-moon. Here they fell in with the Rawdon Crawleys. Becky, mistress of a fine establishment and surrounded by respectful admirers, was so adroit at wheedling tradesmen and standing off creditors, that she made it possible for them to maintain a fine social position on nothing a year. Soon after this, among the brilliant train of camp-followers that hung around the Duke of Wellington's army, our friends were all in Brussels. George, now desperately infatuated with Becky, and neglecting his six weeks' wife shamefully, slipped a note in a bouquet at a ball, begging Becky to elope with him. But before the note was answered came the call to arms, and Lieu-tenant Osborne, forgetting all love and intrigue, kissed his Amelia and marched away-marched, alas ! to his death on the field of Waterloo. Colonel Rawdon Crawley, promoted for gallantry, returned in triumph, and he and his wife passed the winter of 1815 in Paris in much splendor and gaiety. Becky's salon became famous, and great people hobnobbed there. Colonel Crawley's dexterity at cards and billiards became so marked that he constantly won from his guests, and under Becky's tutelage he became a clever and successful gambler, and thus aided in their fortune of nothing a year. Amelia, now the widow of Osborne, and with a small son, Georgy, was in sad penury, her father-in-law refusing to see her at all, and her own father and mother dependent upon her. Becky, too, was the mother of a son, but she cared nothing for her child, nor for her husband; indeed, she so far forgot her wifely duty as to be guilty of an intrigue with the rich old Lord Stevne. Colonel Crawley discovered this, thrashed the nobleman, and left his wife. Then Becky, following her own devious ways, became an undisguised adventuress and neglected to care for her reputation. She bobbed about from one city to another, now hounded by creditors; now cared for by some rich admirer. At last, when poor Becky had fallen very low in funds and in repute, she was found by Joseph Sedley and his sister Amelia. The old acquaintance was renewed, and gentle, generous Amelia took her one-time bosom friend into her heart and home. Major Dobbin strongly disapproved, and denounced Becky for what she was in her very presence. Amelia resented this, and Dobbin then begged Amelia, once again, to marry him-a plea he had often before made. On her refusal, Dobbin went off, vowing never to return, leaving Amelia alone with her fealty to her dead George. Whereupon, Becky, learning the state of things, told Amelia of George's note to her asking her to elope with him, and contrasting the faithless George most unfavorably with the patient and long-suffering Dobbin. So Amelia re-called Dobbin, married him, and they lived happy ever after. Mrs. Rawdon Crawley then attached her-self to Joseph Sedley, though not by any legal bonds. He was her utter slave and insured his life heavily for her benefit-and benefit she did, for he died soon after. Rawdon Crawley died, too, and the son Rawdon refused ever to see his mother again. Rebecca lived at Bath or Cheltenham, where some excellent people considered her a most injured woman. She devoted her life to works of piety and charity, and though when she met Amelia and her husband once they turned quickly away, Becky only cast down her eyes demurely and smiled. Vanitas vanitatum! Which of us is happy in this world? Let us shut up the box and the puppets-our play is played out. |