Ярмарка тщеславия / Vanity Fair - стр. 20

“SIR,

I am commissioned by Mr. Osborne to inform you, and that in consequence of the marriage which you have been pleased to contract, he ceases to consider you as a member of his family. This determination is final.”

“Your obedient Servt[18]., “S. HIGGS.

“P. S. – Mr. Osborne desires me to say, once for all, that he declines to receive any messages, letters, or communications from you on this or any other subject.

“A pretty way you have managed the affair,” said George, looking savagely at William Dobbin. “Why couldn’t we have waited with the marriage? It was all your doing. You were never easy until you had got me married and ruined.”

“There’s no denying that the position is a hard one,” Dobbin replied, after reading over the letter with a blank countenance; “and as you say, it is partly of my making. There are some men who wouldn’t mind changing with you,” he added, with a bitter smile.

The news from the attorney and upcoming Belgium astonished Amelia. She was determined to accompany her husband. So was Becky. Rawdon and she were only held in Brighton by the news of Old Miss Crawley’s poor condition. After numerous attempts to have a talk which could provide their future life Becky and Rawdon left Brighton just like their friends. Rawdon and his wife did not go back to their lodgings at Brompton, but put up at an inn. All of their dear friends were all off to take shipping for Belgium with the regiment – kind old Mrs. Sedley very much depressed and tearful, solitary. Returning from this visit, Rebecca found her husband, who had been off to Gray’s Inn, and learnt his fate. He came back furious.

“Becky,” says he, “she’s only given me twenty pound!”

Though it told against themselves, the joke was too good, and Becky burst out laughing at Rawdon’s discomfiture.

The officers left Brighton with their regiment. Amelia made a firm decision to accompany her husband and traveled eagerly. They came to Brussels and found it exquisite. It was almost like Old England. Soon enough after the arrival they were all to go to the Opera. The house was filled with familiar British faces. At the end of the act, George was out of the box in a moment, and he was even going to pay his respects to Rebecca in her loge. He met Crawley in the lobby, however, where they exchanged a few sentences upon the occurrences of the last fortnight.

George was only half pleased to be asked to dinner on that particular day when the General was not to dine.

“I will go in and pay my respects to your wife,” said he; at which Rawdon said, “Hm, as you please,” looking very glum, and at which the two young officers exchanged knowing glances. George parted from them and strutted down the lobby to the General’s box, the number of which he had carefully counted.

“My dear Captain George!” cried little Rebecca in an ecstasy. “How good of you to come. How is dearest Amelia? But I needn’t ask: how pretty she looks!”

Amelia’s gentle eyes had been fixed anxiously on the pair, but when Rebecca entered her box, she flew to her friend with affection. Rebecca bustled, she chattered, she turned and twisted.

And when the time for the ballet came she skipped back to her own box, leaning on Captain Dobbin’s arm this time. No, she would not have George’s: he must stay and talk to his dearest, best, little Amelia.