So having prepared the sisters, Dobbin hastened away to the City toperform the rest and more difficult part of the task which he hadundertaken. The idea of facing old Osborne rendered him not a littlenervous, and more than once he thought of leaving the young ladies tocommunicate the secret, which, as he was aware, they could not longretain. But he had promised to report to George upon the manner inwhich the elder Osborne bore the intelligence; so going into the Cityto the paternal counting-house in Thames Street, he despatched thence anote to Mr. Osborne begging for a half-hour's conversation relative tothe affairs of his son George. Dobbin's messenger returned from Mr.Osborne's house of business, with the compliments of the latter, whowould be very happy to see the Captain immediately, and awayaccordingly Dobbin went to confront him.

The Captain, with a half-guilty secret to confess, and with theprospect of a painful and stormy interview before him, entered Mr.Osborne's offices with a most dismal countenance and abashed gait, and,passing through the outer room where Mr. Chopper presided, was greetedby that functionary from his desk with a waggish air which fartherdiscomfited him. Mr. Chopper winked and nodded and pointed his pentowards his patron's door, and said, "You'll find the governor allright," with the most provoking good humour.

Osborne rose too, and shook him heartily by the hand, and said, "Howdo, my dear boy?" with a cordiality that made poor George's ambassadorfeel doubly guilty. His hand lay as if dead in the old gentleman'sgrasp. He felt that he, Dobbin, was more or less the cause of all thathad happened. It was he had brought back George to Amelia: it was hehad applauded, encouraged, transacted almost the marriage which he wascome to reveal to George's father: and the latter was receiving himwith smiles of welcome; patting him on the shoulder, and calling him"Dobbin, my dear boy." The envoy had indeed good reason to hang hishead.

Osborne fully believed that Dobbin had come to announce his son'ssurrender. Mr. Chopper and his principal were talking over the matterbetween George and his father, at the very moment when Dobbin'smessenger arrived. Both agreed that George was sending in hissubmission. Both had been expecting it for some days--and "Lord!Chopper, what a marriage we'll have!" Mr. Osborne said to his clerk,snapping his big fingers, and jingling all the guineas and shillings inhis great pockets as he eyed his subordinate with a look of triumph.

With similar operations conducted in both pockets, and a knowing jollyair, Osborne from his chair regarded Dobbin seated blank and silentopposite to him. "What a bumpkin he is for a Captain in the army," oldOsborne thought. "I wonder George hasn't taught him better manners."

At last Dobbin summoned courage to begin. "Sir," said he, "I'vebrought you some very grave news. I have been at the Horse Guards thismorning, and there's no doubt that our regiment will be ordered abroad,and on its way to Belgium before the week is over. And you know, sir,that we shan't be home again before a tussle which may be fatal to manyof us." Osborne looked grave. "My s--, the regiment will do itsduty, sir, I daresay," he said.

"The French are very strong, sir," Dobbin went on. "The Russians andAustrians will be a long time before they can bring their troops down.We shall have the first of the fight, sir; and depend on it Boney willtake care that it shall be a hard one."

"What are you driving at, Dobbin?" his interlocutor said, uneasy andwith a scowl. "I suppose no Briton's afraid of any d---- Frenchman,hey?"

"I only mean, that before we go, and considering the great and certainrisk that hangs over every one of us--if there are any differencesbetween you and George--it would be as well, sir, that--that youshould shake hands: wouldn't it? Should anything happen to him, Ithink you would never forgive yourself if you hadn't parted in charity."

As he said this, poor William Dobbin blushed crimson, and felt andowned that he himself was a traitor. But for him, perhaps, thisseverance need never have taken place. Why had not George's marriagebeen delayed? What call was there to press it on so eagerly? He feltthat George would have parted from Amelia at any rate without a mortalpang. Amelia, too, MIGHT have recovered the shock of losing him. Itwas his counsel had brought about this marriage, and all that was toensue from it. And why was it? Because he loved her so much that hecould not bear to see her unhappy: or because his own sufferings ofsuspense were so unendurable that he was glad to crush them at once--aswe hasten a funeral after a death, or, when a separation from those welove is imminent, cannot rest until the parting be over.

"You are a good fellow, William," said Mr. Osborne in a softened voice;"and me and George shouldn't part in anger, that is true. Look here.I've done for him as much as any father ever did. He's had three timesas much money from me, as I warrant your father ever gave you. But Idon't brag about that. How I've toiled for him, and worked andemployed my talents and energy, I won't say. Ask Chopper. Askhimself. Ask the City of London. Well, I propose to him such amarriage as any nobleman in the land might be proud of--the only thingin life I ever asked him--and he refuses me. Am I wrong? Is thequarrel of MY making? What do I seek but his good, for which I've beentoiling like a convict ever since he was born? Nobody can say there'sanything selfish in me. Let him come back. I say, here's my hand. Isay, forget and forgive. As for marrying now, it's out of thequestion. Let him and Miss S. make it up, and make out the marriageafterwards, when he comes back a Colonel; for he shall be a Colonel, byG-- he shall, if money can do it. I'm glad you've brought him round.I know it's you, Dobbin. You've took him out of many a scrape before.Let him come. I shan't be hard. Come along, and dine in RussellSquare to-day: both of you. The old shop, the old hour. You'll find aneck of venison, and no questions asked."

This praise and confidence smote Dobbin's heart very keenly. Everymoment the colloquy continued in this tone, he felt more and moreguilty. "Sir," said he, "I fear you deceive yourself. I am sure youdo. George is much too high-minded a man ever to marry for money. Athreat on your part that you would disinherit him in case ofdisobedience would only be followed by resistance on his."

"Why, hang it, man, you don't call offering him eight or ten thousand ayear threatening him?" Mr. Osborne said, with still provoking goodhumour. "'Gad, if Miss S. will have me, I'm her man. I ain'tparticular about a shade or so of tawny." And the old gentleman gavehis knowing grin and coarse laugh.

"You forget, sir, previous engagements into which Captain Osborne hadentered," the ambassador said, gravely.

"What engagements? What the devil do you mean? You don't mean," Mr.Osborne continued, gathering wrath and astonishment as the thought nowfirst came upon him; "you don't mean that he's such a d---- fool as tobe still hankering after that swindling old bankrupt's daughter? You'venot come here for to make me suppose that he wants to marry HER? MarryHER, that IS a good one. My son and heir marry a beggar's girl out ofa gutter. D---- him, if he does, let him buy a broom and sweep acrossing. She was always dangling and ogling after him, I recollectnow; and I've no doubt she was put on by her old sharper of a father."

"Mr. Sedley was your very good friend, sir," Dobbin interposed, almostpleased at finding himself growing angry. "Time was you called himbetter names than rogue and swindler. The match was of your making.George had no right to play fast and loose--"

"Fast and loose!" howled out old Osborne. "Fast and loose! Why, hangme, those are the very words my gentleman used himself when he gavehimself airs, last Thursday was a fortnight, and talked about theBritish army to his father who made him. What, it's you who have beena setting of him up--is it? and my service to you, CAPTAIN. It's youwho want to introduce beggars into my family. Thank you for nothing,Captain. Marry HER indeed--he, he! why should he? I warrant you she'dgo to him fast enough without."

"Sir," said Dobbin, starting up in undisguised anger; "no man shallabuse that lady in my hearing, and you least of all."

"O, you're a-going to call me out, are you? Stop, let me ring the bellfor pistols for two. Mr. George sent you here to insult his father,did he?" Osborne said, pulling at the bell-cord.

"Mr. Osborne," said Dobbin, with a faltering voice, "it's you who areinsulting the best creature in the world. You had best spare her, sir,for she's your son's wife."

And with this, feeling that he could say no more, Dobbin went away,Osborne sinking back in his chair, and looking wildly after him. Aclerk came in, obedient to the bell; and the Captain was scarcely outof the court where Mr. Osborne's offices were, when Mr. Chopper thechief clerk came rushing hatless after him.

"For God's sake, what is it?" Mr. Chopper said, catching the Captain bythe skirt. "The governor's in a fit. What has Mr. George been doing?"

"He married Miss Sedley five days ago," Dobbin replied. "I was hisgroomsman, Mr. Chopper, and you must stand his friend."

The old clerk shook his head. "If that's your news, Captain, it's bad.The governor will never forgive him."

Dobbin begged Chopper to report progress to him at the hotel where hewas stopping, and walked off moodily westwards, greatly perturbed as tothe past and the future.

When the Russell Square family came to dinner that evening, they foundthe father of the house seated in his usual place, but with that air ofgloom on his face, which, whenever it appeared there, kept the wholecircle silent. The ladies, and Mr. Bullock who dined with them, feltthat the news had been communicated to Mr. Osborne. His dark looksaffected Mr. Bullock so far as to render him still and quiet: but hewas unusually bland and attentive to Miss Maria, by whom he sat, and toher sister presiding at the head of the table.

Miss Wirt, by consequence, was alone on her side of the board, a gapbeing left between her and Miss Jane Osborne. Now this was George'splace when he dined at home; and his cover, as we said, was laid forhim in expectation of that truant's return. Nothing occurred duringdinner-time except smiling Mr. Frederick's flagging confidentialwhispers, and the clinking of plate and china, to interrupt the silenceof the repast. The servants went about stealthily doing their duty.Mutes at funerals could not look more glum than the domestics of Mr.Osborne The neck of venison of which he had invited Dobbin to partake,was carved by him in perfect silence; but his own share went awayalmost untasted, though he drank much, and the butler assiduouslyfilled his glass.

At last, just at the end of the dinner, his eyes, which had beenstaring at everybody in turn, fixed themselves for a while upon theplate laid for George. He pointed to it presently with his left hand.His daughters looked at him and did not comprehend, or choose tocomprehend, the signal; nor did the servants at first understand it.

"Take that plate away," at last he said, getting up with an oath--andwith this pushing his chair back, he walked into his own room.

Behind Mr. Osborne's dining-room was the usual apartment which went inhis house by the name of the study; and was sacred to the master of thehouse. Hither Mr. Osborne would retire of a Sunday forenoon when notminded to go to church; and here pass the morning in his crimsonleather chair, reading the paper. A couple of glazed book-cases werehere, containing standard works in stout gilt bindings. The "AnnualRegister," the "Gentleman's Magazine," "Blair's Sermons," and "Hume andSmollett." From year's end to year's end he never took one of thesevolumes from the shelf; but there was no member of the family thatwould dare for his life to touch one of the books, except upon thoserare Sunday evenings when there was no dinner-party, and when the greatscarlet Bible and Prayer-book were taken out from the corner where theystood beside his copy of the Peerage, and the servants being rung up tothe dining parlour, Osborne read the evening service to his family in aloud grating pompous voice. No member of the household, child, ordomestic, ever entered that room without a certain terror. Here hechecked the housekeeper's accounts, and overhauled the butler'scellar-book. Hence he could command, across the clean gravelcourt-yard, the back entrance of the stables with which one of hisbells communicated, and into this yard the coachman issued from hispremises as into a dock, and Osborne swore at him from the studywindow. Four times a year Miss Wirt entered this apartment to get hersalary; and his daughters to receive their quarterly allowance. Georgeas a boy had been horsewhipped in this room many times; his mothersitting sick on the stair listening to the cuts of the whip. The boywas scarcely ever known to cry under the punishment; the poor womanused to fondle and kiss him secretly, and give him money to soothe himwhen he came out.

There was a picture of the family over the mantelpiece, removed thitherfrom the front room after Mrs. Osborne's death--George was on a pony,the elder sister holding him up a bunch of flowers; the younger led byher mother's hand; all with red cheeks and large red mouths, simperingon each other in the approved family-portrait manner. The mother layunderground now, long since forgotten--the sisters and brother had ahundred different interests of their own, and, familiar still, wereutterly estranged from each other. Some few score of years afterwards,when all the parties represented are grown old, what bitter satirethere is in those flaunting childish family-portraits, with their farceof sentiment and smiling lies, and innocence so self-conscious andself-satisfied. Osborne's own state portrait, with that of his greatsilver inkstand and arm-chair, had taken the place of honour in thedining-room, vacated by the family-piece.

To this study old Osborne retired then, greatly to the relief of thesmall party whom he left. When the servants had withdrawn, they beganto talk for a while volubly but very low; then they went upstairsquietly, Mr. Bullock accompanying them stealthily on his creakingshoes. He had no heart to sit alone drinking wine, and so close to theterrible old gentleman in the study hard at hand.

An hour at least after dark, the butler, not having received anysummons, ventured to tap at his door and take him in wax candles andtea. The master of the house sate in his chair, pretending to read thepaper, and when the servant, placing the lights and refreshment on thetable by him, retired, Mr. Osborne got up and locked the door afterhim. This time there was no mistaking the matter; all the householdknew that some great catastrophe was going to happen which was likelydirely to affect Master George.

In the large shining mahogany escritoire Mr. Osborne had a drawerespecially devoted to his son's affairs and papers. Here he kept allthe documents relating to him ever since he had been a boy: here werehis prize copy-books and drawing-books, all bearing George's hand, andthat of the master: here were his first letters in large round-handsending his love to papa and mamma, and conveying his petitions for acake. His dear godpapa Sedley was more than once mentioned in them.Curses quivered on old Osborne's livid lips, and horrid hatred anddisappointment writhed in his heart, as looking through some of thesepapers he came on that name. They were all marked and docketed, andtied with red tape. It was--"From Georgy, requesting 5s., April 23,18--; answered, April 25"--or "Georgy about a pony, October 13"--and soforth. In another packet were "Dr. S.'s accounts"--"G.'s tailor's billsand outfits, drafts on me by G. Osborne, jun.," &c.--his letters fromthe West Indies--his agent's letters, and the newspapers containing hiscommissions: here was a whip he had when a boy, and in a paper a locketcontaining his hair, which his mother used to wear.

Turning one over after another, and musing over these memorials, theunhappy man passed many hours. His dearest vanities, ambitious hopes,had all been here. What pride he had in his boy! He was thehandsomest child ever seen. Everybody said he was like a nobleman'sson. A royal princess had remarked him, and kissed him, and asked hisname in Kew Gardens. What City man could show such another? Could aprince have been better cared for? Anything that money could buy hadbeen his son's. He used to go down on speech-days with four horses andnew liveries, and scatter new shillings among the boys at the schoolwhere George was: when he went with George to the depot of hisregiment, before the boy embarked for Canada, he gave the officers sucha dinner as the Duke of York might have sat down to. Had he everrefused a bill when George drew one? There they were--paid without aword. Many a general in the army couldn't ride the horses he had! Hehad the child before his eyes, on a hundred different days when heremembered George after dinner, when he used to come in as bold as alord and drink off his glass by his father's side, at the head of thetable--on the pony at Brighton, when he cleared the hedge and kept upwith the huntsman--on the day when he was presented to the PrinceRegent at the levee, when all Saint James's couldn't produce a fineryoung fellow. And this, this was the end of all!--to marry a bankruptand fly in the face of duty and fortune! What humiliation and fury:what pangs of sickening rage, balked ambition and love; what wounds ofoutraged vanity, tenderness even, had this old worldling now to sufferunder!

Having examined these papers, and pondered over this one and the other,in that bitterest of all helpless woe, with which miserable men thinkof happy past times--George's father took the whole of the documentsout of the drawer in which he had kept them so long, and locked theminto a writing-box, which he tied, and sealed with his seal. Then heopened the book-case, and took down the great red Bible we have spokenof a pompous book, seldom looked at, and shining all over with gold.There was a frontispiece to the volume, representing Abrahamsacrificing Isaac. Here, according to custom, Osborne had recorded onthe fly-leaf, and in his large clerk-like hand, the dates of hismarriage and his wife's death, and the births and Christian names ofhis children. Jane came first, then George Sedley Osborne, then MariaFrances, and the days of the christening of each. Taking a pen, hecarefully obliterated George's names from the page; and when the leafwas quite dry, restored the volume to the place from which he had movedit. Then he took a document out of another drawer, where his ownprivate papers were kept; and having read it, crumpled it up andlighted it at one of the candles, and saw it burn entirely away in thegrate. It was his will; which being burned, he sate down and wrote offa letter, and rang for his servant, whom he charged to deliver it inthe morning. It was morning already: as he went up to bed, the wholehouse was alight with the sunshine; and the birds were singing amongthe fresh green leaves in Russell Square.

Anxious to keep all Mr. Osborne's family and dependants in good humour,and to make as many friends as possible for George in his hour ofadversity, William Dobbin, who knew the effect which good dinners andgood wines have upon the soul of man, wrote off immediately on hisreturn to his inn the most hospitable of invitations to Thomas Chopper,Esquire, begging that gentleman to dine with him at the Slaughters'next day. The note reached Mr. Chopper before he left the City, andthe instant reply was, that "Mr. Chopper presents his respectfulcompliments, and will have the honour and pleasure of waiting onCaptain D." The invitation and the rough draft of the answer wereshown to Mrs. Chopper and her daughters on his return to Somers' Townthat evening, and they talked about military gents and West End menwith great exultation as the family sate and partook of tea. When thegirls had gone to rest, Mr. and Mrs. C. discoursed upon the strangeevents which were occurring in the governor's family. Never had theclerk seen his principal so moved. When he went in to Mr. Osborne,after Captain Dobbin's departure, Mr. Chopper found his chief black inthe face, and all but in a fit: some dreadful quarrel, he was certain,had occurred between Mr. O. and the young Captain. Chopper had beeninstructed to make out an account of all sums paid to Captain Osbornewithin the last three years. "And a precious lot of money he has hadtoo," the chief clerk said, and respected his old and young master themore, for the liberal way in which the guineas had been flung about.The dispute was something about Miss Sedley. Mrs. Chopper vowed anddeclared she pitied that poor young lady to lose such a handsome youngfellow as the Capting. As the daughter of an unlucky speculator, whohad paid a very shabby dividend, Mr. Chopper had no great regard forMiss Sedley. He respected the house of Osborne before all others inthe City of London: and his hope and wish was that Captain Georgeshould marry a nobleman's daughter. The clerk slept a great dealsounder than his principal that night; and, cuddling his children afterbreakfast (of which he partook with a very hearty appetite, though hismodest cup of life was only sweetened with brown sugar), he set off inhis best Sunday suit and frilled shirt for business, promising hisadmiring wife not to punish Captain D.'s port too severely that evening.

Mr. Osborne's countenance, when he arrived in the City at his usualtime, struck those dependants who were accustomed, for good reasons, towatch its expression, as peculiarly ghastly and worn. At twelveo'clock Mr. Higgs (of the firm of Higgs & Blatherwick, solicitors,Bedford Row) called by appointment, and was ushered into the governor'sprivate room, and closeted there for more than an hour. At about oneMr. Chopper received a note brought by Captain Dobbin's man, andcontaining an inclosure for Mr. Osborne, which the clerk went in anddelivered. A short time afterwards Mr. Chopper and Mr. Birch, the nextclerk, were summoned, and requested to witness a paper. "I've beenmaking a new will," Mr. Osborne said, to which these gentlemen appendedtheir names accordingly. No conversation passed. Mr. Higgs lookedexceedingly grave as he came into the outer rooms, and very hard in Mr.Chopper's face; but there were not any explanations. It was remarkedthat Mr. Osborne was particularly quiet and gentle all day, to thesurprise of those who had augured ill from his darkling demeanour. Hecalled no man names that day, and was not heard to swear once. He leftbusiness early; and before going away, summoned his chief clerk oncemore, and having given him general instructions, asked him, after someseeming hesitation and reluctance to speak, if he knew whether CaptainDobbin was in town?

Chopper said he believed he was. Indeed both of them knew the factperfectly.

Osborne took a letter directed to that officer, and giving it to theclerk, requested the latter to deliver it into Dobbin's own handsimmediately.

"And now, Chopper," says he, taking his hat, and with a strange look,"my mind will be easy." Exactly as the clock struck two (there was nodoubt an appointment between the pair) Mr. Frederick Bullock called,and he and Mr. Osborne walked away together.

The Colonel of the --th regiment, in which Messieurs Dobbin and Osbornehad companies, was an old General who had made his first campaign underWolfe at Quebec, and was long since quite too old and feeble forcommand; but he took some interest in the regiment of which he was thenominal head, and made certain of his young officers welcome at histable, a kind of hospitality which I believe is not now common amongsthis brethren. Captain Dobbin was an especial favourite of this oldGeneral. Dobbin was versed in the literature of his profession, andcould talk about the great Frederick, and the Empress Queen, and theirwars, almost as well as the General himself, who was indifferent to thetriumphs of the present day, and whose heart was with the tacticians offifty years back. This officer sent a summons to Dobbin to come andbreakfast with him, on the morning when Mr. Osborne altered his willand Mr. Chopper put on his best shirt frill, and then informed hisyoung favourite, a couple of days in advance, of that which they wereall expecting--a marching order to go to Belgium. The order for theregiment to hold itself in readiness would leave the Horse Guards in aday or two; and as transports were in plenty, they would get theirroute before the week was over. Recruits had come in during the stayof the regiment at Chatham; and the old General hoped that the regimentwhich had helped to beat Montcalm in Canada, and to rout Mr. Washingtonon Long Island, would prove itself worthy of its historical reputationon the oft-trodden battle-grounds of the Low Countries. "And so, mygood friend, if you have any affaire la," said the old General, taking apinch of snuff with his trembling white old hand, and then pointing tothe spot of his robe de chambre under which his heart was still feeblybeating, "if you have any Phillis to console, or to bid farewell topapa and mamma, or any will to make, I recommend you to set about yourbusiness without delay." With which the General gave his young friend afinger to shake, and a good-natured nod of his powdered and pigtailedhead; and the door being closed upon Dobbin, sate down to pen a poulet(he was exceedingly vain of his French) to Mademoiselle Amenaide of HisMajesty's Theatre.

This news made Dobbin grave, and he thought of our friends at Brighton,and then he was ashamed of himself that Amelia was always the firstthing in his thoughts (always before anybody--before father and mother,sisters and duty--always at waking and sleeping indeed, and all daylong); and returning to his hotel, he sent off a brief note to Mr.Osborne acquainting him with the information which he had received, andwhich might tend farther, he hoped, to bring about a reconciliationwith George.

This note, despatched by the same messenger who had carried theinvitation to Chopper on the previous day, alarmed the worthy clerk nota little. It was inclosed to him, and as he opened the letter hetrembled lest the dinner should be put off on which he was calculating.His mind was inexpressibly relieved when he found that the envelope wasonly a reminder for himself. ("I shall expect you at half-past five,"Captain Dobbin wrote.) He was very much interested about his employer'sfamily; but, que voulez-vous? a grand dinner was of more concern to himthan the affairs of any other mortal.

Dobbin was quite justified in repeating the General's information toany officers of the regiment whom he should see in the course of hisperegrinations; accordingly he imparted it to Ensign Stubble, whom hemet at the agent's, and who--such was his military ardour--went offinstantly to purchase a new sword at the accoutrement-maker's. Herethis young fellow, who, though only seventeen years of age, and aboutsixty-five inches high, with a constitution naturally rickety and muchimpaired by premature brandy and water, had an undoubted courage and alion's heart, poised, tried, bent, and balanced a weapon such as hethought would do execution amongst Frenchmen. Shouting "Ha, ha!" andstamping his little feet with tremendous energy, he delivered the pointtwice or thrice at Captain Dobbin, who parried the thrust laughinglywith his bamboo walking-stick.

Mr. Stubble, as may be supposed from his size and slenderness, was ofthe Light Bobs. Ensign Spooney, on the contrary, was a tall youth, andbelonged to (Captain Dobbin's) the Grenadier Company, and he tried on anew bearskin cap, under which he looked savage beyond his years. Thenthese two lads went off to the Slaughters', and having ordered a famousdinner, sate down and wrote off letters to the kind anxious parents athome--letters full of love and heartiness, and pluck and bad spelling.Ah! there were many anxious hearts beating through England at thattime; and mothers' prayers and tears flowing in many homesteads.

Seeing young Stubble engaged in composition at one of the coffee-roomtables at the Slaughters', and the tears trickling down his nose on tothe paper (for the youngster was thinking of his mamma, and that hemight never see her again), Dobbin, who was going to write off a letterto George Osborne, relented, and locked up his desk. "Why should I?"said he. "Let her have this night happy. I'll go and see my parentsearly in the morning, and go down to Brighton myself to-morrow."

So he went up and laid his big hand on young Stubble's shoulder, andbacked up that young champion, and told him if he would leave offbrandy and water he would be a good soldier, as he always was agentlemanly good-hearted fellow. Young Stubble's eyes brightened up atthis, for Dobbin was greatly respected in the regiment, as the bestofficer and the cleverest man in it.

"Thank you, Dobbin," he said, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles, "Iwas just--just telling her I would. And, O Sir, she's so dam kind tome." The water pumps were at work again, and I am not sure that thesoft-hearted Captain's eyes did not also twinkle.

The two ensigns, the Captain, and Mr. Chopper, dined together in thesame box. Chopper brought the letter from Mr. Osborne, in which thelatter briefly presented his compliments to Captain Dobbin, andrequested him to forward the inclosed to Captain George Osborne.Chopper knew nothing further; he described Mr. Osborne's appearance, itis true, and his interview with his lawyer, wondered how the governorhad sworn at nobody, and--especially as the wine circledround--abounded in speculations and conjectures. But these grew morevague with every glass, and at length became perfectly unintelligible.At a late hour Captain Dobbin put his guest into a hackney coach, in ahiccupping state, and swearing that he would be the kick--thekick--Captain's friend for ever and ever.

When Captain Dobbin took leave of Miss Osborne we have said that heasked leave to come and pay her another visit, and the spinsterexpected him for some hours the next day, when, perhaps, had he come,and had he asked her that question which she was prepared to answer,she would have declared herself as her brother's friend, and areconciliation might have been effected between George and his angryfather. But though she waited at home the Captain never came. He hadhis own affairs to pursue; his own parents to visit and console; and atan early hour of the day to take his place on the Lightning coach, andgo down to his friends at Brighton. In the course of the day MissOsborne heard her father give orders that that meddling scoundrel,Captain Dobbin, should never be admitted within his doors again, andany hopes in which she may have indulged privately were thus abruptlybrought to an end. Mr. Frederick Bullock came, and was particularlyaffectionate to Maria, and attentive to the broken-spirited oldgentleman. For though he said his mind would be easy, the means whichhe had taken to secure quiet did not seem to have succeeded as yet, andthe events of the past two days had visibly shattered him.