The heir of Crawley arrived at home, in due time, after thiscatastrophe, and henceforth may be said to have reigned in Queen'sCrawley. For though the old Baronet survived many months, he neverrecovered the use of his intellect or his speech completely, and thegovernment of the estate devolved upon his elder son. In a strangecondition Pitt found it. Sir Pitt was always buying and mortgaging; hehad twenty men of business, and quarrels with each; quarrels with allhis tenants, and lawsuits with them; lawsuits with the lawyers;lawsuits with the Mining and Dock Companies in which he was proprietor;and with every person with whom he had business. To unravel thesedifficulties and to set the estate clear was a task worthy of theorderly and persevering diplomatist of Pumpernickel, and he set himselfto work with prodigious assiduity. His whole family, of course, wastransported to Queen's Crawley, whither Lady Southdown, of course, cametoo; and she set about converting the parish under the Rector's nose,and brought down her irregular clergy to the dismay of the angry MrsBute. Sir Pitt had concluded no bargain for the sale of the living ofQueen's Crawley; when it should drop, her Ladyship proposed to take thepatronage into her own hands and present a young protege to theRectory, on which subject the diplomatic Pitt said nothing.

Mrs. Bute's intentions with regard to Miss Betsy Horrocks were notcarried into effect, and she paid no visit to Southampton Gaol. Sheand her father left the Hall when the latter took possession of theCrawley Arms in the village, of which he had got a lease from Sir Pitt.The ex-butler had obtained a small freehold there likewise, which gavehim a vote for the borough. The Rector had another of these votes, andthese and four others formed the representative body which returned thetwo members for Queen's Crawley.

There was a show of courtesy kept up between the Rectory and the Hallladies, between the younger ones at least, for Mrs. Bute and LadySouthdown never could meet without battles, and gradually ceased seeingeach other. Her Ladyship kept her room when the ladies from theRectory visited their cousins at the Hall. Perhaps Mr. Pitt was notvery much displeased at these occasional absences of his mamma-in-law.He believed the Binkie family to be the greatest and wisest and mostinteresting in the world, and her Ladyship and his aunt had long heldascendency over him; but sometimes he felt that she commanded him toomuch. To be considered young was complimentary, doubtless, but atsix-and-forty to be treated as a boy was sometimes mortifying. LadyJane yielded up everything, however, to her mother. She was only fondof her children in private, and it was lucky for her that LadySouthdown's multifarious business, her conferences with ministers, andher correspondence with all the missionaries of Africa, Asia, andAustralasia, &c., occupied the venerable Countess a great deal, so thatshe had but little time to devote to her granddaughter, the littleMatilda, and her grandson, Master Pitt Crawley. The latter was a feeblechild, and it was only by prodigious quantities of calomel that LadySouthdown was able to keep him in life at all.

As for Sir Pitt he retired into those very apartments where LadyCrawley had been previously extinguished, and here was tended by MissHester, the girl upon her promotion, with constant care and assiduity.What love, what fidelity, what constancy is there equal to that of anurse with good wages? They smooth pillows; and make arrowroot; theyget up at nights; they bear complaints and querulousness; they see thesun shining out of doors and don't want to go abroad; they sleep onarm-chairs and eat their meals in solitude; they pass long longevenings doing nothing, watching the embers, and the patient's drinksimmering in the jug; they read the weekly paper the whole weekthrough; and Law's Serious Call or the Whole Duty of Man suffices themfor literature for the year--and we quarrel with them because, whentheir relations come to see them once a week, a little gin is smuggledin in their linen basket. Ladies, what man's love is there that wouldstand a year's nursing of the object of his affection? Whereas a nursewill stand by you for ten pounds a quarter, and we think her too highlypaid. At least Mr. Crawley grumbled a good deal about paying half asmuch to Miss Hester for her constant attendance upon the Baronet hisfather.

Of sunshiny days this old gentleman was taken out in a chair on theterrace--the very chair which Miss Crawley had had at Brighton, andwhich had been transported thence with a number of Lady Southdown'seffects to Queen's Crawley. Lady Jane always walked by the old man,and was an evident favourite with him. He used to nod many times toher and smile when she came in, and utter inarticulate deprecatorymoans when she was going away. When the door shut upon her he wouldcry and sob--whereupon Hester's face and manner, which was alwaysexceedingly bland and gentle while her lady was present, would changeat once, and she would make faces at him and clench her fist and screamout "Hold your tongue, you stoopid old fool," and twirl away his chairfrom the fire which he loved to look at--at which he would cry more.For this was all that was left after more than seventy years ofcunning, and struggling, and drinking, and scheming, and sin andselfishness--a whimpering old idiot put in and out of bed and cleanedand fed like a baby.

At last a day came when the nurse's occupation was over. Early onemorning, as Pitt Crawley was at his steward's and bailiff's books inthe study, a knock came to the door, and Hester presented herself,dropping a curtsey, and said,

"If you please, Sir Pitt, Sir Pitt died this morning, Sir Pitt. I wasa-making of his toast, Sir Pitt, for his gruel, Sir Pitt, which he tookevery morning regular at six, Sir Pitt, and--I thought I heard amoan-like, Sir Pitt--and--and--and--" She dropped another curtsey.

What was it that made Pitt's pale face flush quite red? Was it becausehe was Sir Pitt at last, with a seat in Parliament, and perhaps futurehonours in prospect? "I'll clear the estate now with the ready money,"he thought and rapidly calculated its incumbrances and the improvementswhich he would make. He would not use his aunt's money previously lestSir Pitt should recover and his outlay be in vain.

All the blinds were pulled down at the Hall and Rectory: the churchbell was tolled, and the chancel hung in black; and Bute Crawley didn'tgo to a coursing meeting, but went and dined quietly at Fuddleston,where they talked about his deceased brother and young Sir Pitt overtheir port. Miss Betsy, who was by this time married to a saddler atMudbury, cried a good deal. The family surgeon rode over and paid hisrespectful compliments, and inquiries for the health of theirladyships. The death was talked about at Mudbury and at the CrawleyArms, the landlord whereof had become reconciled with the Rector oflate, who was occasionally known to step into the parlour and taste Mr.Horrocks' mild beer.

"Shall I write to your brother--or will you?" asked Lady Jane of herhusband, Sir Pitt.

"I will write, of course," Sir Pitt said, "and invite him to thefuneral: it will be but becoming."

"And--and--Mrs. Rawdon," said Lady Jane timidly.

"Jane!" said Lady Southdown, "how can you think of such a thing?"

"Mrs. Rawdon must of course be asked," said Sir Pitt, resolutely.

"Not whilst I am in the house!" said Lady Southdown.

"Your Ladyship will be pleased to recollect that I am the head of thisfamily," Sir Pitt replied. "If you please, Lady Jane, you will write aletter to Mrs. Rawdon Crawley, requesting her presence upon thismelancholy occasion."

"Jane, I forbid you to put pen to paper!" cried the Countess.

"I believe I am the head of this family," Sir Pitt repeated; "andhowever much I may regret any circumstance which may lead to yourLadyship quitting this house, must, if you please, continue to governit as I see fit."

Lady Southdown rose up as magnificent as Mrs. Siddons in Lady Macbethand ordered that horses might be put to her carriage. If her son anddaughter turned her out of their house, she would hide her sorrowssomewhere in loneliness and pray for their conversion to betterthoughts.

"We don't turn you out of our house, Mamma," said the timid Lady Janeimploringly.

"You invite such company to it as no Christian lady should meet, and Iwill have my horses to-morrow morning."

"Have the goodness to write, Jane, under my dictation," said Sir Pitt,rising and throwing himself into an attitude of command, like theportrait of a Gentleman in the Exhibition, "and begin. 'Queen'sCrawley, September 14, 1822.--My dear brother--'"

Hearing these decisive and terrible words, Lady Macbeth, who had beenwaiting for a sign of weakness or vacillation on the part of herson-in-law, rose and, with a scared look, left the library. Lady Janelooked up to her husband as if she would fain follow and soothe hermamma, but Pitt forbade his wife to move.

"She won't go away," he said. "She has let her house at Brighton andhas spent her last half-year's dividends. A Countess living at an innis a ruined woman. I have been waiting long for an opportunity--totake this--this decisive step, my love; for, as you must perceive, itis impossible that there should be two chiefs in a family: and now, ifyou please, we will resume the dictation. 'My dear brother, themelancholy intelligence which it is my duty to convey to my family musthave been long anticipated by,'" &c.

In a word, Pitt having come to his kingdom, and having by good luck, ordesert rather, as he considered, assumed almost all the fortune whichhis other relatives had expected, was determined to treat his familykindly and respectably and make a house of Queen's Crawley once more.It pleased him to think that he should be its chief. He proposed touse the vast influence that his commanding talents and position mustspeedily acquire for him in the county to get his brother placed andhis cousins decently provided for, and perhaps had a little sting ofrepentance as he thought that he was the proprietor of all that theyhad hoped for. In the course of three or four days' reign his bearingwas changed and his plans quite fixed: he determined to rule justlyand honestly, to depose Lady Southdown, and to be on the friendliestpossible terms with all the relations of his blood.

So he dictated a letter to his brother Rawdon--a solemn and elaborateletter, containing the profoundest observations, couched in the longestwords, and filling with wonder the simple little secretary, who wroteunder her husband's order. "What an orator this will be," thought she,"when he enters the House of Commons" (on which point, and on thetyranny of Lady Southdown, Pitt had sometimes dropped hints to his wifein bed); "how wise and good, and what a genius my husband is! Ifancied him a little cold; but how good, and what a genius!"

The fact is, Pitt Crawley had got every word of the letter by heart andhad studied it, with diplomatic secrecy, deeply and perfectly, longbefore he thought fit to communicate it to his astonished wife.

This letter, with a huge black border and seal, was accordinglydespatched by Sir Pitt Crawley to his brother the Colonel, in London.Rawdon Crawley was but half-pleased at the receipt of it. "What's theuse of going down to that stupid place?" thought he. "I can't standbeing alone with Pitt after dinner, and horses there and back will costus twenty pound."

He carried the letter, as he did all difficulties, to Becky, upstairsin her bedroom--with her chocolate, which he always made and took toher of a morning.

He put the tray with the breakfast and the letter on the dressing-table,before which Becky sat combing her yellow hair. She took up theblack-edged missive, and having read it, she jumped up from the chair,crying "Hurray!" and waving the note round her head.

"Hurray?" said Rawdon, wondering at the little figure capering about ina streaming flannel dressing-gown, with tawny locks dishevelled. "He'snot left us anything, Becky. I had my share when I came of age."

"You'll never be of age, you silly old man," Becky replied. "Run outnow to Madam Brunoy's, for I must have some mourning: and get a crapeon your hat, and a black waistcoat--I don't think you've got one; orderit to be brought home to-morrow, so that we may be able to start onThursday."

"You don't mean to go?" Rawdon interposed.

"Of course I mean to go. I mean that Lady Jane shall present me atCourt next year. I mean that your brother shall give you a seat inParliament, you stupid old creature. I mean that Lord Steyne shallhave your vote and his, my dear, old silly man; and that you shall bean Irish Secretary, or a West Indian Governor: or a Treasurer, or aConsul, or some such thing."

"Posting will cost a dooce of a lot of money," grumbled Rawdon.

"We might take Southdown's carriage, which ought to be present at thefuneral, as he is a relation of the family: but, no--I intend that weshall go by the coach. They'll like it better. It seems more humble--"

"Rawdy goes, of course?" the Colonel asked.

"No such thing; why pay an extra place? He's too big to travel bodkinbetween you and me. Let him stay here in the nursery, and Briggs canmake him a black frock. Go you, and do as I bid you. And you had besttell Sparks, your man, that old Sir Pitt is dead and that you will comein for something considerable when the affairs are arranged. He'lltell this to Raggles, who has been pressing for money, and it willconsole poor Raggles." And so Becky began sipping her chocolate.

When the faithful Lord Steyne arrived in the evening, he found Beckyand her companion, who was no other than our friend Briggs, busycutting, ripping, snipping, and tearing all sorts of black stuffsavailable for the melancholy occasion.

"Miss Briggs and I are plunged in grief and despondency for the deathof our Papa," Rebecca said. "Sir Pitt Crawley is dead, my lord. Wehave been tearing our hair all the morning, and now we are tearing upour old clothes."

"Oh, Rebecca, how can you--" was all that Briggs could say as sheturned up her eyes.

"Oh, Rebecca, how can you--" echoed my Lord. "So that old scoundrel'sdead, is he? He might have been a Peer if he had played his cardsbetter. Mr. Pitt had very nearly made him; but he ratted always at thewrong time. What an old Silenus it was!"

"I might have been Silenus's widow," said Rebecca. "Don't you remember,Miss Briggs, how you peeped in at the door and saw old Sir Pitt on hisknees to me?" Miss Briggs, our old friend, blushed very much at thisreminiscence, and was glad when Lord Steyne ordered her to godownstairs and make him a cup of tea.

Briggs was the house-dog whom Rebecca had provided as guardian of herinnocence and reputation. Miss Crawley had left her a little annuity.She would have been content to remain in the Crawley family with LadyJane, who was good to her and to everybody; but Lady Southdowndismissed poor Briggs as quickly as decency permitted; and Mr. Pitt(who thought himself much injured by the uncalled-for generosity of hisdeceased relative towards a lady who had only been Miss Crawley'sfaithful retainer a score of years) made no objection to that exerciseof the dowager's authority. Bowls and Firkin likewise received theirlegacies and their dismissals, and married and set up a lodging-house,according to the custom of their kind.

Briggs tried to live with her relations in the country, but found thatattempt was vain after the better society to which she had beenaccustomed. Briggs's friends, small tradesmen, in a country town,quarrelled over Miss Briggs's forty pounds a year as eagerly and moreopenly than Miss Crawley's kinsfolk had for that lady's inheritance.Briggs's brother, a radical hatter and grocer, called his sister apurse-proud aristocrat, because she would not advance a part of hercapital to stock his shop; and she would have done so most likely, butthat their sister, a dissenting shoemaker's lady, at variance with thehatter and grocer, who went to another chapel, showed how their brotherwas on the verge of bankruptcy, and took possession of Briggs for awhile. The dissenting shoemaker wanted Miss Briggs to send his son tocollege and make a gentleman of him. Between them the two families gota great portion of her private savings out of her, and finally she fledto London followed by the anathemas of both, and determined to seek forservitude again as infinitely less onerous than liberty. Andadvertising in the papers that a "Gentlewoman of agreeable manners, andaccustomed to the best society, was anxious to," &c., she took up herresidence with Mr. Bowls in Half Moon Street, and waited the result ofthe advertisement.

So it was that she fell in with Rebecca. Mrs. Rawdon's dashing littlecarriage and ponies was whirling down the street one day, just as MissBriggs, fatigued, had reached Mr. Bowls's door, after a weary walk tothe Times Office in the City to insert her advertisement for the sixthtime. Rebecca was driving, and at once recognized the gentlewoman withagreeable manners, and being a perfectly good-humoured woman, as wehave seen, and having a regard for Briggs, she pulled up the ponies atthe doorsteps, gave the reins to the groom, and jumping out, had holdof both Briggs's hands, before she of the agreeable manners hadrecovered from the shock of seeing an old friend.

Briggs cried, and Becky laughed a great deal and kissed the gentlewomanas soon as they got into the passage; and thence into Mrs. Bowls'sfront parlour, with the red moreen curtains, and the roundlooking-glass, with the chained eagle above, gazing upon the back ofthe ticket in the window which announced "Apartments to Let."

Briggs told all her history amidst those perfectly uncalled-for sobsand ejaculations of wonder with which women of her soft nature salutean old acquaintance, or regard a rencontre in the street; for thoughpeople meet other people every day, yet some there are who insist upondiscovering miracles; and women, even though they have disliked eachother, begin to cry when they meet, deploring and remembering the timewhen they last quarrelled. So, in a word, Briggs told all her history,and Becky gave a narrative of her own life, with her usual artlessnessand candour.

Mrs. Bowls, late Firkin, came and listened grimly in the passage to thehysterical sniffling and giggling which went on in the front parlour.Becky had never been a favourite of hers. Since the establishment ofthe married couple in London they had frequented their former friendsof the house of Raggles, and did not like the latter's account of theColonel's menage. "I wouldn't trust him, Ragg, my boy," Bowlsremarked; and his wife, when Mrs. Rawdon issued from the parlour, onlysaluted the lady with a very sour curtsey; and her fingers were like somany sausages, cold and lifeless, when she held them out in deferenceto Mrs. Rawdon, who persisted in shaking hands with the retired lady'smaid. She whirled away into Piccadilly, nodding with the sweetest ofsmiles towards Miss Briggs, who hung nodding at the window close underthe advertisement-card, and at the next moment was in the park with ahalf-dozen of dandies cantering after her carriage.

When she found how her friend was situated, and how having a snuglegacy from Miss Crawley, salary was no object to our gentlewoman,Becky instantly formed some benevolent little domestic plans concerningher. This was just such a companion as would suit her establishment,and she invited Briggs to come to dinner with her that very evening,when she should see Becky's dear little darling Rawdon.

Mrs. Bowls cautioned her lodger against venturing into the lion's den,"wherein you will rue it, Miss B., mark my words, and as sure as myname is Bowls." And Briggs promised to be very cautious. The upshot ofwhich caution was that she went to live with Mrs. Rawdon the next week,and had lent Rawdon Crawley six hundred pounds upon annuity before sixmonths were over.