Our Major had rendered himself so popular on board the Ramchunder thatwhen he and Mr. Sedley descended into the welcome shore-boat which wasto take them from the ship, the whole crew, men and officers, the greatCaptain Bragg himself leading off, gave three cheers for Major Dobbin,who blushed very much and ducked his head in token of thanks. Jos, whovery likely thought the cheers were for himself, took off hisgold-laced cap and waved it majestically to his friends, and they werepulled to shore and landed with great dignity at the pier, whence theyproceeded to the Royal George Hotel.

Although the sight of that magnificent round of beef, and the silvertankard suggestive of real British home-brewed ale and porter, whichperennially greet the eyes of the traveller returning from foreignparts who enters the coffee-room of the George, are so invigorating anddelightful that a man entering such a comfortable snug homely Englishinn might well like to stop some days there, yet Dobbin began to talkabout a post-chaise instantly, and was no sooner at Southampton than hewished to be on the road to London. Jos, however, would not hear ofmoving that evening. Why was he to pass a night in a post-chaiseinstead of a great large undulating downy feather-bed which was thereready to replace the horrid little narrow crib in which the portlyBengal gentleman had been confined during the voyage? He could notthink of moving till his baggage was cleared, or of travelling until hecould do so with his chillum. So the Major was forced to wait overthat night, and dispatched a letter to his family announcing hisarrival, entreating from Jos a promise to write to his own friends.Jos promised, but didn't keep his promise. The Captain, the surgeon,and one or two passengers came and dined with our two gentlemen at theinn, Jos exerting himself in a sumptuous way in ordering the dinner andpromising to go to town the next day with the Major. The landlord saidit did his eyes good to see Mr. Sedley take off his first pint ofporter. If I had time and dared to enter into digressions, I wouldwrite a chapter about that first pint of porter drunk upon Englishground. Ah, how good it is! It is worth-while to leave home for ayear, just to enjoy that one draught.

Major Dobbin made his appearance the next morning very neatly shavedand dressed, according to his wont. Indeed, it was so early in themorning that nobody was up in the house except that wonderful Boots ofan inn who never seems to want sleep; and the Major could hear thesnores of the various inmates of the house roaring through thecorridors as he creaked about in those dim passages. Then thesleepless Boots went shirking round from door to door, gathering up ateach the Bluchers, Wellingtons, Oxonians, which stood outside. ThenJos's native servant arose and began to get ready his master'sponderous dressing apparatus and prepare his hookah; then themaidservants got up, and meeting the dark man in the passages,shrieked, and mistook him for the devil. He and Dobbin stumbled overtheir pails in the passages as they were scouring the decks of theRoyal George. When the first unshorn waiter appeared and unbarred thedoor of the inn, the Major thought that the time for departure wasarrived, and ordered a post-chaise to be fetched instantly, that theymight set off.

He then directed his steps to Mr. Sedley's room and opened the curtainsof the great large family bed wherein Mr. Jos was snoring. "Come, up!Sedley," the Major said, "it's time to be off; the chaise will be atthe door in half an hour."

Jos growled from under the counterpane to know what the time was; butwhen he at last extorted from the blushing Major (who never told fibs,however they might be to his advantage) what was the real hour of themorning, he broke out into a volley of bad language, which we will notrepeat here, but by which he gave Dobbin to understand that he wouldjeopardy his soul if he got up at that moment, that the Major might goand be hanged, that he would not travel with Dobbin, and that it wasmost unkind and ungentlemanlike to disturb a man out of his sleep inthat way; on which the discomfited Major was obliged to retreat,leaving Jos to resume his interrupted slumbers.

The chaise came up presently, and the Major would wait no longer.

If he had been an English nobleman travelling on a pleasure tour, or anewspaper courier bearing dispatches (government messages are generallycarried much more quietly), he could not have travelled more quickly.The post-boys wondered at the fees he flung amongst them. How happy andgreen the country looked as the chaise whirled rapidly from mile-stoneto mile-stone, through neat country towns where landlords came out towelcome him with smiles and bows; by pretty roadside inns, where thesigns hung on the elms, and horses and waggoners were drinking underthe chequered shadow of the trees; by old halls and parks; rustichamlets clustered round ancient grey churches--and through the charmingfriendly English landscape. Is there any in the world like it? To atraveller returning home it looks so kind--it seems to shake hands withyou as you pass through it. Well, Major Dobbin passed through all thisfrom Southampton to London, and without noting much beyond themilestones along the road. You see he was so eager to see his parentsat Camberwell.

He grudged the time lost between Piccadilly and his old haunt at theSlaughters', whither he drove faithfully. Long years had passed sincehe saw it last, since he and George, as young men, had enjoyed many afeast, and held many a revel there. He had now passed into the stageof old-fellow-hood. His hair was grizzled, and many a passion andfeeling of his youth had grown grey in that interval. There, however,stood the old waiter at the door, in the same greasy black suit, withthe same double chin and flaccid face, with the same huge bunch ofseals at his fob, rattling his money in his pockets as before, andreceiving the Major as if he had gone away only a week ago. "Put theMajor's things in twenty-three, that's his room," John said, exhibitingnot the least surprise. "Roast fowl for your dinner, I suppose. Youain't got married? They said you was married--the Scotch surgeon ofyours was here. No, it was Captain Humby of the thirty-third, as wasquartered with the --th in Injee. Like any warm water? What do you comein a chay for--ain't the coach good enough?" And with this, thefaithful waiter, who knew and remembered every officer who used thehouse, and with whom ten years were but as yesterday, led the way up toDobbin's old room, where stood the great moreen bed, and the shabbycarpet, a thought more dingy, and all the old black furniture coveredwith faded chintz, just as the Major recollected them in his youth.

He remembered George pacing up and down the room, and biting his nails,and swearing that the Governor must come round, and that if he didn't,he didn't care a straw, on the day before he was married. He couldfancy him walking in, banging the door of Dobbin's room, and his ownhard by--

"You ain't got young," John said, calmly surveying his friend of formerdays.

Dobbin laughed. "Ten years and a fever don't make a man young, John,"he said. "It is you that are always young--no, you are always old."

"What became of Captain Osborne's widow?" John said. "Fine youngfellow that. Lord, how he used to spend his money. He never came backafter that day he was marched from here. He owes me three pound atthis minute. Look here, I have it in my book. 'April 10, 1815,Captain Osborne: '3 pounds.' I wonder whether his father would payme," and so saying, John of the Slaughters' pulled out the very moroccopocket-book in which he had noted his loan to the Captain, upon agreasy faded page still extant, with many other scrawled memorandaregarding the bygone frequenters of the house.

Having inducted his customer into the room, John retired with perfectcalmness; and Major Dobbin, not without a blush and a grin at his ownabsurdity, chose out of his kit the very smartest and most becomingcivil costume he possessed, and laughed at his own tanned face and greyhair, as he surveyed them in the dreary little toilet-glass on thedressing-table.

"I'm glad old John didn't forget me," he thought. "She'll know me, too,I hope." And he sallied out of the inn, bending his steps once more inthe direction of Brompton.

Every minute incident of his last meeting with Amelia was present tothe constant man's mind as he walked towards her house. The arch andthe Achilles statue were up since he had last been in Piccadilly; ahundred changes had occurred which his eye and mind vaguely noted. Hebegan to tremble as he walked up the lane from Brompton, thatwell-remembered lane leading to the street where she lived. Was shegoing to be married or not? If he were to meet her with the littleboy--Good God, what should he do? He saw a woman coming to him with achild of five years old--was that she? He began to shake at the merepossibility. When he came up to the row of houses, at last, where shelived, and to the gate, he caught hold of it and paused. He might haveheard the thumping of his own heart. "May God Almighty bless her,whatever has happened," he thought to himself. "Psha! she may be gonefrom here," he said and went in through the gate.

The window of the parlour which she used to occupy was open, and therewere no inmates in the room. The Major thought he recognized thepiano, though, with the picture over it, as it used to be in formerdays, and his perturbations were renewed. Mr. Clapp's brass plate wasstill on the door, at the knocker of which Dobbin performed a summons.

A buxom-looking lass of sixteen, with bright eyes and purple cheeks,came to answer the knock and looked hard at the Major as he leant backagainst the little porch.

He was as pale as a ghost and could hardly falter out the words--"DoesMrs. Osborne live here?"

She looked him hard in the face for a moment--and then turning whitetoo--said, "Lord bless me--it's Major Dobbin." She held out both herhands shaking--"Don't you remember me?" she said. "I used to call youMajor Sugarplums." On which, and I believe it was for the first timethat he ever so conducted himself in his life, the Major took the girlin his arms and kissed her. She began to laugh and cry hysterically,and calling out "Ma, Pa!" with all her voice, brought up those worthypeople, who had already been surveying the Major from the casement ofthe ornamental kitchen, and were astonished to find their daughter inthe little passage in the embrace of a great tall man in a bluefrock-coat and white duck trousers.

"I'm an old friend," he said--not without blushing though. "Don't youremember me, Mrs. Clapp, and those good cakes you used to make for tea?Don't you recollect me, Clapp? I'm George's godfather, and just comeback from India." A great shaking of hands ensued--Mrs. Clapp wasgreatly affected and delighted; she called upon heaven to interpose avast many times in that passage.

The landlord and landlady of the house led the worthy Major into theSedleys' room (whereof he remembered every single article of furniture,from the old brass ornamented piano, once a natty little instrument,Stothard maker, to the screens and the alabaster miniature tombstone,in the midst of which ticked Mr. Sedley's gold watch), and there, as hesat down in the lodger's vacant arm-chair, the father, the mother, andthe daughter, with a thousand ejaculatory breaks in the narrative,informed Major Dobbin of what we know already, but of particulars inAmelia's history of which he was not aware--namely of Mrs. Sedley'sdeath, of George's reconcilement with his grandfather Osborne, of theway in which the widow took on at leaving him, and of other particularsof her life. Twice or thrice he was going to ask about the marriagequestion, but his heart failed him. He did not care to lay it bare tothese people. Finally, he was informed that Mrs. O. was gone to walkwith her pa in Kensington Gardens, whither she always went with the oldgentleman (who was very weak and peevish now, and led her a sad life,though she behaved to him like an angel, to be sure), of a fineafternoon, after dinner.

"I'm very much pressed for time," the Major said, "and have businessto-night of importance. I should like to see Mrs. Osborne tho'.Suppose Miss Polly would come with me and show me the way?"

Miss Polly was charmed and astonished at this proposal. She knew theway. She would show Major Dobbin. She had often been with Mr. Sedleywhen Mrs. O. was gone--was gone Russell Square way--and knew the benchwhere he liked to sit. She bounced away to her apartment and appearedpresently in her best bonnet and her mamma's yellow shawl and largepebble brooch, of which she assumed the loan in order to make herself aworthy companion for the Major.

That officer, then, in his blue frock-coat and buckskin gloves, gavethe young lady his arm, and they walked away very gaily. He was gladto have a friend at hand for the scene which he dreaded somehow. Heasked a thousand more questions from his companion about Amelia: hiskind heart grieved to think that she should have had to part with herson. How did she bear it? Did she see him often? Was Mr. Sedley prettycomfortable now in a worldly point of view? Polly answered all thesequestions of Major Sugarplums to the very best of her power.

And in the midst of their walk an incident occurred which, though verysimple in its nature, was productive of the greatest delight to MajorDobbin. A pale young man with feeble whiskers and a stiff whiteneckcloth came walking down the lane, en sandwich--having a lady, thatis, on each arm. One was a tall and commanding middle-aged female,with features and a complexion similar to those of the clergyman of theChurch of England by whose side she marched, and the other a stuntedlittle woman with a dark face, ornamented by a fine new bonnet andwhite ribbons, and in a smart pelisse, with a rich gold watch in themidst of her person. The gentleman, pinioned as he was by these twoladies, carried further a parasol, shawl, and basket, so that his armswere entirely engaged, and of course he was unable to touch his hat inacknowledgement of the curtsey with which Miss Mary Clapp greeted him.

He merely bowed his head in reply to her salutation, which the twoladies returned with a patronizing air, and at the same time lookingseverely at the individual in the blue coat and bamboo cane whoaccompanied Miss Polly.

"Who's that?" asked the Major, amused by the group, and after he hadmade way for the three to pass up the lane. Mary looked at him ratherroguishly.

"That is our curate, the Reverend Mr. Binny (a twitch from MajorDobbin), and his sister Miss B. Lord bless us, how she did use toworret us at Sunday-school; and the other lady, the little one with acast in her eye and the handsome watch, is Mrs. Binny--Miss Grits thatwas; her pa was a grocer, and kept the Little Original Gold Tea Pot inKensington Gravel Pits. They were married last month, and are justcome back from Margate. She's five thousand pound to her fortune; buther and Miss B., who made the match, have quarrelled already."

If the Major had twitched before, he started now, and slapped thebamboo on the ground with an emphasis which made Miss Clapp cry, "Law,"and laugh too. He stood for a moment, silent, with open mouth, lookingafter the retreating young couple, while Miss Mary told their history;but he did not hear beyond the announcement of the reverend gentleman'smarriage; his head was swimming with felicity. After this rencontre hebegan to walk double quick towards the place of his destination--andyet they were too soon (for he was in a great tremor at the idea of ameeting for which he had been longing any time these tenyears)--through the Brompton lanes, and entering at the little oldportal in Kensington Garden wall.

"There they are," said Miss Polly, and she felt him again start back onher arm. She was a confidante at once of the whole business. She knewthe story as well as if she had read it in one of her favouritenovel-books--Fatherless Fanny, or the Scottish Chiefs.

"Suppose you were to run on and tell her," the Major said. Polly ranforward, her yellow shawl streaming in the breeze.

Old Sedley was seated on a bench, his handkerchief placed over hisknees, prattling away, according to his wont, with some old story aboutold times to which Amelia had listened and awarded a patient smile manya time before. She could of late think of her own affairs, and smileor make other marks of recognition of her father's stories, scarcelyhearing a word of the old man's tales. As Mary came bouncing along, andAmelia caught sight of her, she started up from her bench. Her firstthought was that something had happened to Georgy, but the sight of themessenger's eager and happy face dissipated that fear in the timorousmother's bosom.

"News! News!" cried the emissary of Major Dobbin. "He's come! He'scome!"

"Who is come?" said Emmy, still thinking of her son.

"Look there," answered Miss Clapp, turning round and pointing; in whichdirection Amelia looking, saw Dobbin's lean figure and long shadowstalking across the grass. Amelia started in her turn, blushed up,and, of course, began to cry. At all this simple little creature'sfetes, the grandes eaux were accustomed to play. He looked at her--oh,how fondly--as she came running towards him, her hands before her,ready to give them to him. She wasn't changed. She was a little pale,a little stouter in figure. Her eyes were the same, the kind trustfuleyes. There were scarce three lines of silver in her soft brown hair.She gave him both her hands as she looked up flushing and smilingthrough her tears into his honest homely face. He took the two littlehands between his two and held them there. He was speechless for amoment. Why did he not take her in his arms and swear that he wouldnever leave her? She must have yielded: she could not but have obeyedhim.

"I--I've another arrival to announce," he said after a pause.

"Mrs. Dobbin?" Amelia said, making a movement back--why didn't he speak?

"No," he said, letting her hands go: "Who has told you those lies? Imean, your brother Jos came in the same ship with me, and is come hometo make you all happy."

"Papa, Papa!" Emmy cried out, "here are news! My brother is inEngland. He is come to take care of you. Here is Major Dobbin."

Mr. Sedley started up, shaking a great deal and gathering up histhoughts. Then he stepped forward and made an old-fashioned bow to theMajor, whom he called Mr. Dobbin, and hoped his worthy father, SirWilliam, was quite well. He proposed to call upon Sir William, who haddone him the honour of a visit a short time ago. Sir William had notcalled upon the old gentleman for eight years--it was that visit he wasthinking of returning.

"He is very much shaken," Emmy whispered as Dobbin went up andcordially shook hands with the old man.

Although he had such particular business in London that evening, theMajor consented to forego it upon Mr. Sedley's invitation to him tocome home and partake of tea. Amelia put her arm under that of heryoung friend with the yellow shawl and headed the party on their returnhomewards, so that Mr. Sedley fell to Dobbin's share. The old manwalked very slowly and told a number of ancient histories about himselfand his poor Bessy, his former prosperity, and his bankruptcy. Histhoughts, as is usual with failing old men, were quite in former times.The present, with the exception of the one catastrophe which he felt,he knew little about. The Major was glad to let him talk on. His eyeswere fixed upon the figure in front of him--the dear little figurealways present to his imagination and in his prayers, and visiting hisdreams wakeful or slumbering.

Amelia was very happy, smiling, and active all that evening, performingher duties as hostess of the little entertainment with the utmost graceand propriety, as Dobbin thought. His eyes followed her about as theysat in the twilight. How many a time had he longed for that moment andthought of her far away under hot winds and in weary marches, gentleand happy, kindly ministering to the wants of old age, and decoratingpoverty with sweet submission--as he saw her now. I do not say thathis taste was the highest, or that it is the duty of great intellectsto be content with a bread-and-butter paradise, such as sufficed oursimple old friend; but his desires were of this sort, whether for goodor bad, and, with Amelia to help him, he was as ready to drink as manycups of tea as Doctor Johnson.

Amelia seeing this propensity, laughingly encouraged it and lookedexceedingly roguish as she administered to him cup after cup. It istrue she did not know that the Major had had no dinner and that thecloth was laid for him at the Slaughters', and a plate laid thereon tomark that the table was retained, in that very box in which the Majorand George had sat many a time carousing, when she was a child justcome home from Miss Pinkerton's school.

The first thing Mrs. Osborne showed the Major was Georgy's miniature,for which she ran upstairs on her arrival at home. It was not halfhandsome enough of course for the boy, but wasn't it noble of him tothink of bringing it to his mother? Whilst her papa was awake she didnot talk much about Georgy. To hear about Mr. Osborne and RussellSquare was not agreeable to the old man, who very likely wasunconscious that he had been living for some months past mainly on thebounty of his richer rival, and lost his temper if allusion was made tothe other.

Dobbin told him all, and a little more perhaps than all, that hadhappened on board the Ramchunder, and exaggerated Jos's benevolentdispositions towards his father and resolution to make him comfortablein his old days. The truth is that during the voyage the Major hadimpressed this duty most strongly upon his fellow-passenger andextorted promises from him that he would take charge of his sister andher child. He soothed Jos's irritation with regard to the bills whichthe old gentleman had drawn upon him, gave a laughing account of hisown sufferings on the same score and of the famous consignment of winewith which the old man had favoured him, and brought Mr. Jos, who wasby no means an ill-natured person when well-pleased and moderatelyflattered, to a very good state of feeling regarding his relatives inEurope.

And in fine I am ashamed to say that the Major stretched the truth sofar as to tell old Mr. Sedley that it was mainly a desire to see hisparent which brought Jos once more to Europe.

At his accustomed hour Mr. Sedley began to doze in his chair, and thenit was Amelia's opportunity to commence her conversation, which she didwith great eagerness--it related exclusively to Georgy. She did nottalk at all about her own sufferings at breaking from him, for indeed,this worthy woman, though she was half-killed by the separation fromthe child, yet thought it was very wicked in her to repine at losinghim; but everything concerning him, his virtues, talents, andprospects, she poured out. She described his angelic beauty; narrateda hundred instances of his generosity and greatness of mind whilstliving with her; how a Royal Duchess had stopped and admired him inKensington Gardens; how splendidly he was cared for now, and how he hada groom and a pony; what quickness and cleverness he had, and what aprodigiously well-read and delightful person the Reverend Lawrence Vealwas, George's master. "He knows EVERYTHING," Amelia said. "He has themost delightful parties. You who are so learned yourself, and haveread so much, and are so clever and accomplished--don't shake your headand say no--HE always used to say you were--you will be charmed withMr. Veal's parties. The last Tuesday in every month. He says there isno place in the bar or the senate that Georgy may not aspire to. Lookhere," and she went to the piano-drawer and drew out a theme ofGeorgy's composition. This great effort of genius, which is still inthe possession of George's mother, is as follows:

On Selfishness--Of all the vices which degrade the human character,Selfishness is the most odious and contemptible. An undue love of Selfleads to the most monstrous crimes and occasions the greatestmisfortunes both in States and Families. As a selfish man willimpoverish his family and often bring them to ruin, so a selfish kingbrings ruin on his people and often plunges them into war.

Example: The selfishness of Achilles, as remarked by the poet Homer,occasioned a thousand woes to the Greeks--muri Achaiois algeetheke--(Hom. Il. A. 2). The selfishness of the late Napoleon Bonaparteoccasioned innumerable wars in Europe and caused him to perish,himself, in a miserable island--that of Saint Helena in the AtlanticOcean.

We see by these examples that we are not to consult our own interestand ambition, but that we are to consider the interests of others aswell as our own.

George S. Osborne Athene House, 24 April, 1827

"Think of him writing such a hand, and quoting Greek too, at his age,"the delighted mother said. "Oh, William," she added, holding out herhand to the Major, "what a treasure Heaven has given me in that boy!He is the comfort of my life--and he is the image of--of him that'sgone!"

"Ought I to be angry with her for being faithful to him?" Williamthought. "Ought I to be jealous of my friend in the grave, or hurtthat such a heart as Amelia's can love only once and for ever? Oh,George, George, how little you knew the prize you had, though." Thissentiment passed rapidly through William's mind as he was holdingAmelia's hand, whilst the handkerchief was veiling her eyes.

"Dear friend," she said, pressing the hand which held hers, "how good,how kind you always have been to me! See! Papa is stirring. You willgo and see Georgy tomorrow, won't you?"

"Not to-morrow," said poor old Dobbin. "I have business." He did notlike to own that he had not as yet been to his parents' and his dearsister Anne--a remissness for which I am sure every well-regulatedperson will blame the Major. And presently he took his leave, leavinghis address behind him for Jos, against the latter's arrival. And sothe first day was over, and he had seen her.

When he got back to the Slaughters', the roast fowl was of course cold,in which condition he ate it for supper. And knowing what early hourshis family kept, and that it would be needless to disturb theirslumbers at so late an hour, it is on record, that Major Dobbin treatedhimself to half-price at the Haymarket Theatre that evening, where letus hope he enjoyed himself.