could enjoy his hookah there with such perfect ease； and
could swagger down to the theatres； when minded； so
agreeably； that； perhaps； he would have remained
altogether at the Slaughters' had not his friend； the Major；
been at his elbow。 That gentleman would not let the
Bengalee rest until he had executed his promise of having
a home for Amelia and his father。 Jos was a soft fellow
in anybody's hands； Dobbin most active in anybody's
concerns but his own； the civilian was； therefore； an easy
victim to the guileless arts of this good…natured diplomatist
and was ready to do； to purchase； hire； or relinquish
whatever his friend thought fit。 Loll Jewab； of whom the
boys about St。 Martin's Lane used to make cruel fun
whenever he showed his dusky countenance in the street； was
sent back to Calcutta in the Lady Kicklebury East
Indiaman； in which Sir William Dobbin had a share； having
previously taught Jos's European the art of preparing
curries； pilaus； and pipes。 It was a matter of great delight
and occupation to Jos to superintend the building of a
smart chariot which he and the Major ordered in the
neighbouring Long Acre： and a pair of handsome horses
were jobbed； with which Jos drove about in state in the
park； or to call upon his Indian friends。 Amelia was not
seldom by his side on these excursions； when also Major
Dobbin would be seen in the back seat of the carriage。
At other times old Sedley and his daughter took
advantage of it； and Miss Clapp； who frequently
accompanied her friend； had great pleasure in being recognized
as she sat in the carriage； dressed in the famous yellow
shawl； by the young gentleman at the surgery； whose face
might commonly be seen over the window…blinds as she
passed。
Shortly after Jos's first appearance at Brompton； a
dismal scene； indeed； took place at that humble cottage at
which the Sedleys had passed the last ten years of their
life。 Jos's carriage （the temporary one； not the chariot
under construction） arrived one day and carried off old
Sedley and his daughterto return no more。 The tears
that were shed by the landlady and the landlady's
daughter at that event were as genuine tears of sorrow as any
that have been outpoured in the course of this history。
In their long acquaintanceship and intimacy they could
not recall a harsh word that had been uttered by Amelia
She had been all sweetness and kindness； always
thankful； always gentle； even when Mrs。 Clapp lost her own
temper and pressed for the rent。 When the kind creature
was going away for good and all； the landlady reproached
herself bitterly for ever having used a rough expression to
herhow she wept； as they stuck up with wafers on the
window； a paper notifying that the little rooms so long
occupied were to let！ They never would have such lodgers
again； that was quite clear。 After…life proved the truth of
this melancholy prophecy； and Mrs。 Clapp revenged
herself for the deterioration of mankind by levying the most
savage contributions upon the tea…caddies and legs of
mutton of her locataires。 Most of them scolded and
grumbled； some of them did not pay； none of them stayed。
The landlady might well regret those old； old friends； who
had left her。
As for Miss Mary； her sorrow at Amelia's departure
was such as I shall not attempt to depict。 From childhood
upwards she had been with her daily and had attached
herself so passionately to that dear good lady that when
the grand barouche came to carry her off into splendour；
she fainted in the arms of her friend； who was indeed
scarcely less affected than the good…natured girl。 Amelia
loved her like a daughter。 During eleven years the girl had
been her constant friend and associate。 The separation was
a very painful one indeed to her。 But it was of course
arranged that Mary was to come and stay often at the
grand new house whither Mrs。 Osborne was going； and
where Mary was sure she would never be so happy as
she had been in their humble cot； as Miss Clapp called it；
in the language of the novels which she loved。
Let us hope she was wrong in her judgement。 Poor
Emmy's days of happiness had been very few in that
humble cot。 A gloomy Fate had oppressed her there。 She
never liked to come back to the house after she had left
it； or to face the landlady who had tyrannized over her
when ill…humoured and unpaid； or when pleased had
treated her with a coarse familiarity scarcely less odious。
Her servility and fulsome compliments when Emmy was
in prosperity were not more to that lady's liking。 She
cast about notes of admiration all over the new house；
extolling every article of furniture or ornament； she
fingered Mrs。 Osborne's dresses and calculated their price。
Nothing could be too good for that sweet lady； she
vowed and protested。 But in the vulgar sycophant who
now paid court to her； Emmy always remembered the
coarse tyrant who had made her miserable many a time；
to whom she had been forced to put up petitions for
time； when the rent was overdue； who cried out at her
extravagance if she bought delicacies for her ailing mother
or father； who had seen her humble and trampled upon
her。
Nobody ever heard of these griefs； which had been
part of our poor little woman's lot in life。 She kept them
secret from her father； whose improvidence was the cause
of much of her misery。 She had to bear all the blame of
his misdoings； and indeed was so utterly gentle and
humble as to be made by nature for a victim。
I hope she is not to suffer much more of that hard
usage。 And； as in all griefs there is said to be some
consolation； I may mention that poor Mary； when left at her
friend's departure in a hysterical condition； was placed
under the medical treatment of the young fellow from
the surgery； under whose care she rallied after a short
period。 Emmy； when she went away from Brompton；
endowed Mary with every article of furniture that the house
contained； only taking away her pictures （the two
pictures over the bed） and her pianothat little old piano
which had now passed into a plaintive jingling old age；
but which she loved for reasons of her own。 She was a
child when first she played on it； and her parents gave it
her。 It had been given to her again since； as the reader
may remember； when her father's house was gone to ruin
and the instrument was recovered out of the wreck。
Major Dobbin was exceedingly pleased when； as he
was superintending the arrangements of Jos's new house
which the Major insisted should be very handsome and
comfortablethe cart arrived from Brompton； bringing
the trunks and bandboxes of the emigrants from that
village； and with them the old piano。 Amelia would have it
up in her sitting…room； a neat little apartment on the
second floor； adjoining her father's chamber； and where
the old gentleman sat commonly of evenings。
When the men appeared then bearing this old music…
box； and Amelia gave orders that it should be placed
in the chamber aforesaid； Dobbin was quite elated。 〃I'm
glad you've kept it；〃 he said in a very sentimental
manner。 〃I was afraid you didn't care about it。〃
〃I value it more than anything I have in the world；〃
said Amelia。
〃Do you； Amelia？〃 cried the Major。 The fact was；
as he had bought it himself； though he never said
anything about it； it never entered into his head to suppose
that Emmy should think anybody else was the purchaser；
and as a matter of course he fancied that she knew the
gift came from him。 〃Do you； Amelia？〃 he said； and
the question； the great question of all； was trembling
on his lips； when Emmy replied
〃Can I do otherwise？did not he give it me？〃
〃I did not know；〃 said poor old Dob； and his
countenance fell。
Emmy did not note the circumstance at the time； nor
take immediate heed of the very dismal expression which
honest Dobbin's countenance assumed； but she thought
of it afterwards。 And then it struck her； with inexpressible
pain and mortification too； that it was William who
was the giver of the piano； and not George； as she had
fancied。 It was not George's gift； the only one which she
had received from her lover； as she thoughtthe thing
she had cherished beyond all othersher dearest relic
and prize。 She had spoken to it about George； played
his favourite airs upon it； sat for long evening hours；
touching； to the best of her simple art； melancholy
harmonies on the keys； and weeping over them in silence。
It was not George's relic。 It was valueless now。 The next
time that old Sedley asked her to play； she said it was
shockingly out of tune； that she had a headache； that
she couldn't play。
Then； according to her custom； she rebuked herself
for her pettishness and ingratitude and determined to
make a reparation to honest William for the slight she
had not expressed to him； but had felt for his piano。
A few days afterwards； as they were seated in the
drawing…room； where Jos had fallen asleep with great comfort
after dinner； Amelia said with rather a faltering voice
to Major Dobbin
〃I have to beg your pardon for something。〃
〃About what？〃 said he。
〃Aboutabout that little square piano。 I never thanked
you for it when you gave it me； many； many years ago；
before I was married。