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And now, being received as a member of the amiable family whoseportraits we have sketched in the foregoing pages, it became naturallyRebecca's duty to make herself, as she said, agreeable to herbenefactors, and to gain their confidence to the utmost of her power.Who can but admire this quality of gratitude in an unprotected orphan;and, if there entered some degree of selfishness into her calculations,who can say but that her prudence was perfectly justifiable? "I amalone in the world," said the friendless girl. "I have nothing to lookfor but what my own labour can bring me; and while that littlepink-faced chit Amelia, with not half my sense, has ten thousand poundsand an establishment secure, poor Rebecca (and my figure is far betterthan hers) has only herself and her own wits to trust to. Well, let ussee if my wits cannot provide me with an honourable maintenance, and ifsome day or the other I cannot show Miss Amelia my real superiorityover her. Not that I dislike poor Amelia: who can dislike such aharmless, good-natured creature?--only it will be a fine day when I cantake my place above her in the world, as why, indeed, should I not?"Thus it was that our little romantic friend formed visions of thefuture for herself--nor must we be scandalised that, in all her castlesin the air, a husband was the principal inhabitant. Of what else haveyoung ladies to think, but husbands? Of what else do their dear mammasthink? "I must be my own mamma," said Rebecca; not without a tinglingconsciousness of defeat, as she thought over her little misadventurewith Jos Sedley.

So she wisely determined to render her position with the Queen'sCrawley family comfortable and secure, and to this end resolved to makefriends of every one around her who could at all interfere with hercomfort.

As my Lady Crawley was not one of these personages, and a woman,moreover, so indolent and void of character as not to be of the leastconsequence in her own house, Rebecca soon found that it was not at allnecessary to cultivate her good will--indeed, impossible to gain it.She used to talk to her pupils about their "poor mamma"; and, thoughshe treated that lady with every demonstration of cool respect, it wasto the rest of the family that she wisely directed the chief part ofher attentions.

With the young people, whose applause she thoroughly gained, her methodwas pretty simple. She did not pester their young brains with too muchlearning, but, on the contrary, let them have their own way in regardto educating themselves; for what instruction is more effectual thanself-instruction? The eldest was rather fond of books, and as there wasin the old library at Queen's Crawley a considerable provision of worksof light literature of the last century, both in the French and Englishlanguages (they had been purchased by the Secretary of the Tape andSealing Wax Office at the period of his disgrace), and as nobody evertroubled the bookshelves but herself, Rebecca was enabled agreeably,and, as it were, in playing, to impart a great deal of instruction toMiss Rose Crawley.

She and Miss Rose thus read together many delightful French and Englishworks, among which may be mentioned those of the learned Dr. Smollett,of the ingenious Mr. Henry Fielding, of the graceful and fantasticMonsieur Crebillon the younger, whom our immortal poet Gray so muchadmired, and of the universal Monsieur de Voltaire. Once, when Mr.Crawley asked what the young people were reading, the governess replied"Smollett." "Oh, Smollett," said Mr. Crawley, quite satisfied. "Hishistory is more dull, but by no means so dangerous as that of Mr. Hume.It is history you are reading?" "Yes," said Miss Rose; without,however, adding that it was the history of Mr. Humphrey Clinker. Onanother occasion he was rather scandalised at finding his sister with abook of French plays; but as the governess remarked that it was for thepurpose of acquiring the French idiom in conversation, he was fain tobe content. Mr. Crawley, as a diplomatist, was exceedingly proud ofhis own skill in speaking the French language (for he was of the worldstill), and not a little pleased with the compliments which thegoverness continually paid him upon his proficiency.

Miss Violet's tastes were, on the contrary, more rude and boisterousthan those of her sister. She knew the sequestered spots where thehens laid their eggs. She could climb a tree to rob the nests of thefeathered songsters of their speckled spoils. And her pleasure was toride the young colts, and to scour the plains like Camilla. She was thefavourite of her father and of the stablemen. She was the darling, andwithal the terror of the cook; for she discovered the haunts of thejam-pots, and would attack them when they were within her reach. Sheand her sister were engaged in constant battles. Any of whichpeccadilloes, if Miss Sharp discovered, she did not tell them to LadyCrawley; who would have told them to the father, or worse, to Mr.Crawley; but promised not to tell if Miss Violet would be a good girland love her governess.

With Mr. Crawley Miss Sharp was respectful and obedient. She used toconsult him on passages of French which she could not understand,though her mother was a Frenchwoman, and which he would construe to hersatisfaction: and, besides giving her his aid in profane literature, hewas kind enough to select for her books of a more serious tendency, andaddress to her much of his conversation. She admired, beyond measure,his speech at the Quashimaboo-Aid Society; took an interest in hispamphlet on malt: was often affected, even to tears, by his discoursesof an evening, and would say--"Oh, thank you, sir," with a sigh, and alook up to heaven, that made him occasionally condescend to shake handswith her. "Blood is everything, after all," would that aristocraticreligionist say. "How Miss Sharp is awakened by my words, when not oneof the people here is touched. I am too fine for them--too delicate. Imust familiarise my style--but she understands it. Her mother was aMontmorency."

Indeed it was from this famous family, as it appears, that Miss Sharp,by the mother's side, was descended. Of course she did not say that hermother had been on the stage; it would have shocked Mr. Crawley'sreligious scruples. How many noble emigres had this horrid revolutionplunged in poverty! She had several stories about her ancestors ereshe had been many months in the house; some of which Mr. Crawleyhappened to find in D'Hozier's dictionary, which was in the library,and which strengthened his belief in their truth, and in thehigh-breeding of Rebecca. Are we to suppose from this curiosity andprying into dictionaries, could our heroine suppose that Mr. Crawleywas interested in her?--no, only in a friendly way. Have we not statedthat he was attached to Lady Jane Sheepshanks?

He took Rebecca to task once or twice about the propriety of playing atbackgammon with Sir Pitt, saying that it was a godless amusement, andthat she would be much better engaged in reading "Thrump's Legacy," or"The Blind Washerwoman of Moorfields," or any work of a more seriousnature; but Miss Sharp said her dear mother used often to play the samegame with the old Count de Trictrac and the venerable Abbe du Cornet,and so found an excuse for this and other worldly amusements.

But it was not only by playing at backgammon with the Baronet, that thelittle governess rendered herself agreeable to her employer. She foundmany different ways of being useful to him. She read over, withindefatigable patience, all those law papers, with which, before shecame to Queen's Crawley, he had promised to entertain her. Shevolunteered to copy many of his letters, and adroitly altered thespelling of them so as to suit the usages of the present day. Shebecame interested in everything appertaining to the estate, to thefarm, the park, the garden, and the stables; and so delightful acompanion was she, that the Baronet would seldom take hisafter-breakfast walk without her (and the children of course), when shewould give her advice as to the trees which were to be lopped in theshrubberies, the garden-beds to be dug, the crops which were to be cut,the horses which were to go to cart or plough. Before she had been ayear at Queen's Crawley she had quite won the Baronet's confidence; andthe conversation at the dinner-table, which before used to be heldbetween him and Mr. Horrocks the butler, was now almost exclusivelybetween Sir Pitt and Miss Sharp. She was almost mistress of the housewhen Mr. Crawley was absent, but conducted herself in her new andexalted situation with such circumspection and modesty as not to offendthe authorities of the kitchen and stable, among whom her behaviour wasalways exceedingly modest and affable. She was quite a differentperson from the haughty, shy, dissatisfied little girl whom we haveknown previously, and this change of temper proved great prudence, asincere desire of amendment, or at any rate great moral courage on herpart. Whether it was the heart which dictated this new system ofcomplaisance and humility adopted by our Rebecca, is to be proved byher after-history. A system of hypocrisy, which lasts through wholeyears, is one seldom satisfactorily practised by a person ofone-and-twenty; however, our readers will recollect, that, though youngin years, our heroine was old in life and experience, and we havewritten to no purpose if they have not discovered that she was a veryclever woman.

The elder and younger son of the house of Crawley were, like thegentleman and lady in the weather-box, never at home together--theyhated each other cordially: indeed, Rawdon Crawley, the dragoon, had agreat contempt for the establishment altogether, and seldom camethither except when his aunt paid her annual visit.

The great good quality of this old lady has been mentioned. Shepossessed seventy thousand pounds, and had almost adopted Rawdon. Shedisliked her elder nephew exceedingly, and despised him as a milksop.In return he did not hesitate to state that her soul was irretrievablylost, and was of opinion that his brother's chance in the next worldwas not a whit better. "She is a godless woman of the world," wouldMr. Crawley say; "she lives with atheists and Frenchmen. My mindshudders when I think of her awful, awful situation, and that, near asshe is to the grave, she should be so given up to vanity,licentiousness, profaneness, and folly." In fact, the old lady declinedaltogether to hear his hour's lecture of an evening; and when she cameto Queen's Crawley alone, he was obliged to pretermit his usualdevotional exercises.

"Shut up your sarmons, Pitt, when Miss Crawley comes down," said hisfather; "she has written to say that she won't stand the preachifying."

"O, sir! consider the servants."

"The servants be hanged," said Sir Pitt; and his son thought even worsewould happen were they deprived of the benefit of his instruction.

"Why, hang it, Pitt!" said the father to his remonstrance. "Youwouldn't be such a flat as to let three thousand a year go out of thefamily?"

"What is money compared to our souls, sir?" continued Mr. Crawley.

"You mean that the old lady won't leave the money to you?"--and whoknows but it was Mr. Crawley's meaning?

Old Miss Crawley was certainly one of the reprobate. She had a snuglittle house in Park Lane, and, as she ate and drank a great deal toomuch during the season in London, she went to Harrowgate or Cheltenhamfor the summer. She was the most hospitable and jovial of old vestals,and had been a beauty in her day, she said. (All old women werebeauties once, we very well know.) She was a bel esprit, and a dreadfulRadical for those days. She had been in France (where St. Just, theysay, inspired her with an unfortunate passion), and loved, ever after,French novels, French cookery, and French wines. She read Voltaire,and had Rousseau by heart; talked very lightly about divorce, and mostenergetically of the rights of women. She had pictures of Mr. Fox inevery room in the house: when that statesman was in opposition, I amnot sure that she had not flung a main with him; and when he came intooffice, she took great credit for bringing over to him Sir Pitt and hiscolleague for Queen's Crawley, although Sir Pitt would have come overhimself, without any trouble on the honest lady's part. It is needlessto say that Sir Pitt was brought to change his views after the death ofthe great Whig statesman.

This worthy old lady took a fancy to Rawdon Crawley when a boy, senthim to Cambridge (in opposition to his brother at Oxford), and, whenthe young man was requested by the authorities of the first-namedUniversity to quit after a residence of two years, she bought him hiscommission in the Life Guards Green.

A perfect and celebrated "blood," or dandy about town, was this youngofficer. Boxing, rat-hunting, the fives court, and four-in-handdriving were then the fashion of our British aristocracy; and he was anadept in all these noble sciences. And though he belonged to thehousehold troops, who, as it was their duty to rally round the PrinceRegent, had not shown their valour in foreign service yet, RawdonCrawley had already (apropos of play, of which he was immoderatelyfond) fought three bloody duels, in which he gave ample proofs of hiscontempt for death.

"And for what follows after death," would Mr. Crawley observe, throwinghis gooseberry-coloured eyes up to the ceiling. He was always thinkingof his brother's soul, or of the souls of those who differed with himin opinion: it is a sort of comfort which many of the serious givethemselves.

Silly, romantic Miss Crawley, far from being horrified at the courageof her favourite, always used to pay his debts after his duels; andwould not listen to a word that was whispered against his morality."He will sow his wild oats," she would say, "and is worth far more thanthat puling hypocrite of a brother of his."