In the midst of these intrigues and fine parties and
wise and brilliant personages Rawdon felt himself
more and more isolated every day. He was allowed
to go to the club more; to dine abroad with bachelor
friends; to come and go when he liked, without any
questions being asked. And he and Rawdon the
younger many a time would walk to Gaunt Street and
sit with the lady and the children there while Sir
Pitt was closeted with Rebecca, on his way to the
House, or on his return from it.
The ex-Colonel would sit for hours in his brother’s
house very silent, and thinking and doing as little
as possible. He was glad to be employed of an
errand; to go and make inquiries about a horse or
a servant, or to carve the roast mutton for the dinner
of the children. He was beat and cowed into laziness
and submission. Delilah had imprisoned him and
cut his hair off, too. The bold and reckless
young blood of ten-years back was subjugated and was
turned into a torpid, submissive, middle-aged, stout
gentleman.
And poor Lady Jane was aware that Rebecca had captivated
her husband, although she and Mrs. Rawdon my-deared
and my-loved each other every day they met.
CHAPTER XLVI
Struggles and Trials
Our friends at Brompton were meanwhile passing their
Christmas after their fashion and in a manner by no
means too cheerful.
Out of the hundred pounds a year, which was about
the amount of her income, the Widow Osborne had been
in the habit of giving up nearly three-fourths to
her father and mother, for the expenses of herself
and her little boy. With #120 more, supplied
by Jos, this family of four people, attended by a
single Irish servant who also did for Clapp and his
wife, might manage to live in decent comfort through
the year, and hold up their heads yet, and be able
to give a friend a dish of tea still, after the storms
and disappointments of their early life. Sedley
still maintained his ascendency over the family of
Mr. Clapp, his ex-clerk. Clapp remembered the
time when, sitting on the edge of the chair, he tossed
off a bumper to the health of “Mrs. S—,
Miss Emmy, and Mr. Joseph in India,” at the merchant’s
rich table in Russell Square. Time magnified
the splendour of those recollections in the honest
clerk’s bosom. Whenever he came up from
the kitchen-parlour to the drawing-room and partook
of tea or gin-and-water with Mr. Sedley, he would
say, “This was not what you was accustomed to
once, sir,” and as gravely and reverentially
drink the health of the ladies as he had done in the
days of their utmost prosperity. He thought
Miss ’Melia’s playing the divinest music
ever performed, and her the finest lady. He never
would sit down before Sedley at the club even, nor
would he have that gentleman’s character abused
by any member of the society. He had seen the
first men in London shaking hands with Mr. S—;
he said, “He’d known him in times when
Rothschild might be seen on ’Change with him
any day, and he owed him personally everythink.”
