Young Georgy lorded over this soft and yielding nature; and the

contrast of its simplicity and delicacy with the coarse pomposity of

the dull old man with whom he next came in contact made him lord over

the latter too. If he had been a Prince Royal he could not have been

better brought up to think well of himself.

Whilst his mother was yearning after him at home, and I do believe

every hour of the day, and during most hours of the sad lonely nights,

thinking of him, this young gentleman had a number of pleasures and

consolations administered to him, which made him for his part bear the

separation from Amelia very easily. Little boys who cry when they are

going to school cry because they are going to a very uncomfortable

place. It is only a few who weep from sheer affection. When you think

that the eyes of your childhood dried at the sight of a piece of

gingerbread, and that a plum cake was a compensation for the agony of

parting with your mamma and sisters, oh my friend and brother, you need

not be too confident of your own fine feelings.

Well, then, Master George Osborne had every comfort and luxury that a

wealthy and lavish old grandfather thought fit to provide. The

coachman was instructed to purchase for him the handsomest pony which

could be bought for money, and on this George was taught to ride, first

at a riding-school, whence, after having performed satisfactorily

without stirrups, and over the leaping-bar, he was conducted through

the New Road to Regent's Park, and then to Hyde Park, where he rode in

state with Martin the coachman behind him. Old Osborne, who took

matters more easily in the City now, where he left his affairs to his

junior partners, would often ride out with Miss O. in the same

fashionable direction. As little Georgy came cantering up with his

dandified air and his heels down, his grandfather would nudge the lad's

aunt and say, "Look, Miss O." And he would laugh, and his face would

grow red with pleasure, as he nodded out of the window to the boy, as

the groom saluted the carriage, and the footman saluted Master George.

Here too his aunt, Mrs. Frederick Bullock (whose chariot might daily be

seen in the Ring, with bullocks or emblazoned on the panels and

harness, and three pasty-faced little Bullocks, covered with cockades

and feathers, staring from the windows) Mrs. Frederick Bullock, I say,

flung glances of the bitterest hatred at the little upstart as he rode

by with his hand on his side and his hat on one ear, as proud as a lord.

Though he was scarcely eleven years of age, Master George wore straps

and the most beautiful little boots like a man. He had gilt spurs, and

a gold-headed whip, and a fine pin in his handkerchief, and the neatest

little kid gloves which Lamb's Conduit Street could furnish. His mother

had given him a couple of neckcloths, and carefully hemmed and made

some little shirts for him; but when her Eli came to see the widow,

they were replaced by much finer linen. He had little jewelled buttons

in the lawn shirt fronts. Her humble presents had been put aside--I

believe Miss Osborne had given them to the coachman's boy. Amelia

tried to think she was pleased at the change. Indeed, she was happy

and charmed to see the boy looking so beautiful.




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