Our sermon books are shut up when Miss Crawley arrives, and Mr. Pitt,

whom she abominates, finds it convenient to go to town. On the other

hand, the young dandy--"blood," I believe, is the term--Captain Crawley

makes his appearance, and I suppose you will like to know what sort of

a person he is.

Well, he is a very large young dandy. He is six feet high, and speaks

with a great voice; and swears a great deal; and orders about the

servants, who all adore him nevertheless; for he is very generous of

his money, and the domestics will do anything for him. Last week the

keepers almost killed a bailiff and his man who came down from London

to arrest the Captain, and who were found lurking about the Park

wall--they beat them, ducked them, and were going to shoot them for

poachers, but the baronet interfered.

The Captain has a hearty contempt for his father, I can see, and calls

him an old PUT, an old SNOB, an old CHAW-BACON, and numberless other

pretty names. He has a DREADFUL REPUTATION among the ladies. He brings

his hunters home with him, lives with the Squires of the county, asks

whom he pleases to dinner, and Sir Pitt dares not say no, for fear of

offending Miss Crawley, and missing his legacy when she dies of her

apoplexy. Shall I tell you a compliment the Captain paid me? I must,

it is so pretty. One evening we actually had a dance; there was Sir

Huddleston Fuddleston and his family, Sir Giles Wapshot and his young

ladies, and I don't know how many more. Well, I heard him say--"By

Jove, she's a neat little filly!" meaning your humble servant; and he

did me the honour to dance two country-dances with me. He gets on

pretty gaily with the young Squires, with whom he drinks, bets, rides,

and talks about hunting and shooting; but he says the country girls are

BORES; indeed, I don't think he is far wrong. You should see the

contempt with which they look down on poor me! When they dance I sit

and play the piano very demurely; but the other night, coming in rather

flushed from the dining-room, and seeing me employed in this way, he

swore out loud that I was the best dancer in the room, and took a great

oath that he would have the fiddlers from Mudbury.

"I'll go and play a country-dance," said Mrs. Bute Crawley, very

readily (she is a little, black-faced old woman in a turban, rather

crooked, and with very twinkling eyes); and after the Captain and your

poor little Rebecca had performed a dance together, do you know she

actually did me the honour to compliment me upon my steps! Such a thing

was never heard of before; the proud Mrs. Bute Crawley, first cousin to

the Earl of Tiptoff, who won't condescend to visit Lady Crawley, except

when her sister is in the country. Poor Lady Crawley! during most part

of these gaieties, she is upstairs taking pills.




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