Although he went to the party in question, Sir Pitt quitted it very
early, and his wife, too, was very glad to come away. Becky hardly so
much as spoke to him or noticed her sister-in-law. Pitt Crawley
declared her behaviour was monstrously indecorous, reprobated in strong
terms the habit of play-acting and fancy dressing as highly unbecoming
a British female, and after the charades were over, took his brother
Rawdon severely to task for appearing himself and allowing his wife to
join in such improper exhibitions.
Rawdon said she should not join in any more such amusements--but
indeed, and perhaps from hints from his elder brother and sister, he
had already become a very watchful and exemplary domestic character. He
left off his clubs and billiards. He never left home. He took Becky
out to drive; he went laboriously with her to all her parties. Whenever
my Lord Steyne called, he was sure to find the Colonel. And when Becky
proposed to go out without her husband, or received invitations for
herself, he peremptorily ordered her to refuse them: and there was that
in the gentleman's manner which enforced obedience. Little Becky, to
do her justice, was charmed with Rawdon's gallantry. If he was surly,
she never was. Whether friends were present or absent, she had always a
kind smile for him and was attentive to his pleasure and comfort. It
was the early days of their marriage over again: the same good humour,
prevenances, merriment, and artless confidence and regard. "How much
pleasanter it is," she would say, "to have you by my side in the
carriage than that foolish old Briggs! Let us always go on so, dear
Rawdon. How nice it would be, and how happy we should always be, if we
had but the money!" He fell asleep after dinner in his chair; he did
not see the face opposite to him, haggard, weary, and terrible; it
lighted up with fresh candid smiles when he woke. It kissed him gaily.
He wondered that he had ever had suspicions. No, he never had
suspicions; all those dumb doubts and surly misgivings which had been
gathering on his mind were mere idle jealousies. She was fond of him;
she always had been. As for her shining in society, it was no fault of
hers; she was formed to shine there. Was there any woman who could
talk, or sing, or do anything like her? If she would but like the boy!
Rawdon thought. But the mother and son never could be brought together.
And it was while Rawdon's mind was agitated with these doubts and
perplexities that the incident occurred which was mentioned in the last
chapter, and the unfortunate Colonel found himself a prisoner away from
home.