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George Osborne–Rawdon Crawley
by
When the nature of Mr. Osborne’s will became known to the world, once more Mrs. George Osborne rose in the estimation of the people forming her circle of acquaintance; even Jos himself paid her and her rich little boy, his nephew, the greatest respect, and began to show her much more attention than formerly.
As George’s guardian, Amelia begged Miss Osborne to live in the Russell Square house, but Miss Osborne did not choose to do so. And Amelia also declined to occupy the gloomy old mansion. But one day, clad in deep sables, she went with George to visit the deserted house which she had not entered since she was a girl. They went into the great blank rooms, the walls of which bore the marks where pictures and mirrors had hung. Then they went up the great stone staircase into the upper rooms, into that where grandpapa died, as Georgie said in a whisper, and then higher still into George’s own room. The boy was still clinging by her side, but she thought of another besides him. She knew that it had been his father’s room before it was his.
“Look here, mother,” said George, standing by the window, “here’s G.O. scratched on the glass with a diamond; I never saw it before. I never did it.”
“It was your father’s room long before you were born, George,” she said, and she blushed as she kissed the boy.
She was very silent as they drove back to Richmond, where they had taken a temporary house, but after that time practical matters occupied her mind. There were many directions to be given and much business to transact, and Amelia immediately found herself in the whirl of quite a new life, and experienced the extreme joy of having George continually with her, as he was at that time removed from Mr. Veal’s on an unlimited holiday.
George’s aunt, Mrs. Bullock, who had before her marriage been Miss Osborne, thought it wise now to become reconciled with Amelia and her boy. Consequently one day her chariot drove up to Amelia’s house, and the Bullock family made an irruption into the garden, where Amelia was reading.
Jos was in an arbour, placidly dipping strawberries into wine, and the Major was giving a back to George, who chose to jump over him. He went over his head, and bounded into the little group of Bullocks, with immense black bows on their hats, and huge black sashes, accompanying their mourning mamma.
“He is just the age for Rosa,” the fond parent thought, and glanced towards that dear child, a little miss of seven years. “Rosa, go and kiss your dear cousin,” added Mrs. Bullock. “Don’t you know me, George? I am your aunt.”
“I know you well enough,” George said; “but I don’t like kissing, please,” and he retreated from the obedient caresses of his cousin.
“Take me to your dear mamma, you droll child,” Mrs. Bullock said; and those ladies met, after an absence of more than fifteen years. During Emmy’s poverty Mrs. Bullock had never thought about coming to see her; but now that she was decently prosperous in the world, her sister-in-law came to her as a matter of course.
So did many others. In fact, before the period of grief for Mr. Osborne’s death had subsided, Emmy, had she wished, could have become a leader in fashionable society. But that was not her desire: worn out with the long period of poverty, care, and separation from George, her one wish was a change of scene and thought.
Because of this wish, some time later, on a fine morning, when the Batavier steamboat was about to leave its dock, we see among the carriages being taken on, a very neat, handsome travelling carriage, from which a courier, Kirsch by name, got out and informed inquirers that the carriage belonged to an enormously rich Nabob from Calcutta and Jamaica, with whom he was engaged to travel. At this moment a young gentleman who had been warned off the bridge between the paddle-boxes, and who had dropped thence onto the roof of Lord Methusala’s carriage, from which he made his way over other carriages until he had clambered onto his own, descended thence and through the window into the body of the carriage to the applause of the couriers looking on.