Identifier: vanityfair01thac (find matches)
Title: Vanity fair
Year: 1900 (1900s)
Authors: Thackeray, William Makepeace, 1811-1863 Fiske, Minnie Maddern, Mrs., 1865- (from old catalog)
Subjects: Waterloo, Battle of, Waterloo, Belgium, 1815 British Female friendship Social classes Married women
Publisher: New York and Boston, H. M. Caldwell company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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the apothecary arrived. Mrs. Butetook up the post of nurse by her bedside. ** Her rela-tions ought to be round about her, that amiable womansaid. She had scarcely been carried up to her room when a newperson arrived to whom it was also necessary to break thenews. This was Sir Pitt. Wheres Becky? he said, com-ing in. Wheres her traps? Shes coming with me toQueens Crawley. Have you not heard the astonishing intelligence re-garding her surreptitious union ? Briggs asked. Whats that to me? Sir Pitt asked: I know shesmarried. That makes no odds. Tell her to come down atonce, and not keep me. Are you not aware, sir, Miss Briggs asked, that shehas left our roof, to the dismay of Miss Crawley, who isnearly killed by the intelligence of Captain Rawdons unionwith her ? When Sir Pitt Crawley heard that Rebecca was married tohis son, he broke out into a fury of language which it woulddo no good to repeat in this place, as indeed it sent poorBriggs shuddering out of the ^o^m : and with her we will
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i: THE LETTER ON THE PINCUSHION: i 7i shut the door upon the figure of the frenzied old man, wildwith hatred and insane with baffled desire. One day after he went to Queens Crawley, he burst like amadman into the room she had used when there—dashed openher boxes with his foot, and flung about her papers, clothes,and other relics. Miss Horrocks, the butlers daughter, tooksome of them. The children dressed themselves and actedplays in the others. It was but a few days after the poormother had gone to her lonely burying-place, and was laid,unwept and disregarded, in a vault full of strangers. Suppose the old lady doesnt come to, Rawdon said tohis little wife, as they sat together in the snug little Bromp-ton lodgings. She had been trying the new piano all themorning. The new gloves fitted her to a nicety ; the newshawls became her wonderfully ; the new rings glittered onher little hands, and the new watch ticked at her waist. Suppose she dont come round, eh, Becky ? */// make your fort

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