Chapter: In Which Lord Steyne Shows Himself in a Most Amiable Light

When Lord Steyne was benevolently disposed, he did nothing by halves,
and his kindness towards the Crawley family did the greatest honour to
his benevolent discrimination.  His lordship extended his good-will to
little Rawdon:  he pointed out to the boy's parents the necessity of
sending him to a public school, that he was of an age now when
emulation, the first principles of the Latin language, pugilistic
exercises, and the society of his fellow-boys would be of the greatest
benefit to the boy.  His father objected that he was not rich enough to
send the child to a good public school; his mother that Briggs was a
capital mistress for him, and had brought him on (as indeed was the
fact) famously in English, the Latin rudiments, and in general
learning:  but all these objections disappeared before the generous
perseverance of the Marquis of Steyne.  His lordship was one of the
governors of that famous old collegiate institution called the
Whitefriars.  It had been a Cistercian Convent in old days, when the
Smithfield, which is contiguous to it, was a tournament ground.
Obstinate heretics used to be brought thither convenient for burning
hard by.  Henry VIII, the Defender of the Faith, seized upon the
monastery and its possessions and hanged and tortured some of the monks
who could not accommodate themselves to the pace of his reform.
Finally, a great merchant bought the house and land adjoining, in
which, and with the help of other wealthy endowments of land and money,
he established a famous foundation hospital for old men and children.
An extern school grew round the old almost monastic foundation, which
subsists still with its middle-age costume and usages--and all
Cistercians pray that it may long flourish.

Of this famous house, some of the greatest noblemen, prelates, and
dignitaries in England are governors:  and as the boys are very
comfortably lodged, fed, and educated, and subsequently inducted to
good scholarships at the University and livings in the Church, many
little gentlemen are devoted to the ecclesiastical profession from
their tenderest years, and there is considerable emulation to procure
nominations for the foundation.  It was originally intended for the
sons of poor and deserving clerics and laics, but many of the noble
governors of the Institution, with an enlarged and rather capricious
benevolence, selected all sorts of objects for their bounty. To get an
education for nothing, and a future livelihood and profession assured,
was so excellent a scheme that some of the richest people did not
disdain it; and not only great men's relations, but great men
themselves, sent their sons to profit by the chance--Right Rev.
prelates sent their own kinsmen or the sons of their clergy, while, on
the other hand, some great noblemen did not disdain to patronize the
children of their confidential servants--so that a lad entering this
establishment had every variety of youthful society wherewith to mingle.

Rawdon Crawley, though the only book which he studied was the Racing
Calendar, and though his chief recollections of polite learning were
connected with the floggings which he received at Eton in his early
youth, had that decent and honest reverence for classical learning
which all English gentlemen feel, and was glad to think that his son
was to have a provision for life, perhaps, and a certain opportunity of
becoming a scholar.  And although his boy was his chief solace and
companion, and endeared to him by a thousand small ties, about which he
did not care to speak to his wife, who had all along shown the utmost
indifference to their son, yet Rawdon agreed at once to part with him
and to give up his own greatest comfort and benefit for the sake of the
welfare of the little lad.  He did not know how fond he was of the
child until it became necessary to let him go away. When he was gone,
he felt more sad and downcast than he cared to own--far sadder than the
boy himself, who was happy enough to enter a new career and find
companions of his own age.  Becky burst out laughing once or twice when
the Colonel, in his clumsy, incoherent way, tried to express his
sentimental sorrows at the boy's departure.  The poor fellow felt that
his dearest pleasure and closest friend was taken from him.  He looked
often and wistfully at the little vacant bed in his dressing-room,
where the child used to sleep.  He missed him sadly of mornings and
tried in vain to walk in the park without him.  He did not know how
solitary he was until little Rawdon was gone.  He liked the people who
were fond of him, and would go and sit for long hours with his
good-natured sister Lady Jane, and talk to her about the virtues, and
good looks, and hundred good qualities of the child.

Young Rawdon's aunt, we have said, was very fond of him, as was her
little girl, who wept copiously when the time for her cousin's
departure came.  The elder Rawdon was thankful for the fondness of
mother and daughter.  The very best and honestest feelings of the man
came out in these artless outpourings of paternal feeling in which he
indulged in their presence, and encouraged by their sympathy.  He
secured not only Lady Jane's kindness, but her sincere regard, by the
feelings which he manifested, and which he could not show to his own
wife.  The two kinswomen met as seldom as possible. Becky laughed
bitterly at Jane's feelings and softness; the other's kindly and gentle
nature could not but revolt at her sister's callous behaviour.

It estranged Rawdon from his wife more than he knew or acknowledged to
himself.  She did not care for the estrangement.  Indeed, she did not
miss him or anybody. She looked upon him as her errand-man and humble
slave.  He might be ever so depressed or sulky, and she did not mark
his demeanour, or only treated it with a sneer.  She was busy thinking
about her position, or her pleasures, or her advancement in society;
she ought to have held a great place in it, that is certain.

It was honest Briggs who made up the little kit for the boy which he
was to take to school.  Molly, the housemaid, blubbered in the passage
when he went away--Molly kind and faithful in spite of a long arrear of
unpaid wages.  Mrs. Becky could not let her husband have the carriage
to take the boy to school.  Take the horses into the City!--such a
thing was never heard of.  Let a cab be brought. She did not offer to
kiss him when he went, nor did the child propose to embrace her; but
gave a kiss to old Briggs (whom, in general, he was very shy of
caressing), and consoled her by pointing out that he was to come home
on Saturdays, when she would have the benefit of seeing him.  As the
cab rolled towards the City, Becky's carriage rattled off to the park.
She was chattering and laughing with a score of young dandies by the
Serpentine as the father and son entered at the old gates of the
school--where Rawdon left the child and came away with a sadder purer
feeling in his heart than perhaps that poor battered fellow had ever
known since he himself came out of the nursery.

He walked all the way home very dismally, and dined alone with Briggs.
He was very kind to her and grateful for her love and watchfulness over
the boy.  His conscience smote him that he had borrowed Briggs's money
and aided in deceiving her.  They talked about little Rawdon a long
time, for Becky only came home to dress and go out to dinner--and then
he went off uneasily to drink tea with Lady Jane, and tell her of what
had happened, and how little Rawdon went off like a trump, and how he
was to wear a gown and little knee-breeches, and how young Blackball,
Jack Blackball's son, of the old regiment, had taken him in charge and
promised to be kind to him.

In the course of a week, young Blackball had constituted little Rawdon
his fag, shoe-black, and breakfast toaster; initiated him into the
mysteries of the Latin Grammar; and thrashed him three or four times,
but not severely.  The little chap's good-natured honest face won his
way for him.  He only got that degree of beating which was, no doubt,
good for him; and as for blacking shoes, toasting bread, and fagging in
general, were these offices not deemed to be necessary parts of every
young English gentleman's education?

Our business does not lie with the second generation and Master
Rawdon's life at school, otherwise the present tale might be carried to
any indefinite length.  The Colonel went to see his son a short time
afterwards and found the lad sufficiently well and happy, grinning and
laughing in his little black gown and little breeches.

His father sagaciously tipped Blackball, his master, a sovereign, and
secured that young gentleman's good-will towards his fag.  As a protege
of the great Lord Steyne, the nephew of a County member, and son of a
Colonel and C.B., whose name appeared in some of the most fashionable
parties in the Morning Post, perhaps the school authorities were
disposed not to look unkindly on the child.  He had plenty of
pocket-money, which he spent in treating his comrades royally to
raspberry tarts, and he was often allowed to come home on Saturdays to
his father, who always made a jubilee of that day. When free, Rawdon
would take him to the play, or send him thither with the footman; and
on Sundays he went to church with Briggs and Lady Jane and his cousins.
Rawdon marvelled over his stories about school, and fights, and
fagging.  Before long, he knew the names of all the masters and the
principal boys as well as little Rawdon himself.  He invited little
Rawdon's crony from school, and made both the children sick with
pastry, and oysters, and porter after the play.  He tried to look
knowing over the Latin grammar when little Rawdon showed him what part
of that work he was "in." "Stick to it, my boy," he said to him with
much gravity, "there's nothing like a good classical education!
Nothing!"

Becky's contempt for her husband grew greater every day.  "Do what you
like--dine where you please--go and have ginger-beer and sawdust at
Astley's, or psalm-singing with Lady Jane--only don't expect me to busy
myself with the boy.  I have your interests to attend to, as you can't
attend to them yourself.  I should like to know where you would have
been now, and in what sort of a position in society, if I had not
looked after you." Indeed, nobody wanted poor old Rawdon at the parties
whither Becky used to go.  She was often asked without him now.  She
talked about great people as if she had the fee-simple of May Fair, and
when the Court went into mourning, she always wore black.

Little Rawdon being disposed of, Lord Steyne, who took such a parental
interest in the affairs of this amiable poor family, thought that their
expenses might be very advantageously curtailed by the departure of
Miss Briggs, and that Becky was quite clever enough to take the
management of her own house.  It has been narrated in a former chapter
how the benevolent nobleman had given his protegee money to pay off her
little debt to Miss Briggs, who however still remained behind with her
friends; whence my lord came to the painful conclusion that Mrs.
Crawley had made some other use of the money confided to her than that
for which her generous patron had given the loan.  However, Lord Steyne
was not so rude as to impart his suspicions upon this head to Mrs.
Becky, whose feelings might be hurt by any controversy on the
money-question, and who might have a thousand painful reasons for
disposing otherwise of his lordship's generous loan.  But he determined
to satisfy himself of the real state of the case, and instituted the
necessary inquiries in a most cautious and delicate manner.

In the first place he took an early opportunity of pumping Miss Briggs.
That was not a difficult operation. A very little encouragement would
set that worthy woman to talk volubly and pour out all within her.  And
one day when Mrs. Rawdon had gone out to drive (as Mr. Fiche, his
lordship's confidential servant, easily learned at the livery stables
where the Crawleys kept their carriage and horses, or rather, where the
livery-man kept a carriage and horses for Mr. and Mrs. Crawley)--my
lord dropped in upon the Curzon Street house--asked Briggs for a cup of
coffee--told her that he had good accounts of the little boy at
school--and in five minutes found out from her that Mrs. Rawdon had
given her nothing except a black silk gown, for which Miss Briggs was
immensely grateful.

He laughed within himself at this artless story.  For the truth is, our
dear friend Rebecca had given him a most circumstantial narration of
Briggs's delight at receiving her money--eleven hundred and twenty-five
pounds--and in what securities she had invested it; and what a pang
Becky herself felt in being obliged to pay away such a delightful sum
of money.  "Who knows," the dear woman may have thought within herself,
"perhaps he may give me a little more?" My lord, however, made no such
proposal to the little schemer--very likely thinking that he had been
sufficiently generous already.

He had the curiosity, then, to ask Miss Briggs about the state of her
private affairs--and she told his lordship candidly what her position
was--how Miss Crawley had left her a legacy--how her relatives had had
part of it--how Colonel Crawley had put out another portion, for which
she had the best security and interest--and how Mr. and Mrs. Rawdon
had kindly busied themselves with Sir Pitt, who was to dispose of the
remainder most advantageously for her, when he had time.  My lord asked
how much the Colonel had already invested for her, and Miss Briggs at
once and truly told him that the sum was six hundred and odd pounds.

But as soon as she had told her story, the voluble Briggs repented of
her frankness and besought my lord not to tell Mr. Crawley of the
confessions which she had made.  "The Colonel was so kind--Mr. Crawley
might be offended and pay back the money, for which she could get no
such good interest anywhere else." Lord Steyne, laughing, promised he
never would divulge their conversation, and when he and Miss Briggs
parted he laughed still more.

"What an accomplished little devil it is!" thought he. "What a splendid
actress and manager!  She had almost got a second supply out of me the
other day; with her coaxing ways.  She beats all the women I have ever
seen in the course of all my well-spent life. They are babies compared
to her.  I am a greenhorn myself, and a fool in her hands--an old fool.
She is unsurpassable in lies." His lordship's admiration for Becky rose
immeasurably at this proof of her cleverness.  Getting the money was
nothing--but getting double the sum she wanted, and paying nobody--it
was a magnificent stroke. And Crawley, my lord thought--Crawley is not
such a fool as he looks and seems.  He has managed the matter cleverly
enough on his side. Nobody would ever have supposed from his face and
demeanour that he knew anything about this money business; and yet he
put her up to it, and has spent the money, no doubt.  In this opinion
my lord, we know, was mistaken, but it influenced a good deal his
behaviour towards Colonel Crawley, whom he began to treat with even
less than that semblance of respect which he had formerly shown towards
that gentleman.  It never entered into the head of Mrs. Crawley's
patron that the little lady might be making a purse for herself; and,
perhaps, if the truth must be told, he judged of Colonel Crawley by his
experience of other husbands, whom he had known in the course of the
long and well-spent life which had made him acquainted with a great
deal of the weakness of mankind.  My lord had bought so many men during
his life that he was surely to be pardoned for supposing that he had
found the price of this one.

He taxed Becky upon the point on the very first occasion when he met
her alone, and he complimented her, good-humouredly, on her cleverness
in getting more than the money which she required.  Becky was only a
little taken aback.  It was not the habit of this dear creature to tell
falsehoods, except when necessity compelled, but in these great
emergencies it was her practice to lie very freely; and in an instant
she was ready with another neat plausible circumstantial story which
she administered to her patron.  The previous statement which she had
made to him was a falsehood--a wicked falsehood--she owned it.  But who
had made her tell it? "Ah, my Lord," she said, "you don't know all I
have to suffer and bear in silence; you see me gay and happy before
you--you little know what I have to endure when there is no protector
near me.  It was my husband, by threats and the most savage treatment,
forced me to ask for that sum about which I deceived you.  It was he
who, foreseeing that questions might be asked regarding the disposal of
the money, forced me to account for it as I did.  He took the money.
He told me he had paid Miss Briggs; I did not want, I did not dare to
doubt him. Pardon the wrong which a desperate man is forced to commit,
and pity a miserable, miserable woman." She burst into tears as she
spoke.  Persecuted virtue never looked more bewitchingly wretched.

They had a long conversation, driving round and round the Regent's Park
in Mrs. Crawley's carriage together, a conversation of which it is not
necessary to repeat the details, but the upshot of it was that, when
Becky came home, she flew to her dear Briggs with a smiling face and
announced that she had some very good news for her. Lord Steyne had
acted in the noblest and most generous manner.  He was always thinking
how and when he could do good.  Now that little Rawdon was gone to
school, a dear companion and friend was no longer necessary to her.
She was grieved beyond measure to part with Briggs, but her means
required that she should practise every retrenchment, and her sorrow
was mitigated by the idea that her dear Briggs would be far better
provided for by her generous patron than in her humble home.  Mrs.
Pilkington, the housekeeper at Gauntly Hall, was growing exceedingly
old, feeble, and rheumatic: she was not equal to the work of
superintending that vast mansion, and must be on the look out for a
successor.  It was a splendid position. The family did not go to
Gauntly once in two years.  At other times the housekeeper was the
mistress of the magnificent mansion--had four covers daily for her
table; was visited by the clergy and the most respectable people of the
county--was the lady of Gauntly, in fact; and the two last housekeepers
before Mrs. Pilkington had married rectors of Gauntly--but Mrs. P.
could not, being the aunt of the present Rector.  The place was not to
be hers yet, but she might go down on a visit to Mrs. Pilkington and
see whether she would like to succeed her.

What words can paint the ecstatic gratitude of Briggs! All she
stipulated for was that little Rawdon should be allowed to come down
and see her at the Hall.  Becky promised this--anything.  She ran up to
her husband when he came home and told him the joyful news. Rawdon was
glad, deuced glad; the weight was off his conscience about poor
Briggs's money.  She was provided for, at any rate, but--but his mind
was disquiet.  He did not seem to be all right, somehow.  He told
little Southdown what Lord Steyne had done, and the young man eyed
Crawley with an air which surprised the latter.

He told Lady Jane of this second proof of Steyne's bounty, and she,
too, looked odd and alarmed; so did Sir Pitt.  "She is too clever
and--and gay to be allowed to go from party to party without a
companion," both said.  "You must go with her, Rawdon, wherever she
goes, and you must have somebody with her--one of the girls from
Queen's Crawley, perhaps, though they were rather giddy guardians for
her."

Somebody Becky should have.  But in the meantime it was clear that
honest Briggs must not lose her chance of settlement for life, and so
she and her bags were packed, and she set off on her journey. And so
two of Rawdon's out-sentinels were in the hands of the enemy.

Sir Pitt went and expostulated with his sister-in-law upon the subject
of the dismissal of Briggs and other matters of delicate family
interest.  In vain she pointed out to him how necessary was the
protection of Lord Steyne for her poor husband; how cruel it would be
on their part to deprive Briggs of the position offered to her.
Cajolements, coaxings, smiles, tears could not satisfy Sir Pitt, and he
had something very like a quarrel with his once admired Becky.  He
spoke of the honour of the family, the unsullied reputation of the
Crawleys; expressed himself in indignant tones about her receiving
those young Frenchmen--those wild young men of fashion, my Lord Steyne
himself, whose carriage was always at her door, who passed hours daily
in her company, and whose constant presence made the world talk about
her.  As the head of the house he implored her to be more prudent.
Society was already speaking lightly of her.  Lord Steyne, though a
nobleman of the greatest station and talents, was a man whose
attentions would compromise any woman; he besought, he implored, he
commanded his sister-in-law to be watchful in her intercourse with that
nobleman.

Becky promised anything and everything Pitt wanted; but Lord Steyne
came to her house as often as ever, and Sir Pitt's anger increased. I
wonder was Lady Jane angry or pleased that her husband at last found
fault with his favourite Rebecca? Lord Steyne's visits continuing, his
own ceased, and his wife was for refusing all further intercourse with
that nobleman and declining the invitation to the charade-night which
the marchioness sent to her; but Sir Pitt thought it was necessary to
accept it, as his Royal Highness would be there.

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.

 Let's take a few steps back in time again. It seems that Lord Steyne has really been on a mission to clear everyone out of Becky's house. What could he possibly be up to? The first thing he does is use his political clout to get Rawdon Jr. a spot at prestigious boarding school. Rawdon is upset at the idea of his son going away. He can't deny that education is important, but Rawdon Jr. is really his only friend and companion in life. When Rawdon tries to tell Becky about his feelings, she just mocks him. So Rawdon talks about his son with Lady Jane instead. Not surprisingly, Becky isn't that sad to see Rawdon Jr. go. Briggs is the one who packs up his things, and Briggs and Rawdon hang out together afterwards crying and talking about the boy. Rawdon Jr. does very well in school. It helps that he is clearly highly connected and that he is a good-looking, happy kid. He tells his father all about his classmates, and Rawdon brags about his son's achievements to his friends. Becky finds all of this ridiculous and starts to find Rawdon contemptible. OK, so that's person one out of the house. Person two is Briggs. Lord Steyne realizes that Becky must not have paid Briggs back with the money he gave her. He talks to Briggs and she tells him the real amount Becky owes her . Steyne decides Rawdon must be behind the lie. When he confronts Becky about it, she also tells him she was just following her horrible husband's orders. What Steyne doesn't suspect is that Rawdon knows nothing about anything, and that Becky is keeping the money in a secret place for herself. Finally, Steyne has a better idea. The Steynes of course have an estate in the country. They don't go there often - once every two years or so - and the housekeeper there is getting very old. He offers Briggs the chance to replace her. This is an amazing offer, since it would basically take care of all of Brigg's needs for the rest of her life. Briggs is thrilled and asks only that Rawdon Jr. be allowed to visit her. When Rawdon tells Lady Jane and Pitt about this offer, they are surprised, suspicious, and worried. Becky's moment is the sun is already starting to cloud over. All her flirting is starting to be noticed and more and more rumors are swirling around her, damaging her reputation. Jane thinks a woman as full of life as Becky cannot go to parties alone, and so if Briggs isn't with her any more, then Rawdon needs to step up and be with her all the time. Rawdon does just that. He stops going to his club, stops going to see his friends, and instead starts going everywhere with Becky. If she is invited out by herself, he makes her decline the invitation. Becky actually seems surprisingly happy about Rawdon's sudden concern for her. She smiles at him, is nice to him, kisses him and generally acts very loving towards him. Rawdon decides he was suspicious about nothing, since she clearly loves him and just needs to be with people out in society, which isn't such a crime. The only problem, Rawdon decides, is to figure out how to make her like Rawdon Jr. a little bit more. It's in this state of mind that he is arrested for debts.

