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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Fanny always had low views," continued Becky. "But I always said I would marry a gentleman." "And I dare say," answered Pesach, stung into the retort, "Fanny could marry a gentlemen, too, if she wanted." Becky's idea of a gentleman was a clerk or a school-master, who had no manual labor except scribbling or flogging. In her matrimonial views Becky was typical.
Rebecca had as good taste as any milliner in Europe, and such a clever way of doing things as Lady Jane little understood. The latter quickly spied out the magnificence of the brocade of Becky's train, and the splendour of the lace on her dress. The brocade was an old remnant, Becky said; and as for the lace, it was a great bargain. She had had it these hundred years. "My dear Mrs.
But while thus constrained to decent behavior before Becky's eyes, behind her back they gave way to the resentment that they felt against her for her triumph over them, and let no opportunity slip to say slighting things of her.
Some people said she had gone to Naples in pursuit of Lord Steyne, whilst others averred that his Lordship quitted that city and fled to Palermo on hearing of Becky's arrival; some said she was living in Bierstadt, and had become a dame d'honneur to the Queen of Bulgaria; some that she was at Boulogne; and others, at a boarding-house at Cheltenham.
There were other things that he thought of of Randy, in khaki on the station platform; Randy, lean and tall among the boarders; Randy, left behind with Kemp in the rain; Randy, debonair and insolent, announcing his engagement on the terrace at Hamilton Hill; Randy, a shadow against a silver sky, answering Becky's call; Randy, in the dark by the fountain, with muscles like iron, forcing him inevitably back, lifting him above the basin, letting him drop ; Randy, the Conqueror, marching away with Becky's fan as his trophy !
I can see them over "Manfrone; or the One-handed Monk," the room dark, the street silent, the hour ten, the tall, red, lurid candlewick waggling down, the flame flickering pale upon Miss Caroline's pale face as she read out, and lighting up honest Becky's goggling eyes, who sat silent, her work in her lap; she had not done a stitch of it for an hour.
In fact, Mrs. Firkin had that natural jealousy which is one of the main principles of every honest woman. After rebuffing Sir Huddleston Fuddleston, Miss Crawley ordered that Rawdon Crawley should lead her in to dinner every day, and that Becky should follow with her cushion or else she would have Becky's arm and Rawdon with the pillow. "We must sit together," she said.
The stairway swept down from a sort of upper gallery, and all around the gallery and on the stairs and along the lower hall were the portraits of Becky's dead and gone ancestors.
But poor little Tiza lay with her face buried in the grass and nothing they could say to her seemed to reach her little deaf ears. Meanwhile, Aunt Emma hurried after the others, and presently caught them up at a stream where Mr. Norton had stopped to bathe Becky's head and face.
Oh, dear oh, dear! and she looked this way and that in her distraction. But the squeak subsided, and Flora was not to be seen; and Aunt Becky's presence of mind returned, and she said 'Captain Cluffe, 'tis a great liberty; but you're humane and, besides, I know that you would readily do me a kindness. That emphasis was shot at poor Puddock.
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