"Lord Steyne stepped forward, taking her hand, and greeting her with great courtesy, and presenting her to Lady Steyne, and their ladyships, her daughters. Their ladyships made three stately courtesies, and the elder lady to be sure gave her hand to the newcomer, but it was as cold and lifeless as marble.

"Becky took it, however, with grateful humility; and performing a reverence which would have done credit to the best dancing master, put herself at Lady Steyne's feet, as it were, by saying that his lordship had been her father's earliest friend and patron, and that she, Becky, had learned to honour and respect the Steyne family from the days of her childhood. The fact is, that Lord Steyne had once purchased a couple of pictures of the late Sharp, and the affectionate orphan could never forget her gratitude for that favour.

"The Lady Bareacres then came under Becky's cognizance to whom the colonel's lady made also a most respectful obeisance; it was returned with severe dignity by the exalted person in question.

"I had the pleasure of making your ladyship's acquaintance at Brussels, ten years ago,' Becky said, in her most winning manner. 'I had the good fortune to meet Lady Bareacres at the Duchess of Richmond's ball, the night before the battle of Waterloo. And I recollect your ladyship, and my Lady Blanche, your daughter, sitting in the carriage in the porte-cochere at the Inn, waiting for horses. I hope your ladyship's diamonds are safe.""

"But it was when the ladies were alone that Becky knew the tug of war would come. And then indeed the little

woman found herself in such a situation, as made her acknowledge the correctness of Lord Steyne's caution to her to beware of the society of ladies above her own sphere. As they say the persons who hate Irishmen most are Irishmen: so, assuredly, the greatest tyrants over women are women. When poor little Becky, alone with the ladies, went up to the fireplace whither the great ladies had repaired, the great ladies marched away and took possession of a table of drawings. When Becky followed them to the table of drawings, they dropped off one by one to the fire again. She tried to speak to one of the children (of whom she was commonly fond in public places), but Master George Gaunt was called away by his mamma; and the stranger was treated with such cruelty finally, that even Lady Steyne herself pitied her and went up to speak to the friendless little woman.

"Lord Steyne,' said her ladyship, as her wan cheeks glowed with a blush, 'says you sing and play very beautifully, Mrs. Crawley. I wish you would do me the kindness to sing to me.'

"I will do anything that may give pleasure to my Lord Steyne or to you,' said Rebecca, sincerely grateful, and seating herself at the piano began to sing.

"She sang religious songs of Mozart, which had been early favourites of Lady Steyne, and with such sweetness and tenderness that the lady, lingering round the piano, sat down by its side and listened until the tears rolled down her eyes. It is true that the opposition ladies at the other end of the room kept up a loud and ceaseless buzzing and talking, but the Lady Steyne did not hear those rumours. She was

a child again and had wandered back through a forty years' wilderness to her Convent Garden. The chapel organ had pealed the same tones, the organist, the sister whom she loved best of the community, had taught them to her in those early happy days. She was a girl once more, and the brief period of her happiness bloomed out again for an hour she started when the jarring doors were flung open, and with a loud laugh from Lord Steyne, the men of the party entered full of gaiety.

"He saw at a glance what had happened in his absence, and was grateful to his wife for once. He went and spoke to her and called her by her Christian name, so as again to bring blushes to her pale face. 'My wife says you have been singing like an angel,' he said to Becky. Now there are angels of two kinds, and both sorts, it is said, are charming in their way.

"Whatever the previous portion of the evening had been, the rest of that night was a great triumph for Becky. She sang her very best, and it was so good that every one of the men came and crowded round the piano. The women, her enemies, were left quite alone. And Mr. Paul Jefferson Jones thought he had made a conquest of Lady Gaunt by going up to her ladyship and praising her delightful friend's first-rate singing."

It was at the close of another great rout at Gaunt House - poor Rawdon Crawley having put his little Becky into her carriage that he and Mr. Wenham lighted their cigars from the torch of a link-boy, and strolled off together, followed by two persons.

"When they had walked down Gaunt Square a few score

of paces, one of the men came up, and touching Rawdon on the shoulder, said, 'Beg your pardon, Colonel, I wish to speak to you most particular.' This gentleman's acquaintance gave a loud whistle as the latter spoke, at which signal a cab came clattering up from those stationed at the gate of Gaunt House and the aide-de-camp ran round and placed himself in front of Colonel Crawley.

"That gallant officer at once knew what had befallen him. He was in the hands of the bailiffs.”

We all know the results. How Jane (Lady Crawley) came to Rawdon's rescue in the Sponging House, and how, after Mr. Moss, the bailiff, had been satisfied, Becky's husband, his eyes running over with gratitude, had sought his own home once more.

But let Mr. Thackeray tell it:

"Rawdon left her and walked home rapidly. It was nine o'clock at night. He ran across the streets, and the great squares of Vanity Fair, and at length came up breathless opposite his own house. He started back and fell against the railings, trembling as he looked up. The drawing-room windows were blazing with light. She had said that she was in bed and ill. He stood there for some time, the light from the rooms on his pale face.

"He took out his door-key and let himself into the house. He could hear laughter in the upper rooms. He was in the ball dress in which he had been captured the night before. He went silently up the stairs, leaning against the banisters at the stairhead. Nobody was stirring in the house besides -all the servants had been sent away. Rawdon heard laughter within, laughter and singing. Becky was singing

a snatch of the song of the night before; a hoarse voice shouted 'Bravo! Bravo!' it was Lord Steyne's.

"Rawdon opened the door and went in. A little table with a dinner was laid out and wine and plate. Steyne was hanging over the sofa on which Becky sat. The wretched woman was in brilliant full toilet, her arms and all her fingers sparkling with bracelets and rings, and the brilliants on her breast which Steyne had given her. He had her hand in his, and was bowing over it to kiss it, when Becky started up with a faint scream as she caught sight of Rawdon's white face. At the next instant she tried to smile, a horrid smile, as if to welcome her husband, and Steyne rose up, grinding his teeth, pale, and with fury in his looks

"He, too, attempted a laugh and came forward holding out his hand. 'What, come back! How d'ye do, Crawley?' he said, the nerves of his mouth twitching as he tried to grin at the intruder.

"There was that in Rawdon's face which caused Becky to fling herself before him. 'I am innocent, Rawdon,' she said; 'before God, I am innocent.' She clung hold of his coat, of his hands; her own were all covered with serpents, and rings, and baubles. 'I am innocent. Say I am innocent,' she said to Lord Steyne.

"He thought a trap had been laid for him and was as furious with the wife as with the husband. "You innocent! Damn you,' he screamed out. 'You innocent! Why every trinket you have on your body is paid for by me. I have given you thousands of pounds which this fellow has spent, and for which he has sold you. Innocent, by —! You're as innocent as your mother, the ballet-girl, and your hus