 after slowly smacking
his first bumper - »what I want to know is, how you and - ah - that little thing
upstairs, are carrying on?«
    »I think, sir, it's not hard to see,« George said, with a self-satisfied
grin. »Pretty clear, sir. - What capital wine! «
    »What d'you mean - pretty clear, sir?«
    »Why, hang it, sir, don't push me too hard. I'm a modest man. I - ah - I
don't set up to be a lady-killer, but I do own that she's as devilish fond of me
as she can be. Anybody can see that with half an eye.«
    »And you yourself?«
    »Why, sir, didn't you order me to marry her, and ain't I a good boy? Haven't
our Papas settled it ever so long?«
    »A pretty boy, indeed. Haven't I heard of your doings, sir, with Lord
Tarquin, Captain Crawley of the Guards, the Honourable Mr. Deuceace, and that
set. Have a care, sir, have a care.«
    The old gentleman pronounced these aristocratic names with the greatest
gusto. Whenever he met a great man he grovelled before him, and my-lorded him as
only a free-born Briton can do. He came home and looked out his history in the
Peerage; he introduced his name into his daily conversation; he bragged about
his Lordship to his daughters. He fell down prostrate and basked in him as a
Neapolitan beggar does in the sun. George was alarmed when he heard the names.
He heard his fathers might have been informed of certain transaction at play.
But the old moralist eased him by saying serenely, -
    »Well, well, young men will be young men. And the comfort to me is, George,
that living in the best society in England, as I hope you do; as I think you do;
as my means will allow you to do -«
    »Thank you, sir,« says George, making his point at once. »One can't live
with these great folks for nothing; and my purse, sir - look at it;« and he held
up a little token which had been netted by Amelia, and contained the very last
of Dobbin's pound notes.
    »You shan't want, sir - the British merchant's son shan't want, sir. My
