Well, although Lady O'Dowd and Glorvina quarrelled a great number of

times every day, and upon almost every conceivable subject--indeed, if

Mick O'Dowd had not possessed the temper of an angel two such women

constantly about his ears would have driven him out of his senses--yet

they agreed between themselves on this point, that Glorvina should

marry Major Dobbin, and were determined that the Major should have no

rest until the arrangement was brought about. Undismayed by forty or

fifty previous defeats, Glorvina laid siege to him. She sang Irish

melodies at him unceasingly. She asked him so frequently and

pathetically, Will ye come to the bower? that it is a wonder how any

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man of feeling could have resisted the invitation. She was never tired

of inquiring, if Sorrow had his young days faded, and was ready to

listen and weep like Desdemona at the stories of his dangers and his

campaigns. It has been said that our honest and dear old friend used

to perform on the flute in private; Glorvina insisted upon having duets

with him, and Lady O'Dowd would rise and artlessly quit the room when

the young couple were so engaged. Glorvina forced the Major to ride

with her of mornings. The whole cantonment saw them set out and

return. She was constantly writing notes over to him at his house,

borrowing his books, and scoring with her great pencil-marks such

passages of sentiment or humour as awakened her sympathy. She borrowed

his horses, his servants, his spoons, and palanquin--no wonder that

public rumour assigned her to him, and that the Major's sisters in

England should fancy they were about to have a sister-in-law.

Dobbin, who was thus vigorously besieged, was in the meanwhile in a

state of the most odious tranquillity. He used to laugh when the young

fellows of the regiment joked him about Glorvina's manifest attentions

to him. "Bah!" said he, "she is only keeping her hand in--she

practises upon me as she does upon Mrs. Tozer's piano, because it's the

most handy instrument in the station. I am much too battered and old

for such a fine young lady as Glorvina." And so he went on riding with

her, and copying music and verses into her albums, and playing at chess

with her very submissively; for it is with these simple amusements that

some officers in India are accustomed to while away their leisure

moments, while others of a less domestic turn hunt hogs, and shoot

snipes, or gamble and smoke cheroots, and betake themselves to

brandy-and-water. As for Sir Michael O'Dowd, though his lady and her

sister both urged him to call upon the Major to explain himself and not

keep on torturing a poor innocent girl in that shameful way, the old

soldier refused point-blank to have anything to do with the conspiracy.

"Faith, the Major's big enough to choose for himself," Sir Michael

said; "he'll ask ye when he wants ye"; or else he would turn the matter

off jocularly, declaring that "Dobbin was too young to keep house, and

had written home to ask lave of his mamma." Nay, he went farther, and

in private communications with his Major would caution and rally him,

crying, "Mind your oi, Dob, my boy, them girls is bent on mischief--me

Lady has just got a box of gowns from Europe, and there's a pink satin

for Glorvina, which will finish ye, Dob, if it's in the power of woman

or satin to move ye."




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