ached to Amelia for years,
also remained firm, and insisted not only that Amelia have no more to do
with Mrs. Crawley, but that if she did, he would leave the party. Amelia
was firm and loyal, and honest Dobbin made preparations for his
departure.

When the coach that was to carry old Dob away drew up before the door,
Georgie gave an exclamation of surprise.

"Hello!" said he, "there's Dob's trap! There's Francis coming out with
the portmanteau, and the postilion. Look at his boots and yellow
jacket--why--they are putting the horses to Dob's carriage. Is he going
anywhere?"

"Yes," said Amelia, "he is going on a journey."

"Going on a journey! And when is he coming back?"

"He is--not coming back," answered Amelia.

"Not coming back!" cried out Georgie, jumping up.

"Stay here," roared out Jos.

"Stay, Georgie," said his mother, with a very sad face.

The boy stopped, kicked about the room, jumped up and down from the
window seat, and finally, when the Major's luggage had been carried out,
gave way to his feelings again. "By Jove, I _will_ go!" screamed out
George, and rushed downstairs and flung across the street in a minute.

The yellow postilion was cracking his whip gently. William had got into
the carriage, George bounded in after him, and flung his arms around the
Major's neck, asking him multiplied questions. William kissed Georgie,
spoke gently and sadly to him, and the boy got out, doubling his fists
into his eyes. The yellow postilion cracked his whip again, up sprang
Francis to the box, and away Dobbin was carried, never looking up as he
passed under Amelia's window; and Georgie, left alone in the street,
burst out crying in the face of all the crowd and continued his
lamentations far into the night, when Amelia's maid, who heard him
howling, brought him some preserved apricots to console him.

Thus honest Dobbin passed out of the life of Amelia and her boy, but
not forever. Gentle Amelia was soon disillusioned in regard to the old
schoolmate whom she had taken under her care, and found that in all the
world there was no one who meant so much to her as faithful Dobbin. One
morning she wrote and despatched a note, the inscription of which no
one saw; but on account of which she looked very much flushed and
agitated when Georgie met her coming from the Post; and she kissed him
and hung over him a great deal that night. Two mornings later George,
walking on the dyke with his mother, saw by the aid o