better answer can there be to Osborne's attacks on you, than that his
son claims to enter your family and marry your daughter?"

George Osborne parted in anger from his father.

"I ain't going to have any of this damn sentimental nonsense here, sir,"
old Osborne cried out at the end of the interview. "There shall be no
beggar-marriages in my family." He pulled frantically at the cord to
summon the butler and, almost black in the face, ordered that
functionary to call a coach for Captain Osborne.

George told Dobbin what had passed between his father and himself.

"I'll marry her to-morrow," he said, with an oath. "I love her more
every day, Dobbin."

So on a gusty, raw day at the aid of April Captain Osborne and Captain
Dobbin drove down to a certain chapel near the Fulham Road.

"Here you are," said Joseph Sedley, coming forward. "What a day, eh?
You're five minutes late, George, my boy. Come along; my mother and Emmy
are in the vestry."

There was nobody in the church besides the officiating persons and a
small marriage party and their attendants. Old Sedley would not be
present. Joseph acted for his father giving away the bride, whilst
Captain Dobbin stepped up as groomsman to his friend George.

"God bless you, old Dobbin," George said, grasping him by the hand, when
they went into the vestry and signed the register. William replied only
by nodding his head; his heart was too full to say much.

Ten days after the above ceremony Dobbin came down to Brighton, where
not only Captain Osborne and Amelia, but also the Rawdon Crawleys were
enjoying themselves, with news. He had seen old Osborne, and tried to
reconcile him to his son's marriage, with the result that he left the
implacable old man in a fit. He had also learnt from his old Colonel
that in a day or two the army would get its marching orders, for
Belgium.

"It's my opinion, George," he said, "that the French Emperor will be
upon us before three weeks are over. But you need not say that to Mrs.
Osborne, you know, and Brussels is full of fine people and ladies of
fashion."

Little Amelia, it must be owned, had rather a mean opinion of her
husband's friend, Captain Dobbin. He was very plain and homely-looking,
and exceedingly awkward and ungainly. Not knowing him intimately as yet,
she made light of honest William; and he knew her opinions of him quite
well, and acquiesced in them very humbly. A time came when she knew him
better, and changed her not