indeed I can," cried out William's weak brother-in-law.

The Colonel besought Jos to fly at once--to go back to India, whither
Mrs. Crawley could not follow him; to do anything to break off a
connection which might have the most fatal consequences to him.

Jos clasped his hands and cried, "He would go back to India. He would
do anything, only he must have time: they mustn't say anything to Mrs.
Crawley--she'd--she'd kill me if she knew it. You don't know what a
terrible woman she is," the poor wretch said.

"Then, why not come away with me?" said Dobbin in reply; but Jos had
not the courage. "He would see Dobbin again in the morning; he must on
no account say that he had been there. He must go now. Becky might
come in." And Dobbin quitted him, full of forebodings.

He never saw Jos more. Three months afterwards Joseph Sedley died at
Aix-la-Chapelle. It was found that all his property had been muddled
away in speculations, and was represented by valueless shares in
different bubble companies. All his available assets were the two
thousand pounds for which his life was insured, and which were left
equally between his beloved "sister Amelia, wife of, &c., and his
friend and invaluable attendant during sickness, Rebecca, wife of
Lieutenant-Colonel Rawdon Crawley, C.B.," who was appointed
administratrix.

The solicitor of the insurance company swore it was the blackest case
that ever had come before him, talked of sending a commission to Aix to
examine into the death, and the Company refused payment of the policy.
But Mrs., or Lady Crawley, as she styled herself, came to town at once
(attended with her solicitors, Messrs. Burke, Thurtell, and Hayes, of
Thavies Inn) and dared the Company to refuse the payment. They invited
examination, they declared that she was the object of an infamous
conspiracy, which had been pursuing her all through life, and triumphed
finally. The money was paid, and her character established, but
Colonel Dobbin sent back his share of the legacy to the insurance
office and rigidly declined to hold any communication with Rebecca.

She never was Lady Crawley, though she continued so to call herself.
His Excellency Colonel Rawdon Crawley died of yellow fever at Coventry
Island, most deeply beloved and deplored, and six weeks before the
demise of his brother, Sir Pitt. The estate consequently devolved upon
the present Sir Rawdon Crawley, Bart.

He, too, has declined to see his mother, to