vy, only she was so good and gentle, that it's a wonder
anybody dared to hate her. If I desert her, sir, do you suppose she
forgets me?"

"I ain't going to have any of this dam sentimental nonsense and humbug
here, sir," the father cried out. "There shall be no beggar-marriages
in my family. If you choose to fling away eight thousand a year, which
you may have for the asking, you may do it: but by Jove you take your
pack and walk out of this house, sir. Will you do as I tell you, once
for all, sir, or will you not?"

"Marry that mulatto woman?" George said, pulling up his shirt-collars.
"I don't like the colour, sir. Ask the black that sweeps opposite
Fleet Market, sir. I'm not going to marry a Hottentot Venus."

Mr. Osborne pulled frantically at the cord by which he was accustomed
to summon the butler when he wanted wine--and almost black in the face,
ordered that functionary to call a coach for Captain Osborne.

"I've done it," said George, coming into the Slaughters' an hour
afterwards, looking very pale.

"What, my boy?" says Dobbin.

George told 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."

CHAPTER XXII

A Marriage and Part of a Honeymoon

Enemies the most obstinate and courageous can't hold out against
starvation; so the elder Osborne felt himself pretty easy about his
adversary in the encounter we have just described; and as soon as
George's supplies fell short, confidently expected his unconditional
submission. It was unlucky, to be sure, that the lad should have
secured a stock of provisions on the very day when the first encounter
took place; but this relief was only temporary, old Osborne thought,
and would but delay George's surrender. No communication passed
between father and son for some days. The former was sulky at this
silence, but not disquieted; for, as he said, he knew where he could
put the screw upon George, and only waited the result of that
operation. He told the sisters the upshot of the dispute between them,
but ordered them to take no notice of the matter, and welcome George on
his return as if nothing had happened. His cover was laid as usual
every day, and perhaps the old gentleman rather anxiously expected him;
but he never came. Some one inquired at the Slaughters' regarding him,
where it was said that he and his friend Captain Dobbin had left town.

One gusty, raw day at