Mr. Osborne was just on the point of knocking down a gentleman in
top-boots, who proposed to take advantage of this invitation, and a
commotion seemed to be inevitable, when by the greatest good luck a
gentleman of the name of Dobbin, who had been walking about the
gardens, stepped up to the box. "Be off, you fools!" said this
gentleman--shouldering off a great number of the crowd, who vanished
presently before his cocked hat and fierce appearance--and he
entered the box in a most agitated state.
"Good Heavens! Dobbin, where have you been?" Osborne said, seizing
the white cashmere shawl from his friend's arm, and huddling up
Amelia in it.--"Make yourself useful, and take charge of Jos here,
whilst I take the ladies to the carriage."
Jos was for rising to interfere--but a single push from Osborne's
finger sent him puffing back into his seat again, and the lieutenant
was enabled to remove the ladies in safety. Jos kissed his hand to
them as they retreated, and hiccupped out "Bless you! Bless you!"
Then, seizing Captain Dobbin's hand, and weeping in the most pitiful
way, he confided to that gentleman the secret of his loves. He
adored that girl who had just gone out; he had broken her heart, he
knew he had, by his conduct; he would marry her next morning at St.
George's, Hanover Square; he'd knock up the Archbishop of Canterbury
at Lambeth: he would, by Jove! and have him in readiness; and,
acting on this hint, Captain Dobbin shrewdly induced him to leave
the gardens and hasten to Lambeth Palace, and, when once out of the
gates, easily conveyed Mr.
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