ugh
to drive out, Becky accompanied her. And amongst the drives which they
took, whither, of all places in the world, did Miss Crawley's admirable
good-nature and friendship actually induce her to penetrate, but to
Russell Square, Bloomsbury, and the house of John Sedley, Esquire.

Ere that event, many notes had passed, as may be imagined, between the
two dear friends. During the months of Rebecca's stay in Hampshire,
the eternal friendship had (must it be owned?) suffered considerable
diminution, and grown so decrepit and feeble with old age as to
threaten demise altogether. The fact is, both girls had their own real
affairs to think of: Rebecca her advance with her employers--Amelia her
own absorbing topic. When the two girls met, and flew into each
other's arms with that impetuosity which distinguishes the behaviour of
young ladies towards each other, Rebecca performed her part of the
embrace with the most perfect briskness and energy. Poor little Amelia
blushed as she kissed her friend, and thought she had been guilty of
something very like coldness towards her.

Their first interview was but a very short one. Amelia was just ready
to go out for a walk. Miss Crawley was waiting in her carriage below,
her people wondering at the locality in which they found themselves,
and gazing upon honest Sambo, the black footman of Bloomsbury, as one
of the queer natives of the place. But when Amelia came down with her
kind smiling looks (Rebecca must introduce her to her friend, Miss
Crawley was longing to see her, and was too ill to leave her
carriage)--when, I say, Amelia came down, the Park Lane shoulder-knot
aristocracy wondered more and more that such a thing could come out of
Bloomsbury; and Miss Crawley was fairly captivated by the sweet
blushing face of the young lady who came forward so timidly and so
gracefully to pay her respects to the protector of her friend.

"What a complexion, my dear! What a sweet voice!" Miss Crawley said, as
they drove away westward after the little interview. "My dear Sharp,
your young friend is charming. Send for her to Park Lane, do you
hear?" Miss Crawley had a good taste. She liked natural manners--a
little timidity only set them off. She liked pretty faces near her; as
she liked pretty pictures and nice china. She talked of Amelia with
rapture half a dozen times that day. She mentioned her to Rawdon
Crawley, who came dutifully to partake of his aunt's chicken.

Of cours