And now it became naturally Rebecca’s duty to make herself agreeable to her new family of Crawleys.

“I am alone in the world,” said the friendless girl. “I have nothing to look for but what my own labour can bring me; and while that little pink-faced chit Amelia has ten thousand pounds and an establishment secure, poor Rebecca (and my figure is far better than hers) has only herself and her own wits to trust to. Well, let us see if some day or the other I cannot show Miss Amelia my real superiority over her. Not that I dislike poor Amelia: who can dislike such a harmless, good-natured creature? – only it will be a fine day when I can take my place above her in the world, as why, indeed, should I not?”

With the young people her method was pretty simple. She did not pester their young brains with too much learning, but, on the contrary, let them have their own way in regard to educating themselves.

With Mr. Crawley Miss Sharp was respectful and obedient. She used to consult him on passages of French which she could not understand, though her mother was a Frenchwoman, he was kind enough to select for her books of a more serious tendency, and address to her much of his conversation.

He took Rebecca to task once or twice about the propriety of playing at backgammon with Sir Pitt.[12] But it was not only by playing at backgammon with the Baronet, that the little governess rendered herself agreeable to her employer. She found many different ways of being useful to him. She volunteered to copy many of his letters, and altered the spelling of them so as to suit the usages of the present day. She became interested in everything about the estate, to the farm, the park, the garden, and the stables; and so delightful a companion was she, that the Baronet would seldom take his after-breakfast walk without her (and the children of course). She was almost mistress of the house when Mr. Crawley was absent, but her behaviour was always exceedingly modest and affable. She was quite a different person from the haughty, shy, dissatisfied little girl whom we have known previously.

Old Miss Crawley had a snug little house in Park Lane, and, as she ate and drank a great deal too much during the season in London, she went to Harrowgate or Cheltenham for the summer. Silly, romantic Miss Crawley, always used to pay Rawdon Crawley’s, her favourite nephew, debts after his duels; and would not listen to a word that was whispered against his morality.

Now let us turn our sight to Amelia. There was scarcely any point upon which the Misses Osborne, George’s sisters, and the Mesdemoiselles Dobbin agreed so well as in their estimate of her very trifling merits: and their wonder that their brothers could find any charms in her. And they treated her with such extreme kindness and patronised her, that the poor little thing was in fact perfectly dumb in their presence and as stupid as they thought her. She made efforts to like them, as in duty bound, and as sisters of her future husband.

Amelia was asking Captain Dobbin about Osborne all the time. He never hurried to visit her preferring to spend some time on games and drinking. Once, after three days of absence, Miss Amelia put on her bonnet, and actually invaded the Osborne house. “What! leave our brother to come to us?” said the young ladies. “Have you had a quarrel, Amelia? Do tell us!” No, indeed, there had been no quarrel. “Who could quarrel with him?” says she, with her eyes filled with tears. She only came over to – to see her dear friends; they had not met for so long. And this day she was so perfectly stupid and awkward, that the Misses Osborne and their governess, who stared after her as she went sadly away, wondered more than ever what George could see in poor little Amelia.