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So, as she was pleased herself, she tried hard to please others. She had always been good at that, and before long Joseph Sedley was her devoted slave and admirer. He stopped falling asleep after dinner. He drove out with Becky in his carriage. He invited people to dinner and gave little parties to entertain her. Soon she had a circle of admirers, and Jos's house had never been so lively as Becky caused it to be. She sang, she played, she laughed, she talked in two or three languages; she brought everybody to the house -- and made Jos believe that they came to see him.

Becky's plan for helping Major Dobbin to achieve his desire remained a secret, as she was more interested in her own concerns for the moment. Suddenly and unexpectedly, she found herself living in comfort, surrounded by kind, good-natured people, and the change from her usual restless, uncertain life was very pleasant to her.

Becky soon discovered how to please Amelia. She talked to her constantly about Dobbin, how she admired him, and how cruelly Amelia had treated him. Amelia defended herself, saying she owed a lifelong devotion to George, she could never forget him, he had been the best, the most wonderful husband anyone could have… But at the same time she seemed to like hearing Becky praise the Major, and indeed, she brought the conversation round to him herself, at least twenty times a day.

She was not happy, though. She was nervous, silent, and hard to please. In the evenings, when she tried to sing the Major's favourite songs, she would break off and hurry to her room, where, no doubt, the picture of her husband would comfort her. Georgy, looking for something in his mother's desk one day, found a pair of the Major's gloves there, neatly folded and placed in one of the secret drawers.

Dobbin wrote regularly to Georgy, and once or twice he wrote to Amelia too, but his letters were cold. She had lost her power over him, and he no longer loved her, she realized. He had left her, and she saw now the beauty and the purity of the affection that she had thrown away, and she was miserable.

In June, they moved to Ostend on the Belgian coast, for the sea air. Becky met some gentlemen friends there, from her travelling days, and although she wasn't pleased to see them, they were very pleased to see her, and to learn that she had a rich friend in Mr Sedley. They invaded Jos's house, ate his dinners, drank his wine, paid drunken compliments to Amelia, and argued which of them should marry the rich little widow.

Becky made sure that Amelia was never left alone with these men, but Amelia was still terrified of them. She begged Jos to take her home to England, but since Becky preferred to stay in Europe, so did Jos. At last, in despair one day, Amelia wrote secretly to a friend. When she returned from posting the letter, she went to her room and stayed there. Becky realized that Amelia was frightened of the visitors in the drawing-room.

"She must go away, the silly little fool," Becky thought. "She needs a husband, and she must marry the Major. I'll arrange it tonight." So she took a cup of tea to Amelia in her room, and found her sitting there with her picture, very sad and nervous.

"Thank you," said Amelia.

"Listen to me, Amelia," Becky said, looking at Amelia with a sort of angry kindness. "You must go away from here and from men like these. They are not good men. Never mind how I know them -- I know everybody. Jos can't protect you; he's too weak. He can't even protect himself. And as for you, you are no more able to look after yourself than a baby. You must marry, or you and your precious boy will be ruined. You must have a husband, you fool; and one of the best gentlemen I ever saw has asked you a hundred times, and you have refused him, you silly, heartless, ungrateful little creature!"

"Couldn't forget him!" cried Becky. "That selfish fool! That vain, boastful, heartless creature! He was tired of you, Amelia, and would never have married you if Dobbin hadn't forced him to keep his promise. George told me. He never cared for you. He used to make fun of you, time after time. And the week after he married you, he was whispering words of love to me."

"I tried -- I tried my best, Rebecca," said Amelia, sorrowfully, "but I couldn't forget…" and she looked up at the picture of George which was over her bed.

"That's not true, Rebecca!" Amelia cried, jumping up.

"Look at this, then, you fool," said Rebecca, calmly. She took out a little note from her pocket, and dropped it into Amelia's hands. "You know his writing. He wrote that to me -- wanted me to run away with him -- gave it to me under your nose, the day before he was shot -- which he well deserved!"

Amelia did not hear her; she was looking at the letter. It was the letter that George had hidden in the flowers and given to Becky on the night of the ball before the Battle of Waterloo. It was true. George had asked Becky to go away with him.

Becky laughed so loudly that the whole house could hear her.

"I -- I wrote to him this morning," Amelia said, blushing.

Indeed, Amelia did not cry as much as Becky expected and, after a moment or two, Becky kissed her and said, "And now let us write to him this very minute."

"I hope he won't cross in such bad weather," Amelia said.

Amelia put her face in her hands, and wept. Were those tears sweet or bitter? Did she cry because George was no longer the perfect husband she had adored -- or because there was now no reason to stop her loving Dobbin? "There's nothing to forbid me now," she thought. "I may love him with all my heart now. Oh, I will, I will, if he will let me, if he will forgive me."

Two mornings after this, in spite of heavy rain and a strong wind, Amelia rose early and insisted on taking a walk along the harbour with Georgy. They stared anxiously out across the rough sea, with the rain beating in their faces.

"Of course he will," the boy said. He pointed out to sea. "Look, mother, there's the ship now!"

Then she stepped forward, with her two little hands held out before her, and the next minute she had disappeared in his arms.

Now the ship was in the harbour, now the tall thin figure was hurrying off the ship. Suddenly, Georgy ran away, to look at something terribly interesting at the other end of the harbour, leaving his mother standing trembling in the rain.

Yes, there was the ship, but he might not be on it -- he might not have got the letter -- he might not choose to come. A hundred fears poured into Amelia's heart. The white-topped waves were beating like thunder against the harbour wall, and no doubt that little heart was beating just as wildly.

A little murmur could be heard. "Forgive -- dear William -- dear, dear friend -- forgive, forgive…" She was kissing one of his hands again and again, and with his other hand, Dobbin held her close to his heart, safe within the folds of his greatcoat.

The ship came nearer, and a tall, thin figure could be seen on it, staring towards the harbour. "Look -- there he is!" Georgy shouted. "The man in the greatcoat -- it's Dob!" He threw his arms round his mother.

"You will never leave me again, will you, William?"

"It was time you sent for me, dear Amelia," he said.

Eventually Amelia lifted her head, and looked up at his face. It was full of sadness and love and pity.

"No, never," he answered, and held her tightly.

At last Dobbin had what he had wanted every day and every hour for eighteen years. There she was, close to his heart, whispering loving words. At last he had the prize he had been hoping for all his life.

When it was over, and Georgy and his parents had left for England, Becky returned (just for a few days, of course) to comfort poor Jos, who was now left alone. Jos preferred the European life, he said, and refused his sister's invitation to live with her and her husband in England.

Becky never showed herself to Amelia and Dobbin again. Perhaps it was a feeling of guilt towards the kind and simple creature who had been the first in life to defend her. Perhaps it was a dislike of emotional occasions, but she disappeared at once to Bruges on "particular business", she said; and only Georgy and his uncle were present at the wedding of Major William Dobbin to Mrs Amelia Osborne.

They walked to the house, and Georgy danced round them, laughing and singing joyously. And there we will leave them.

When Amelia gave birth to a daughter, Dobbin's happiness was complete. Lady Jane and Mrs Dobbin became great friends, and Georgy and young Rawdon played together in the holidays, went to Cambridge University together -- and quarrelled about Lady Jane's daughter, with whom they were both in love.

Dobbin left the army after he was married, and he and his family rented a house near Queen's Crawley, where Sir Pitt, Lady Jane, their daughter, and young Rawdon Crawley were living. Sir Pitt's little son, always sickly, had died some years ago, which meant that young Rawdon would be the next baronet.

Mrs Rawdon Crawley's name was never mentioned by either family. There were reasons for this silence, because wherever Joseph Sedley went, she went too, and that foolish man seemed to be completely her slave. Dobbin's lawyers informed him that his brother-in-law had taken out a heavy insurance on his life, and had probably been raising money to pay debts.

Hearing about this, Amelia, in great alarm, begged Dobbin to go and see her brother, who was now in Brussels.

"But -- but -- oh, for God's sake, please come and live near me, and -- and -- see me sometimes," Jos begged.

Dobbin frowned. "We can't, Jos," he said. "You know Amelia can't visit you while Rebecca is here."

"But Becky is innocent," Joseph said desperately. "Innocent as a child, as innocent as your own wife."

Jos was living in a hotel, in which Mrs Crawley also had an apartment, and Jos begged Dobbin to visit him at a time when he believed Becky was out. Dobbin found his brother-in-law in very poor health, and dreadfully afraid of Becky, though eager in his praises of her. She had looked after him devotedly through a number of strange illnesses. She had been a daughter to him.

"That may be so," Dobbin said, gloomily; "but Emmy can't visit you while she's here. Be a man, Jos. Break off this connection, and come home to your family. We hear you are in debt too."

"You are not in debt then? Why did you insure your life?"

"In debt!" cried Jos. "Nonsense! Mrs Crawley has -- I mean, all my money is quite -- is well taken care of."

Dobbin begged Jos to run away, to go back to India where Mrs Crawley could not follow him, to escape while he still could.

He never saw Jos again. Three months later Joseph Sedley died in France. Most of his money had gone, except for the insurance money, which was divided equally between his "sister Amelia" and his "friend Rebecca". Lawyers for the insurance company said that it was a most suspicious case, and they wanted an investigation into the death. But "friend Rebecca" -- or Lady Crawley, as she now called herself -- came to London at once, and hired her own lawyers. She won the case and the money was paid.

"I thought -- in case anything happened -- a little present to her, so grateful… but all my money will come to you, of course."

Jos seized Dobbin's hand. "Yes, I'll go to India, but don't tell her. I must have time. She'd kill me if she knew. You don't know what a terrible woman she is," the poor man said.

But Jos did not have the courage to do that. He would see Dobbin again, but Dobbin must say nothing about his visit, and must go now. Becky might come in at any moment. And Dobbin left, full of fear and anxiety.

"Then why not come away with me now?" Dobbin said.

She never was Lady Crawley, though she continued to use the name. Her husband Rawdon died of yellow fever on Coventry Island, six weeks before the death of his brother, Sir Pitt Crawley. On Sir Pitt's death, Becky's son, as the only living male in the Crawley family, became Sir Rawdon Crawley and inherited all the Crawley houses and land.

At one of these events in London, Amelia and her family suddenly came face to face with Becky. She gave an amused little smile as they hurried away from her -- Amelia on the arm of her son Georgy, now a handsome young gentleman, and Dobbin, carrying his little daughter Janey, of whom he is fonder than of anything in the world.

Sir Rawdon continues to live at Queen's Crawley with Lady Jane and her daughter. He has refused to see his mother, to whom he pays a generous yearly allowance, and who appears in any case to be very wealthy. She lives in Bath and London, and many people believe her to be a most cruelly treated woman. She has her enemies. Who has not? But she goes to church, and is deeply involved in church events that raise money to help the sick, the poor, the homeless, and other unhappy people.

Oh, the vanity and folly of human wishes! Which of us is happy in this world? Which of us has our heart's desire? Or, having it, is satisfied?

"Fonder than he is of me," Amelia thinks, with a sigh. But he never said a word to Amelia that was not kind and gentle, or thought of a wish of hers that he did not try to satisfy.