He believed Osborne to be the possessor of every perfection, to be the handsomest, the bravest, the most active, the cleverest, the most generous of created boys.

He shared his money with him: bought him uncountable presents of knives, pencil-cases, gold seals, toffee, Little Warblers, and romantic books, with large coloured pictures of knights and robbers, in many of which latter you might read inscriptions to George Sedley Osborne, Esquire, from his attached friend William Dobbin--the which tokens of homage George received very graciously, as became his superior merit.
So that Lieutenant Osborne, when coming to Russell Square on the day of the Vauxhall party, said to the ladies, "Mrs.Sedley, Ma'am, I hope you have room; I've asked Dobbin of ours to come and dine here, and go with us to Vauxhall.

He's almost as modest as Jos." "Modesty! pooh," said the stout gentleman, casting a vainqueur look at Miss Sharp.
"He is--but you are incomparably more graceful, Sedley," Osborne added, laughing.

"I met him at the Bedford, when I went to look for you; and I told him that Miss Amelia was come home, and that we were all bent on going out for a night's pleasuring; and that Mrs.Sedley had forgiven his breaking the punch-bowl at the child's party.

Don't you remember the catastrophe, Ma'am, seven years ago ?" "Over Mrs.Flamingo's crimson silk gown," said good-natured Mrs.
Sedley.