 CHAPTER XIII. Meanwhile they were wondering at Fair Oaks that the Major had not returned. Dr. Portman and his lady, on their way home to Clevering, stopped at Helen's Lodgegate, with a brief note for her from Major Pendenis, in which he said he should remain at Chatteras another day, being anxious to have some talk with Messarest Tatham, the lawyers, whom he would meet that afternoon. But no mention was made of the transaction in which the writer had been engaged during the morning. Indeed the note was written at that pause after the first part of the engagement, and when the Major had decidedly had the worst of the battle. Penden did not care somehow to go into the town whilst his uncle was there. He did not like to have to fancy that his guardian might be spying at him from that abominable dean's grass-plat, whilst he was making love in Miss Custigan's drawing-room. And the pleasure of a walk, a delight which he was very rarely permitted to enjoy, would have been spoiled if he had met the man of the polish-boots on that occasion. His modest love could not show in public by any outward signs except the eyes, with which the poor fellow ogled engaged violently to be sure. But it was dumb in the presence of third parties, and so much the better. For of all the talk which takes place in this world, that of love-makers is surely to the uninitiated the most silly. It is the vocabulary without the key, it is the lamp without the flame. Let the respected reader look or think over some old love-letters that he or she has had and forgotten, and try them over again. How blank and meaningless they seem. What glamour of infatuation was it which made that nonsense beautiful? One wonders that such peeling and thrash could ever have made one happy. And yet there were dates when you kissed those silly letters with rapture, lived upon six absurd lines for a week, and until the reactionary period came when you were restless and miserable until you got a fresh supply of folly. That is why we declined to publish any of the letters and verses which Mr. Penn wrote at this period of his life, out of mere regard for the young fellow's character. They are too swoony and wild. Young ladies ought not to be called upon to read them in cold blood. Bide your time, young women. Perhaps you will get and write them on your own account soon. Meanwhile we will respect Mr. Penn's first outpourings, and keep them tied up in the newspapers with misfothering gay string, and sealed with Captain Costigan's great silver seal. The Major came away from his interview with Captain Costigan in a state of such concentrated fury as rendered him terrible to approach. The impudent, bog-trotting scamp, he thought, dare to threaten me? Dare to talk of permitting his damn Costigan's to marry with the Pendenises? Send me a challenge? If the fellow can get anything in the shape of a gentleman to carry it, I have the greatest mind in life not to balk him. Pasha, what would people say if I were to go out with a tipsy monterbank, about a row with an actress in a barn? So when the Major saw Dr. Portman, who asked anxiously regarding the issue of his battle with the dragon, Mr. Pendenis did not care to inform the divine of the general's insolent behaviour, but stated that the affair was a very ugly and disagreeable one, and that it was by no means over yet. He enjoined Dr. and Mrs. Portman to say nothing about the business at Fair Oaks, whether he contented himself with dispatching the note we have before mentioned, and then he returned to his hotel, where he vented his wrath upon Mr. Morgan, his valet, damning and cussing upstairs and downstairs as that gentleman observed to Mr. Foker's man, in whose company he partook of dinner in the servant's room of the George. The servant carried the news to his master, and Mr. Foker having finished his breakfast about this time, it being two o'clock in the afternoon, remembered that he was anxious to know the result of the interview between his two friends, and having inquired the number of the major's sitting-room, went over in his brocade dressing-gown in Notford Mission. Major Pendenis had some business as he had stated respecting a lease of the widows about which he was desirous of consulting old Mr. Tatham, the lawyer, who had been his brother's man of business, and who had a branch office at Clevering, where he and his son attended market, and other days three or four in the week. This gentleman and his client were now in consultation when Mr. Foker showed his grand dressing-gown an embroidered skullcap at Major Pendenis's door. Seeing the major engaged with papers and red tape, and an old man with a white head, the modest youth was for drawing back, and said, oh, you're busy. Call again another time. But Mr. Pendenis wanted to see him, and begged him with a smile to enter, whereupon Mr. Foker took off the embroidered tabush or fez, it had been worked by the fondest of mothers, and advanced, bowing to the gentleman and smiling on them graciously. Mr. Tatham had never seen so splendid an apparition before as that brocaded youth, who seated himself in an armchair spreading out his crimson skirt, and looking with exceeding kindness and frankness on the other two tenants of the room. "'You seem to like my dressing-gown, sir,' he said to Mr. Tatham. "'A pretty thing, isn't it? Neat, but not in the lease gaudy. And how do you do, Major Pendenis, sir? And how does the world treat you?' There was that in Foker's manner in appearance, which would have put an inquisitor into good humor, and it smoothed the wrinkles under Pendenis's head of hair. "'I have had an interview with that Irishman. You may speak before my friend Mr. Tatham here, who knows all the affairs of the family. And it has not I own, being very satisfactory. He won't believe that my nephew is poor. He says we are both liars. He did me the honour to hint that I was a coward, as I took leave, and I thought, when you knocked at the door, that you might be the gentleman whom I expect with a challenge from Mr. Costigan. That is how the world treats me, Mr. Foker. "'You don't mean that Irishman the actress's father?' cried Mr. Tatham, who was a dissenter himself and did not patronise the drama. That Irishman the actress's father, the very man, "'Have not you heard what a fool my nephew has made of himself about the girl? Mr. Tatham, who never entered the walls of a theatre, had heard nothing. And Major Pendenis had to recount the story of his nephew's loves to the lawyer, Mr. Foker coming in with appropriate comments in his usual familiar language. Tatham was lost in wonder at the narrative. Why had not Mrs. Pendenis married a serious man, he thought? Mr. Tatham was a widower, and kept this unfortunate boy from perdition. As for Mr. Costigan's daughter, he would say nothing. Her profession was sufficient to characterise her. Mr. Foker here interposed to say he had known some uncommon good people in the booths, as he called the Temple of the Muses. "'Well, it might be so, Mr. Tatham hopes so. But the father,' Tatham knew personally, a man of the worst character, a wine-bibber, and an idler in taverns and billiard-rooms, and a notorious insolvent. "'I can understand the reason, Major,' he said, why the fellow would not come to my office to ascertain the truth of the statement, which you made him. We have a writ out against him and another disreputable fellow, one of the play actors, for a bill given to Mr. Skinner of this city, a most respectable grocer and wine-and-spirit merchant, and a member of the Society of Friends. This Costigan came crying to Mr. Skinner, crying in the shop, sir. And we have not proceeded against him, or the other, as neither were worth powder and shot.' It was whilst Mr. Tatham was engaged in telling this story that a third knot came to the door, and there entered an athletic gentleman in a shabby braided frock, bearing in his hand a letter with a large blotch red seal. Can I have the honour of speaking with Major Pendennis in private? He began, "'I have a few words for your ear, sir. I am the bearer of a mission from my friend Captain Costigan. But here the man with the base voice paused, faltered, and turned pale. He caught sight of the red and well-remembered face of Mr. Tatham. "'Hello, Garbott, speak up,' cried Mr. Foker, delighted. "'Why, bless my soul. It is the other party to the bill,' said Mr. Tatham. "'I say, sir. Stop, I say.' But Garbott, with a face as blank as Macbeth's when Banquo's ghost appeared upon him, gasped some inarticulate words and fled out of the room. The Major's gravity was also entirely upset, and he burst out laughing. So did Mr. Foker, who said, by jove it was a gooden. So did the attorney, although by profession a serious man. "'I don't think there'll be any fight, Major,' young Foker said, and began mimicking the tragedyan. "'If there is, the old gentleman, your name, Tatham? Very happy to make your quaintance, Mr. Tatham. May send the bailiffs to separate the men.' And Mr. Tatham promised to do so. The Major was by no means sorry at the ludicrous issue of the quarrel. "'It seems to me, sir,' he said to Mr. Foker, that you always arrived to put me into good humour. Nor was this the only occasion on which Mr. Foker this day was destined to be of service to the Pendennis family. We have said that he had the entree of Captain Costigan's lodgings, and in the course of the afternoon he thought he would pay the general a visit, and hear from his own lips what had occurred in the conversation in the morning with Mr. Pendennis. Captain Costigan was not at home. He had received permission, nay encouragement, from his daughter, to go to the convivial club at the Magpie Hotel, where no doubt he was bragging at that moment of his desire to murder a certain Ruffian, for he was not only brave, but he knew it too, and liked to take out his courage and, as it were, give it an airing in company. Costigan, then, was absent, but Miss Fothering Gay was at home washing the tea-cups whilst Mr. Bose sat opposite to her. "'It's done breakfast, I see. How do?' said Mr. Foker, popping in his little funny head. "'Get out, you funny little man,' cried Miss Fothering Gay. "'You mean come in?' answered the other. "'Here we are.' And entering the room he folded his arms and began twirling his head round and round with immense rapidity, like Harlequin in the pantomime, when he first issues from his cocoon or envelope. Miss Fothering Gay laughed with all her heart. A wink of Fokas would set her off laughing, when the bitterest joke Bose ever made could not get a smile from her, or the finest of poor Penn's speeches would only puzzle her. At the end of the Harlequin aid he sank down on one knee and kissed her hand. "'You're the drollest little man,' she said, and gave him a great good-humoured slap. Penn used to tremble as he kissed her hand. Penn would have died of a slap.' These preliminaries over, the three began to talk. Mr. Foker amused his companions by recounting to them the scene which he had just witnessed of the discomforture of Mr. Garberts, by which they learned for the first time how far the general had carried his wrath against Major Penn Dennis. Foker spoke strongly in favour of the Major's character for veracity and honour, and described him as a tipped top swell, moving in the upper circle of society, who would never submit to any deceit, much more to deceive such a charming young woman as Miss Foff. He touched delicately upon the delicate marriage question, though he couldn't help showing that he held Penn rather cheap. In fact, he had a perhaps just contempt for Mr. Penn's high-flown sentimentality. His own weakness, as he thought, not lying that way. "'I knew it wouldn't do, Miss Foff,' he said, nodding his little head. "'Couldn't do. Didn't like to put my hand into the bag. But knew it couldn't do. He's too young for you. Too green.' "'A deal, too green. And he turns out to be poor as Job.' "'Can't have him at no price, can she, Mr. Burr?' "'Indeed, he's a nice poor boy,' said the fatheringay, rather sadly. "'Poor little beggar,' said Burr's, with his hands in his pockets, and stealing up a queer look at Miss Fotheringay. Perhaps he thought and wondered at the way in which women play with men, and coax them, and win them, and drop them. But Mr. Burr's had not the least objection to acknowledge that he thought Miss Fotheringay was perfectly right in giving up Mr. Arthur Pendennis, and that in his idea the match was always an absurd one. And Miss Costigan owned that she thought so herself. Only she couldn't send away two thousand a year. It all comes of believing Papa's silly stories, she said, "'Faith, I'll choose for myself another time.' And very likely the large image of Lieutenant Sederbiogues entered into her mind at that instant. After praising Major Pendennis, whom Miss Costigan declared to be a proper gentleman entirely, smelling of lavender and as neat as a pin, and who was pronounced by Mr. Burr's to be the right sort of fellow, though rather too much of an old buck. Mr. Fokker suddenly bethought him to ask the pair to come and meet the Major, that very evening at dinner at his apartment at the George. He agreed to dine with me, and I think after the little shindy this morning, in which I must say the general was wrong. It would look kind, you know. I know the Major fell in love with you, Miss Foth. He said so. "'So she may be Mrs. Pendennis still,' Bose said with a sneer. "'No, thank you, Mr. F. I've dined.' "'Sure, that was at three o'clock,' said Miss Costigan, who had an honest appetite. And I can't go without you.' "'We'll have lobster salad and champagne,' said the little monster, who could not construe a line of Latin, or do a sum beyond the rule of three. Now, for lobster salad and champagne in an honourable manner, Miss Costigan would have gone anywhere. And Major Pendennis actually found himself at seven o'clock seated at a dinner-table, in company with Mr. Bose, a professional fiddler, and Miss Costigan, whose father had wanted to blow his brains out a few hours before. To make the happy meeting complete, Mr. Fokker, who knew Costigan's haunts, dispatched to put to the club at the Magpie, where the general was in the act of singing a pathetic song, and brought him off to supper. To find his daughter and Bose seated at the board was a surprise indeed. Major Pendennis laughed and cordially held out his hand, which the general officer grasped a feck of fusion, as the French say. In fact, he was considerably inebriated, and had already been crying over his own song, before he joined the little party at the George. He burst into tears more than once during the entertainment, and called the Major his dearest friend. Stupid and Mr. Fokker walked home with him, the Major gallantly giving his arm to Miss Costigan. He was received with great friendliness when he called the next day, when many civilities passed between the gentlemen. On taking leave he expressed his anxious desire to serve Miss Costigan on any occasion in which he could be useful to her. And he shook hands with Mr. Fokker most cordially and gratefully, and said that gentleman had done him the very greatest service. All right! said Mr. Fokker, and they parted with mutual esteem. On his return to Faroaks the next day Major Pendennis did not say what had happened to him on the previous night, or allude to the company in which he had passed it. But he engaged Mr. Smirk to stop to dinner, and any person accustomed to watch his manner might have remarked that there was something constrained in his hilarity and talkativeness, and that he was unusually gracious and watchful in his communications with his nephew. He gave pen and emphatic God bless you when the lad went to bed. And as they were about to part for the night he seemed as if he was going to say something to Mrs. Pendennis. But he bethought him that if he spoke he might spoil her night's rest, and allowed her to sleep in peace. The next morning he was down in the breakfast-room earlier than was his custom, and saluted everybody there with great cordiality. The post used to arrive commonly about the end of this meal. When John, the old servant, entered and discharged the bag of its letters and papers, the Major looked hard at pen as the lad got his. Arthur blushed and put his letter down. He knew the hand, it was that of old Costigan, and he did not care to read it in public. Major Pendennis knew the letter too. He had put it into the post himself in Chatteros the day before. He told little Laura to go away, which the child did, having a thorough dislike to him. And as the door closed on her he took Mrs. Pendennis's hand, and giving her a lookful of meaning pointed to the letter under the newspaper which pen was pretending to read. "'Will you come into the drawing-room?' he said. "'I want to speak to you.' And she followed him, wandering into the hall. What is it?' she said nervously. "'The affair is at an end,' Major Pendennis said. "'He has a letter there, giving him his dismissal. I dictated it myself yesterday. There are a few lines from the lady, too, bidding him farewell. It is all over.' Helen ran back into the dining-room, her brother following. Pen had jumped at his letter the instant they were gone. He was reading it with a stupefied face. It stated what the Major had said, that Mr. Costigan was most gratified for the kindness with which Arthur had treated his daughter, but that he was only now made aware of Mr. Pendennis's pecupiary circumstances. There were such that marriage was at present out of the question. And considering the great disparity in the age of the two, a future union was impossible. Under these circumstances, and with the deepest regret and esteem for him, Mr. Costigan bade Arthur farewell, and suggested that he should cease visiting—for some time, at least—at his house. A few lines from Miss Costigan were enclosed. She acquiesced in the decision of her papa. She pointed out that she was many years older than Arthur, and that an engagement was not to be thought of. She would always be grateful for his kindness to her, and hoped to keep his friendship. But, at present, and until the pain of the separation should be over, she entreated they should not meet. Penn read Costigan's letter and its enclosure mechanically, hardly knowing what was before his eyes. He looked up wildly, and saw his mother and uncle regarding him with sad faces. Helen's, indeed, was full of tender maternal anxiety. What? What is this? Penn said. It's some joke. This is not her writing. This is some servant's writing. Who's playing these tricks upon me? It comes under her father's envelope, the Major said. Those letters you had before were not in her hand. That is hers. How do you know? said Penn very fiercely. I saw her write it, the uncle answered, as the boy started up, and his mother coming forward took his hand. He put her away. How came you to see her? How came you between me and her? What have I ever done to you that you should—? Oh, it's not true. It's not true! Penn broke out with a wild execration. She can't have done it of her own accord. She can't mean it. She's pledged to me. Who has told her lies to break her from me? Lies are not told in this family, Arthur, Major Pendonis replied. I told her the truth, which was that you had no money to maintain her. For her foolish father had represented you to be rich, and when she knew how poor you were, she withdrew at once, and without any persuasion of mine. She was quite right. She is ten years older than you. She is perfectly unfitted to be your wife, and knows it. Look at the handwriting, and ask yourself, is such a woman fitted to be the companion of your mother? I will know it from herself if it is true, Arthur said, crumpling up the paper. Won't you take my word of honour? Her letters were written by a confidant of hers, who writes better than she can. Look here. Here's one from the lady to your friend, Mr. Folker. You have seen her with Miss Costigan, as whose emmanuance as she acted. The Major said, with ever so little of a sneer, and laid down a certain billet which Mr. Folker had given to him. It's not that, said Penn, burning with shame and rage. I suppose what you say is true, sir, but I'll hear it from herself. Arthur, appealed to his mother. I will see her, said Arthur. I'll ask her to marry me once more. I will. No one shall prevent me. What? A woman who spells affection with one F? Nonsense, sir. Be a man, and remember that your mother is a lady. She was never made to associate with that tipsy old twindler or his daughter. Be a man, and forget her, as she does you. Be a man, and comfort your mother, my Arthur, Helen said, going and embracing him. And seeing that the pair were greatly moved, Major Penn Dennis went out of the room and shut the door upon them, wisely judging that they were best alone. He had won a complete victory. He actually had brought away Penn's letters in his Portmanteau from Chatteros, having complimented Mr. Costigan when he returned them by giving him the little promissory note which had disquieted him and Mr. Garbott, and for which the Major settled with Mr. Tatham. Penn rushed wildly off to Chatteros that day, but in vain attempted to see Miss Fotheringay, for whom he left a letter enclosed to her father. The enclosure was returned by Mr. Costigan, who begged that all correspondence might end, and after one or two further attempts of the lads, the indignant general desired that their acquaintance might cease. He cut Penn in the street. As Arthur and Foko were pacing the castle walk one day, they came upon Emily on her father's arm. She passed without any nod of recognition. Foko felt poor Penn trembling on his arm. His uncle wanted him to travel, to quit the country for a while, and his mother urged him to, for he was growing very ill, and suffered severely. But he refused, and said point blank he would not go. He would not obey in this instance, and his mother was too fond and his uncle too wise to force him. When never Miss Fotheringay acted, he rode over to the Chatteros theatre, and saw her. One night there were so few people in the house that the manager returned the money. Penn came home, and went to bed at eight o'clock, and had a fever. If this continues, his mother will be going over and fetching the girl the major thought in despair. As for Penn, he thought he should die. We are not going to describe his feelings, or give a dreary journal of his despair and passion. Have not other gentlemen been balked in love besides Mr. Penn? Yes, indeed. But few die of the malady. In which Miss Fotheringay makes a new engagement. Within a short period of the events above narrated, Mr. Manager Bingley was performing his famous character of Vrola in Pizarro, to a house so exceedingly thin that it would appear as if the part of Vrola was by no means such a favourite with the people of Chatteros as it was with the accomplished actor himself. Scarce anybody was in the theatre. Poor Penn had the boxes almost all to himself, and sat there lonely with bloodshot eyes leaning over the edge and gazing haggardly towards the scene when Cora came in. When she was not on the stage he saw nothing, Spaniards and Peruvians, processions and battles, priests and virgins of the sun, went in and went out, and had their talk, but Arthur took no note of any of them, and only saw Cora whom his soul longed for. He said afterwards that he wondered he had not taken a pistol to shoot her, so mad was he with love and rage and despair, and had it not been for his mother at home to whom he did not speak about his luckless condition, but whose silent sympathy and watchfulness greatly comforted the simple half-heartbroken fellow, who knows but he might have done something desperate and have ended his days prematurely in front of Chatteros jail. There he sat then miserable and gazing at her, and she took no more notice of him than he did of the rest of the house. The father Inge was uncommonly handsome, in a white raiment and leopard skin, with a sun upon her breast, and fine taudry bracelets on her beautiful glancing arms. She spouted with admiration the few words of her part, and looked it still better. The eyes which had overthrown Penn's soul rolled and gleamed as lustrous as ever, but it was not to him that they were directed that night. He did not know to whom, or remark a couple of gentlemen in the box next to him, upon whom the father Inge's glances were perpetually shining. Nor had Penn noticed the extraordinary change which had taken place on the stage a short time after the entry of those two gentlemen into the theatre. There were so few people in the house that the first act of the play languished entirely, and there had been some question of returning the money, as upon the other unfortunate night when poor Penn had been driven away. The actors were perfectly careless about their parts, and yawned through the dialogue, and talked loud to each other in the intervals. Even Bingley was listless, and Mrs. B, in Elvira, spoke under her breath. How came it that all of a sudden Mrs. Bingley began to raise her voice in bellow like a bull of bachan? Wents was it that Bingley, flinging off his apathy, darted about the stage, and yelled like Dean? When did Garbots and Raucans and Miss Rounsey try, each of them, the force of their charms or graces, and act and swagger and scowl and spout, their very loudest, at the two gentlemen in box number three? One was a quiet little man in black with a gray head and a jolly shrewd face. The other was in all respects a splendid and remarkable individual. He was a tall and portly gentleman with a hooked nose and a profusion of curling brown hair and whiskers. His coat was covered with the richest frog-spraying and velvet. He had under-waste coats, many splendid rings, jeweled pins, and neck chains. When he took out his yellow pocket handkerchief with his hand that was cased in white kid, a delightful odor of mask and bergamot was shaken through the house. He was evidently a personage of rank, and it was at him that the little chatterous company was acting. He was in a word no other than Mr. Dolphin, the great manager from London, accompanied by his faithful friend and secretary, Mr. William Minnes, without whom he never travelled. He had not been ten minutes in the theatre before his august presence there was perceived by Bingley and the rest, and they all began to act their best and try to engage his attention. Even misfathering gay's dull heart, which was disturbed at nothing, felt perhaps a flutter when she came in presence of the famous London impresario. She had not much to do in her part, but to look handsome and stand in picturesque attitudes in circling her child, and she did this work to admiration. In vain the various actors tried to win the favour of the great stage sultan. Pazzario never got a hand from him. Bingley yelled and Mrs. Bingley bellowed, and the manager only took snuff out of his great gold box. It was only in the last scene when Roller comes in staggering with the infant. Bingley is not so strong as he was, and his fourth son, Master Talmer Bingley, is a monstrous, large child for his age. When Roller comes staggering with the child to Cora, who rushes forward with her shriek and says, Oh God, there's blood upon him, that the London manager clapped his hands and broke out with an enthusiastic bravo. Then, having concluded his applause, Mr. Dolphin gave his secretary a slap on the shoulder and said, By Jeff, Billy, she'll do. Who taught her that dodge? said old Billy, who was a sardonic old gentleman. I remember her at the Olympic and hang me if she could say boo to a goose. It was little Mr. Bose in the orchestra who had taught her the dodge in question. All the company heard the applause, and, as the curtain went down, came round her, and congratulated and hated Miss Fotheringay. Now Mr. Dolphin's appearance in the remote Little Chatterer's theatre may be accounted for in this manner. In spite of all his exertions, and the perpetual blazes of triumph, carouscations of talent, victories of good old English comedy, which is Playbill's Advertise, his theatre, which, if you please, and to injure no present susceptibilities invested interests, we shall call the Museum Theatre, by no means prospered, and the famous impresario found himself on the verge of ruin. The great Hubbard had acted legitimate drama for twenty-nights, and failed to remunerate anybody but himself. The celebrated Mr. and Mrs. Cordeaux had come out in Mr. Rohed's tragedy, and in their favourite round of pieces, and had not attracted the public. Hair-garbages, lions, and tigers had drawn for a little time, until one of the animals had bitten a piece out of the hair's shoulder, when the Lord Chamberlain interfered and put a stop to this species of performance, and the grand lyrical drama, though brought out with un-exampled splendour and success with Monsieur Pomont as first tenor, and an enormous orchestra, had almost crushed poor dolphin in its triumphant progress. So that great as his genius and resources were, they seemed to be at an end. He was dragging on his season wretchedly, with half-selleries, small operas, feeble old comedies, and his ballet company, and everybody was looking out for the day when he should appear in the Gazette. One of the illustrious patrons of the Museum Theatre, an occupant of the great proscenium box, was a gentleman whose name has been mentioned in a previous history, that refined patron of the arts, an enlightened lover of music and the drama, the most noble, the Mucky of Stein. His lordship's avocations as a statesman prevent him from attending the playhouse very often, or coming very early, but he occasionally appeared at the theatre in time for the ballet, and was always received with the greatest respect by the manager, from whom he sometimes condescended to receive a visit in his box. It communicated with the stage, and when anything occurred there which particularly pleased him, when a new face made its appearance among the choreography, or a fair dancer executed a part with a special grace or agility, Mr. Wenham, Mr. Wag, or some other aid to camp of the noble Mucky, would be commissioned to go behind the scenes and express the great man's approbation, or make the inquiries which were prompted by his lordship's curiosity, or his interest in the dramatic art. He could not be seen by the audience, for Lord Stein sat modestly behind a curtain, and looked only toward the stage, but you could know he was in the house by the glances which all the courgette ballet and all the principal dancers cast towards his box. I have seen many scores of pairs of eyes, as in the palm dance in the ballet of Cook at Ota Haiti, where no less than a hundred and twenty lovely female savages in palm leaves and feather aprons were made to dance around Florida as Captain Cook, ogling that box as they performed before it, and have often wondered to remark the presence of mind of Mademoiselle Sauterelle or Mademoiselle de Bondi, known as La Petite Couture, who, when actually up in the air, quivering like so many shuttlecocks, always kept their lovely eyes winking at that box in which the great Stein sat. Now and then you would hear a harsh voice from behind the curtain cry, brava, brava, or a pair of white gloves wave from it, and begin to applaud. Bondi or Sauterelle, when they came down to earth, curtsied and smiled especially to those hands, before they walked up the stage again, panting and happy. One night this great prince, surrounded by a few choice friends, was in his box at the museum, and they were making such a noise and laughter that the pit was scandalised, and many indignant voices were boiling out silence so loudly that Wagg wondered the police did not interfere to take the rascals out. Wenham was amusing the party in the box with extracts from a private letter which he had received from Major Pendennis, whose absence in the country at the full London season had been remarked, and, of course, deplored by his friends. The secret is out, said Mr. Wenham. There's a woman in the case. Why, damn it, Wenham, he's your age, said the gentleman behind the curtain. For my part I hope to be a victim till I die, and to break my heart every year of my life. The meaning of which sentence was, my lord, you need not talk. I'm three years younger than you, and twice as well can serve. Wenham, you affect me, said the great man with one of his usual oaths. By God you do. I like to see a fellow preserving all the illusions of youth up to our time of life, and keeping his heart warm as yours is. Hang it, sir, it's a comfort to meet with such a generous, candid creature. Who's that gal in the second row? With blue ribbons. Third from the stage. Fine gal. Yes, you and I are sentimentalists. Wag, I don't think so much cares. It's the stomach rather more than the heart with you a-wag, my boy. I like everything that's good, said Mr. Wag generously. Beauty and burgundy. Venus and venison. I don't say that Venus's turtles are to be despised because they don't cook them at the London tavern. But tell us about old Pendennis, Mr. Wenham. He abruptly concluded, for his joke flagged just then, as he saw that his patron was not listening. In fact, Stein's glasses were up, and he was examining some object on the stage. Yes, I've heard that joke about Venus's turtles in the London tavern before. You begin to fail, my poor wag. If you don't mind, I shall be obliged to have a new jester. Lord Stein said, laying down his glass, Go on, Wenham, about old Pendennis. Dear Wenham—he begins, Mr. Wenham read. As you have had my character in your hands for the last three weeks, and no doubt have torn me to shreds, according to your custom, I think you can afford to be good-humoured by way of variety, and to do me a service. It is a delicate matter, entre nous une affaire de coeur. There is a young friend of mine who has gone wild about a certain misfothering gay, an actress at the theatre here, and I must own to you as handsome a woman, and, as it appears to me, as good an actress as ever put on Rouge. She does Ophelia, Lady Teasle, Mrs. Haller—that sort of thing. Upon my word, she is as splendid as George's in her best days, and, as far as I know, utterly superior to anything we have on our scene. I want a London engagement for her. Can't you get your friend Dolphin to come and see her, to engage her, to take her out of this place? A word from a noble friend of ours, you understand, would be invaluable. And if you could get the Gaunt-house interest for me, I will promise anything I can in return for your service, which I shall consider one of the greatest that can be done to me. Do do this now, as a good fellow, which I always said you were, and, in return, command yours truly, Ape and Dennis. It's a clear case, said Mr. Wenham, having read this letter. Old Pendennis is in love, and wants to get the woman up to London, evidently, continued Mr. Wag. I should like to see Pendennis on his knees, with the rheumatism, said Mr. Wenham. Or accommodating the beloved object with the lock of his hair, said Wag. Stuff, said the great man. He has relations in the country, hasn't he? He said something about a nephew, whose interests could return a member. It is the nephew's affair. Depend on it. The young one is in a scrape. I was myself when I was in the fifth form at Eaton, the market gardener's daughter, and I swore I'd marry her. I was mad about her. Poor Polly. Here he made a pause, and perhaps the past rose up to Lord Stein, and George Gaunt was a boy again, not altogether lost. But I say she must be a fine woman from Pendennis's account. Have in Dolphin, and let us hear if he knows anything of her. At this Wenham sprang out of the box, past the servitor who waited at the door communicating with the stage, and who saluted Mr. Wenham with profound respect, and the latter emissary, pushing on and familiar with the place, had no difficulty in finding out the manager, who was employed, as he not infrequently was, in swearing in cursing the ladies of the Cord de Ballet for not doing their duty. The oaths died away on Mr. Dolphin's lips, as soon as he saw Mr. Wenham, and he drew off the hand which was clenched in the face of one of the offending Cora Faes, to grasp that of the newcomer. How do, Mr. Wenham, how's his lordship tonight? Looking uncommonly well, said the manager, smiling as if he had never been out of temper in his life, and he was only too delighted to follow Lord Stein's ambassador, and pay his personal respects to that great man. The visit to Chatteros was the result of their conversation, and Mr. Dolphin wrote to his lordship from that place, and did himself the honour to inform the Marques of Stein that he had seen the lady about whom his lordship had spoken, that he was as much struck by her talents as he was by her personal appearance, and that he had made an engagement with Miss Fatheringay, who would soon have the honour of appearing before a London audience, and his noble and enlightened patron, the Marques of Stein. Penn read the announcement of Miss Fatheringay's engagement in the Chatteros paper, where he had so often praised her charms. The editor made very handsome mention of her talent and beauty, and prophesied her success in the metropolis. Bingley, the manager, began to advertise the last night of Miss Fatheringay's engagement. Poor Penn and Sederby Oaks were very constant at the play, Sederby at the stage box, throwing bouquets and getting glances. Penn in the almost deserted boxes, haggard, wretched, and lonely. Nobody cared whether Miss Fatheringay was going or staying except those two, and perhaps one more, which was Mr. Bowes of the orchestra. He came out of his place one night, and went into the house to the box where Penn was, and he held out his hand to him, and asked him to come and walk. They walked down the street together, and went and sat upon Chatteros Bridge in the moonlight, and talked about her. We may sit on the same bridge, said he. We have been in the same boat for a long time. You are not the only man who has made a fool of himself about that woman. And I have less excuse than you, because I am older and know her better. She has no more heart than the stone you are leaning on, and it or you or I might fall into the water and never come up again, and she wouldn't care. Yes, she would care for me, because she wants me to teach her, and she won't be able to get on without me, and will be forced to send for me from London. But she wouldn't if she didn't want me. She has no heart, and no head, and no sense, and no feelings, and no griefs or cares whatever. I was going to say no pleasures, but the fact is she does like her dinner, and she is pleased when people admire her. And you do? said Penn, interested out of himself, and wondering at the crabbed, homely little old man. It's a habit, like taking snuff or drinking drams, said the other. I've been taking her these five years, and can't do without her. It was I made her. If she doesn't send for me, I shall follow her. But I know she'll send for me. She wants me. Someday she'll marry and fling me over, as I do the end of this cigar. The little flaming spark dropped into the water below and disappeared, in Penn as he rode home that night, actually thought about somebody but himself. End of Chapter 14 Chapter 15 of the history of Pendennis. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The History of Pendennis by William Makepeace Thackeray Chapter 15 The Happy Village Until the enemy had retired altogether from before the place, Major Pendennis was resolved to keep his garrison in Fair Oaks. He did not appear to watch Penn's behavior or to put any restraint on his nephew's actions, but he managed nevertheless to keep the lad constantly under his eye, or those of his agents, and young Arthur's comings and goings were quite well known to his vigilant guardian. I suppose there is scarcely any man who reads this or any other novel that has been balked in love sometime or the other by fate and circumstance, by falsehood of women, or his own fault. Let that worthy friend recall his own sensations under the circumstances and apply them as illustrative of Mr. Penn's anguish. Ah, what weary nights and sickening fevers. Ah, what mad desires dashing up against some rock of obstruction or indifference and flung back again from the unimpressionable granite. If a list could be made this very night in London of the groans, thoughts, implications of tossing lovers, what a catalog it would be. I wonder what a percentage of the male population of the metropolis will be lying awake at two or three o'clock tomorrow morning counting the hours as they go by, knelling drearily and rolling from left to right, restless, yearning, and heart sick. What a pang it is. I never knew a man die of love certainly, but I have known a twelve stone man go down to nine stone five under a disappointed passion, so that pretty nearly quarter of him may be said to have perished. And that is no small portion. He has come back to his old size subsequently, perhaps as bigger than ever, very likely some new affection, has closed round his heart and ribs and made them comfortable, and young Penn is a man who will console himself like the rest of us. We say this lest the ladies should be disposed to deplore him prematurely or be seriously uneasy with regard to his complaint. His mother was, but what will not a maternal fondness, fear, or invent depend on it, my dear creature, major pendentist would say gallantly to her the boy will recover. As soon as we get her out of the country we will take him somewhere and show him a little light. Meantime make yourself easy about him. Half a fellow's pangs at losing a woman result from vanity more than affection to be left by a woman is the deuce and all to be sure, but look how easily we leave him. Mrs. Pendennis did not know. This sort of knowledge had by no means come within the simple ladies' scope. Indeed she did not like the subject or to talk of it. Her heart had had its own little private misadventure, and she had borne up against it and cured it, and perhaps she had not much patience with other folks' passions, except of course Arthur's, whose sufferings she made her own, feeling indeed very likely in many of the boy's illnesses and pains a great deal more than Pan himself endured. And she watched him through this present grief with a jealous silent sympathy, although as we have said he did not talk to her of his unfortunate condition. The major must be allowed to have had not a little merit and forbearance, and to have exhibited a highly creditable degree of family affection. The life at Bear Oaks was uncommonly dull to a man who had the entree of half the houses in London and was in the habit of making his bow in three or four drawing rooms of a night. A dinner with Dr. Portman, or a neighbouring squire, now and then, a dreary rubber at backgammon with the widow who did her utmost to amuse him. These were the chief of his pleasures. He used to long for the arrival of the bag with the letters, and he read every word of the evening paper. He doctored himself too assiduously. A course of quiet living would suit him well, he thought after the London banquets. He dressed himself laboriously every morning and afternoon. He took regular exercise up and down the terrace walk, thus with his cane, his toilet, his medicine chest, his back, gammon box, and his newspaper, this worthy and worldly philosopher, fenced himself against on we. And if he did not improve each shining hour like the bees by the widow's garden wall, Major Pendennis made one hour after another pass as he could and rendered his captivity just tolerable. After this period it was remarked that he was fond of bringing round the conversation to the American War, the massacre of Wyoming, and the brilliant actions of St. Lucie, the fact being that he had a couple of volumes of the annual register in his bedroom, which he seduously studied. It was thus a well-regulated man who will accommodate himself to circumstances and show himself calmly superior to fortune. Penn sometimes took the box at back-gabmon of a night or would listen to his mother's simple music of summer evenings, but he was very restless and wretched in spite of all, and has been known to be up before the early daylight even, and down at a carp pond in Clavering Park, a dreary pool with innumerable whispering rushes and green altars where a milkmaid drowned herself in the baronet's grandfather's time, and her ghost was said to walk still. But Penn did not drown himself as perhaps his mother fancied might be his intention. He liked to go and fish there and think and think at leisure as the float quivered in the little eddies of the pond, and the fish flapped about him. If he got a bite, he was excited enough, and in this way occasionally brought home carps, trenches, and eels, which the major cooked in the continental fashion. By this pond and under a tree, which was his favorite resort, Penn composed a number of poems suitable to his circumstances, over which verses he blushed in after days, wondering how he could ever have invented such rubbish. And as for the tree, why it is in a hollow of this very tree where he used to put his tin box of ground bait and other fishing commodities that he afterwards, but we are advancing matters. Suffice it to say he wrote poems and relieved himself very much. When a man's grief or passion is at this point, it may be loud, but it is not very severe. When a gentleman is cuddling his brain to find any rhyme for sorrow besides borrow and tomorrow, his woes are nearer at an end than he thinks for. So were Penn's. He had his heart and cold fits, his days of sullenness and pivishness, and a blank resignation and despondency, and occasional mad paroxysms of rage and longing, in which fits Rebecca would be saddled and galloped fiercely about the country or into chatterous, her rider gesticulating wildly on her back and astonishing carters and turnpikemen as he passed crying out the name of the false one. Mr. Folker became a very frequent and welcome visitor at Fair Oaks during this period, where his good spirits and oddities always amused the major and Penn Dennis, while they astonished the widow and little Laura, not a little. His tandem made a great sensation in Clevering Marketplace, where he upset up Marketstall and cut Mrs. Pibus's poodle over the shaven quarters and drank a glass of raspberry bitters at the Clevering arms. All the society in the little place heard who he was and looked out his name in their peerages. He was so young and their books so old that his name did not appear in many of their volumes, and his mama, now quite an antiquated lady, figured amongst the progeny of the Earl of Rocherville as Lady Agnes Milton still. But his name, wealth and honorable lineage were speedily known about Clevering, where you may be sure that poor Penn's little transaction with the chatterous actress was also pretty freely discussed. Looking at the little old town of Clevering, St. Mary from the London Road as it runs by the lodge at Fair Oaks and seeing the rapid and shining brawl winding down from the town and skirting the woods of Clevering Park and the ancient church tower and peaked roofs of the houses rising up amongst trees and old walls behind which swells a fair background of sunshiny hills that stretch from Clevering westwards toward the sea. The place looks so cheery and comfortable, but many a traveller's heart must have yearned towards it from the coach top and he must have thought that it was in such a calm friendly nook he would like to shelter at the end of life's struggle. Tom Smith, who used to drive the aliquity coach, would often point to a tree near the river from which a fine view of the church and town was commanded and inform his companion on the box that artists come and take off the church from that there tree. It was a happy one, sir, and indeed a pretty view it is which I recommend to Mr. Stanfield or Mr. Roberts for their next tour. Like Constantinople seen from the Baselthras, like Mrs. Rougement, viewed in her box from the opposite side of the house, like many an object which we pursue in life and admire before we have attained it. Clevering is rather prettier at a distance than it is on a closer acquaintance. The town so cheerful of aspect, a few furlongs off, looks very blank and dreary, except on market days there is nobody in the streets. The clack of a pair of patterns echoes through half the place and you may hear the creaking of the rusty old ensign at the Clevering arms without being disturbed by any other noise. There's not been a ball in the assembly room since the Clevering volunteers gave one to their colonel, the old Sir Francis Clevering, and the stables which once held a great part of that brilliant but defunct regiment are now cheerless and empty except on Thursdays. When the farmers put up there and their tilted carts and gigs make a feeble show of liveliness in the place or on petty sessions when the magistrates attend in what used to be the old card room. On the south side of the market rises up the church with his gray towers of which the sun illuminates the delicate carving deepening the shadows of the huge buttresses and gilding the glittering windows and flaming veins. The image of the patroness of the church was wrenched out of the porch centuries ago, such of the statues of saints as were within reach of stones and hammer at that period of pious demolition are maimed and headless and of those who were out of fire only Dr. Portman knows the names in history for his curate smirk is not much of an antiquarian and Mr. Simcoe, husband of the Honorable Mrs. Simcoe, incumbent and architect of the Chapel of Ease in the lower town, thinks them the abomination of desolation. The rectory is a stout broad-shouldered brick house of the reign of Anne. It communicates with the church and market by different gates and stands at the opening of U Tree Lane where the grammar school Reverend what's his name? Wapshot is U Tree Cottage, Miss Flatter, The Butcher's Slaughtering House, an old barn or brew house of the Abbey Times and the Mrs. Finney Kane's establishment for young ladies. The two schools have their pews in the loft on each side of the organ until the Abbey Church getting rather empty through the falling off of the congregation who were invagled to the heresy shop in the lower town. The doctor induced the Mrs. Finney Kane to bring their pretty little flock downstairs and the young lady's bonus made a tolerable show in the rather vacant aisles. Nobody is in the great pew of the clavaring family except the statues of defunct baronettes and their ladies. There are syrup points, clavaring, knight and baronette kneeling in a square beard opposite his wife in a rough, a very fat lady, the Dame Rebecca Clevering in Alto Reliva, is born up to heaven by two little blue veined angels who seem to have a severe task, and so forth. How well in after life Penn remembered those effigies and how often in youth he scanned them as the doctor was grumbling the sermon from the pulpit and Smirk's mouth hit and forehead curl peered over the great prayer book in the desk. The Fair Oaks folks were constant at the old church, their servants had a pew, so had the doctors, so had WAP shots and those of Mrs. Finney Kane's establishment, three maids and a very nice looking young man in a livery. The WAP shot family were numerous and faithful, Glanders and his children regularly came to church, so did one of the apothecaries. Mrs. Pibus went turn and turn about to the Low Town Church and to the Abbey, the charity school, and their families of course came. WAP shots boys made a good cheerful noise scuffling with their feet as they marched into the church and up the organ lofts there and blowing their noses a good deal during the service. To be brief, the congregation looked as decent as might be in these bad times. The Abbey church was furnished with a magnificent screen and many hatchments and heraldic tombstones. The doctors spent a great part of his income in beautifying his darling place. He had endowed it with a superb painted window bought in the Netherlands and an organ grand enough for a cathedral. But in spite of organ and window, in consequence of the latter, very likely which had come out of a papistical place of worship and was blazoned all over with idolatry, clattering new church prospered scandalously in the teeth of orthodoxy and many of the doctors' congregation deserted to Mr. Simcoe and the honorable woman his wife. Their efforts had thinned the very Ebenezer hard by them, which building before Simcoe's advent used to be so full that you could see the backs of the congregation squeezing out of the arched windows thereof. Mr. Simcoe's tracks fluttered into the doors of all the doctors' cottages and were taken as greedily as honest Mrs. Portman's soup with the quality of which the graceless people found fault. With the folks at the ribbon factory situated by the weir on the brawl's side and round which the low town had grown orthodoxy could make no way at all. Quiet Miss Myra was put out of court by impetuous Mrs. Simcoe and her female aides Durkheim. Ah, it was a hard burden for the doctor's lady to bear to behold her husband's congregation dwindling away. To give the precedents on the few occasions when they met to a notorious low churchman's wife who was the daughter of an Irish peer to know that there was a party in Clevering, their own town of Clevering on which her doctor spent a great deal more than his professional income who held him up to Odim because he played a rubber at Wist and pronounced him to be a heathen because he went to the play. In a grief she besought him to give up the play and the rubber. Indeed they could scarcely get a table now so dreadful was the outcry against the sport but the doctor declared that he would do what he thought right and what the great and good George the Third did, whose chaplain he had been and as for giving up Wist because those silly folks cried out against it he would play dummy to the end of his days with his wife and Myra rather than yield to their despicable persecutions. Other two families, owners of the factory which has spoiled the brawl as a trout stream and brought all the mischief into the town the senior partner Mr. Rote went to Ebenezer the junior Mr. Barker to the new church in a word people quarreled in this little place a great deal more than neighbors do in London and in the book club which the prudent and conciliating pendentists had set up and which ought to have been a neutral territory they bickered so much that nobody scarcely was ever seen in the reading room except Smirk who though he kept up a faint amity with the Simcoe faction had still a taste for magazines and light worldly literature and Oglander's whose white head and grizzly mustache might be seen at the window and of course little Mrs. Pibus who looked at everybody's letters as the post brought them for the clattering reading room as everyone knows used to be held at Baker's library London Street formerly Hog Lane and read every advertisement in the paper it may be imagined how great a sensation was created in the same little community when the news reached it of Mr. Penn's love passages at Chatteris it was carried from house to house and formed the subject of talk at high church low church and no church tables it was canvassed by the Mrs. Finneke and their teachers and very likely debated by the young ladies in the dormitories for what we know Wapshot's big boys had their version of the story and eyed Penn curiously as he sat in his pew at church or raised the finger of scorn at him as he passed through Chatteris they always hated him and called him Lord Penn Dennis because he did not wear corduroy's as they did and rode a horse and gave himself the heirs of a buck and if the truth must be told it was Mrs. Portman herself who was the chief narrator of the story of Penn's lives whatever tales this candid woman heard she was sure to impart them to her neighbors and after she had been put into possession a Penn's secret by the little scandal at Chatteris poor doctor Portman knew that it would next day be about the parish of which he was the rector and so indeed it was the whole society there had the legend at the newsroom at the milliners at the shoe shop and the general warehouse at the corner of the market and Mrs. Pibus's at the glanders's at the honorable Mrs. Simcoe's soiree at the factory nay through the mill itself the tale was current in a few hours and young Arthur Penn Dennis's madness was in every mouth all dr. Portman's acquaintances barked out upon him when he walked the street the next day the poor divine knew that his Betsy was the author of the rumor and groaned in spirit well well it must have come in a day or two and it was as well that the town should have the real story what the clevering folks thought of Mrs. Penn Dennis for spoiling her son and of that precocious young rascal of an Arthur for daring to propose to a play actress need not be told here if pride exists amongst any folks in our country and are shortly we have enough of it there is no pride more deep seated than that of topony old gentle women in small towns gracious goodness the cry was how infatuated the mother is about that pert and headstrong boy who gives himself the heirs of a lord on his blood horse and for whom our society is not good enough and he would marry an odious painted actress off a booth where very likely he wants to rant himself if dear good mr. Penn Dennis had been alive this scandal would never have happened no more it would very likely nor should we have been occupied in narrating Penn's history it was true that he gave himself heirs to the clevering folks naturally hearty and frank their cackle and small talk and small dignities bored him and he showed a contempt which he could not conceal the doctor and the cure were the only people Penn cared for in the place even mrs. Portman shared in the general distrust with him and of his mother the widow who kept herself aloof from the village society and was sneered at accordingly because she tried for soothe to keep her head up with the great county families she indeed mrs. Barker the factory has four times the butcher's meat that goes up to fair oaks with all their fine heirs et cetera et cetera et cetera let the reader fill up these details according to his liking and experience of village scandal they will suffice to show how it was that a good woman occupied solely in doing her duty to her neighbor and her children and an honest brave lad impetuous and full of good and wishing well to every mortal alive found enemies and detractors amongst people to whom they were superior and to whom they had never done anything like harm the clevering curse were yelping all around the house a fair oaks and delighted to pull Penn down Dr. Portman and smirk were both cautious of informing the widow of the constant outbreak of Calumny which was pursuing poor Penn though Glanders who was a friend of the house kept him oh caron it may be imagined what his indignation was was there any man in the village whom he could call to account presently some wags began to chalk up fathering gay forever and other sarcastic illusions to late transactions at Fair Oaks gate another brought a large playbill from chatterous and wafered it there one night on one occasion Penn riding through the lower town fancy he heard the factory boys cheer him and finally going through the doctor's gate into the church where some of Wapshot's boys were lounging the biggest of them a young gentleman about 20 years of age son of a neighboring small squire who lived in the doubtful capacity of parlor border with mr. Wapshot flung himself into a theatrical attitude near newly made grave and began repeating harmless verses over Ophelia with a hideous leer at Penn the young fellow was so enraged that he rushed at hobnell major with a shriek very much resembling an oath cut him furiously across the face with the riding whip which he carried flung it away calling upon the cowardly billing to defend himself and in another minute knocked the bewildered young riftian into the grave which was just waiting for a different larger then with his fists clenched in his face quivering with passion and indignation he roared out to mr. hobnell's gaping companions to know if any of the blackers would come on but they held back with a growl and retreated as dr. portman came up to his wicked and mr. hobnell with his nose and lip bleeding piteously emerged from the grave Penn looking death and defiance at the lads who'd retreated toward the side of the church yard walked back again through the doctor's wicked and was interrogated by that gentleman the young fellow was so agitated he could scarcely speak his voice broke into a sob as he answered the darned coward insulted me sir he said and the doctor passed over the earth and respected the emotion of the honest suffering young heart then Dennis the elder who like a real man of the world had a proper and constant dread of the opinion of his neighbor was prodigiously annoyed by the absurd little tempest which was blowing in chatterous and tossing about master penn's reputation dr. portman and captain glanders had to support the charges of the whole chatterous society against the young prep debate who was looked upon as a monster of crime penn did not say anything about the church yard scuffle at home but went over to baymouth and took counsel with his friend harry foker escuar who drove over his drag presently to the clattering arms when he sent stupid with a note to thomas hobnell escuar at the reverend jay wop shops and a civil message to ask when he should wait upon that gentleman stupid brought back word that the note had been opened by mr hobnell and read to half a dozen of the big boys on whom it seemed to make a great impression and that after consulting together and laughing mr hobnell said he would send an answer ardor ardor noon school which the bell was ringing and mr wop shot he came out in his master's gown stupid was learned in an academical costume having attended mr foker at saint boniface mr foker went out to see the curiosities of clattering meanwhile but not having a taste for architecture dr portman's fine church did not engage his attention much and he pronounced the tower to be as moldy as an old stilton cheese he walked down the street and looked at the few shops there he saw captain glanders at the window of the reading room and having taken a good stare at that gentleman he wagged his head at him in token of satisfaction he inquired the price of meat at the butchers with an air of the greatest interest and asked when was next killing day he flattened his little nose against madame ribs bees window to see if happily there was a pretty workwoman in her premises but there was no face more cumbling than the dolls or dummy wearing the french cap in the window only that of madame ribs bee herself dimly visible in the parlor reading a novel that object was not of sufficient interest to keep mr foker very long in contemplation and so having exhausted the town and the end stables in which there were no cattle save the single old pair of posters that earned a scanty livelihood by transporting the gentry roundabout to the county dinners mr foker was giving himself up to ennui entirely when a messenger from mr hobnall was at length announced he was no other than mr wop shot himself who came with an air of great indignation and holding pens missive in his hand asked mr foker how dare he bring such an unchristian message as a challenge to a boy of his school in fact pen had written a note to his adversary of the day before telling him that if after the chastisement which is insolence richly deserved he felt inclined to ask the reparation which was usually given amongst gentlemen mr arthur pendennis's friend mr henry foker was empowered to make any arrangements for the satisfaction of mr hobnall and so he sent you with the answer did he sir mr foker said surveying the school master in his black coat and clerical costume if he had accepted this wicked challenge i should have flogged him mr wop shot said and gave mr foker a glance which seemed to say and i should like very much to flog you too uncommon kind of you sir i'm sure said pens emissary i told my principal that i didn't think the other man would fight he continued with a great air of dignity he prefers being flogged to fighting sir i dare say may i offer you any refreshment mr i haven't the advantage of your name my name is wop shot sir and i am master of the grammar school of this town sir cried the other and i want no refreshment sir i thank you and i have no desire to make your acquaintance sir i didn't seek yours sir i'm sure replied mr foker in affairs of this sort you see i think it is a pity that the clergy should be called in but there's no accounting for taste sir i think it's a pity that boys should talk about committing murder sir as lightly as you do reward the school master and if i had you in my school i dare say you would teach me better sir mr foker said with a bow thank you sir i finished my education sir and ain't a going back to school sir when i do i'll remember your kind offer sir john show this gentleman downstairs and of course as mr hobno likes being thrashed we can have no objections sir and we shall be very happy to accommodate him whenever he comes our way and with this the young fellow bowed the elder gentleman out of the room and sat down and wrote a note off to penn in which he informed the letter that mr hobno was not disposed to fight and proposed to put up with the canning which penn had administered to him end of chapter 15 chapter 16 of the history of penn denis this is a liber vox recording all liber vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit liber vox.org the history of penn denis by william make peace thackery chapter 16 more storms in the puddle penn's conduct in this business of course was soon made public and angered his friend dr portman not a little while it only amused major penn denis as for the good mrs penn denis she was almost distracted when she heard of the squabble and of penn's un christian behavior all sorts of rigidness discomfort crime annoyance seemed to come out of this transaction in which the luckless boy had engaged and she longed more than ever to see him out of chatters for a while anywhere removed from the woman who had brought him into so much trouble penn when remonstrated with by this fond parent and angrily rebuked by the doctor for his violence and ferocious intentions took the matter of grand sirio with the happy conceit and gravity of youth said that he himself was very sorry for the affair that the insult had come upon him without the slightest provocation on his part that he would permit no man to insult him upon this head without vindicating his own honor and appealing with great dignity to his uncle asked whether he could have acted otherwise as a gentleman then as he did in resenting the outrage offered to him and in offering satisfaction to the person chastised said the uncle rather puzzled for he had been indoctrinating his nephew with some of his own notions upon the point of honor old world notions savoring of the camp and pistol a great deal more than our sober opinions of the present day between men of the world i don't say but between two schoolboys this sort of thing is ridiculous my dear boy perfectly ridiculous it is extremely wicked and unlike my son said mrs. pendennis with tears in her eyes and bewildered by the obstinacy of the boy penn kistern said with great pomposity women dear mother don't understand these matters i put myself into fokker's hands i had no other course to pursue major pendennis grinned and shrugged his shoulders the young ones were certainly making great progress he thought mrs. pendennis declared that that fokker was a wicked horrid little wretch and was sure that he would lead her dear boy into mischief if pen went to the same college with him i have a great mind not to let him go at all she said and only that she remembered that the lads father had always destined him for the college in which he had had his own brief education very likely the fond mother would have put a veto upon him going to the university that he was to go and at the next october term had been arranged between all the authorities who presided over the lads welfare fokker had promised to introduce him to the right set and major pendennis laid great store upon penn's introduction into college life and society by this admirable young gentleman mr. fokker knows the very best young men now at the university the major said and penn will form acquaintances there who will be of the greatest advantage through life to him the young marquis of plin lemon is there elder son of the duke of st. david's lord magnus charters is there lord run amied son and a first cousin of mr. foker lady run amied my dear was lady agatha melton you of course remember lady agnes will certainly invite him to logwood and far from being alarmed at his intimacy with her son who is a singular and humorous but most prudent and amiable young man to whom i am sure we are under every obligation for his admirable conduct in the affair with the fathering gay marriage i look upon it as one of the very luckiest things which could have happened to penn that he should have formed an intimacy with this most amusing young gentleman hell inside and suppose the major new best mr. foker had been very kind in the wretched business with miss costigan certainly and she was grateful to him but she could not feel otherwise than a dim presentiment of eel and all these quarrels and riot and world nina scared her about the fate of her boy dr. portman was decidedly of opinion that pen should go to college he hoped the lad would read and have a moderate indulgence of the best society too he was of opinion that pen would distinguish himself smerk spoke very highly of his proficiency the doctor himself had heard him construe and thought he acquitted himself remarkably well that he should go out of chatterous was a great point at any rate and pen who was distracted from his private grief by the various rows and troubles which had risen round about him gloomily said he would obey there are sizes races and the entertainments and the flux of company consequent upon them at chatterous during a part of the months of august and september and miss fathering gay still continued to act and take farewell of the audience at the chatterous theater during that time nobody seemed to be particularly affected by her presence or her announced departure except those persons whom we have named nor could the polite country folks who had houses in london and very likely admired the fathering gay prodigiously in the capital when they had been taught to do so by the fashion which set in in her favor find anything remarkable in the actress performing on the little chatterous boards many genius and many a quack for that matter has met with a similar fate before and since miss costigan's time this honest woman meanwhile bore up against the public neglect and any other crosses or vexations which she might have in life with her usual equanimity and ate drank acted slept with that regularity and comfort which belongs to people of her temperament what a deal of grief care and other harmful excitements does a healthy dullness and cheerful insensibility avoid nor do i mean to say that virtue is not virtue because it is never tempted to go astray only that dullness is a much finer gift than we give it credit for being and that some people are very lucky whom nature has endowed with a good store of that great anodyne pennies to go drearily in and out of the play at chatterous during this season and pretty much according to his fancy his proceedings tortured his mother not a little and her anxiety would have led her often to interfere had not the major constantly checked and at the same time encouraged her for the wily man of the world fancied he saw that a favourable turn had occurred in penn's melody it was the violent efflux of versification among other symptoms which gave penn's guardian and physician satisfaction he might be heard spouting verses in the shrubbery walks or muttering them between his teeth as he sat with the home party of evenings one day prowling about the house in penn's absence the major found a great book full of verses in the lad's study they were in english and in latin quotations from the classic authors were given in the scholastic manner in the footnote he can't be very bad wisely thought the polemol philosopher and he made penn's mother remark not perhaps without a secret feeling of disappointment for she loved romance like other soft women that the young gentleman during the last fortnight came home quite hungry to dinner at night and also showed a very decent appetite at the breakfast table in the morning god i wish i could said the major thinking ruefully of his dinner pills the boy begins to sleep well depend upon that it was cruel but it was true having no other soul to confide in for he could not speak to his mother of his loves and disappointments his uncle treated them in a scornful and worldly tone which though carefully guarded and polite yet jarred greatly on the feelings of mr penn and focal was much too coarse to appreciate those refined sentimental secrets the lads friendship for the cure it redoubled or rather he was never tired of having smirk for a listener on that one subject what is a love without a confidant penn employed mr smirk as corrodin does the elm tree to cut out his mistresses name upon he made him echo with the name of the beautiful amaryllis when men have left off playing the tune they do not care much for the pipe but penn thought he had a great friendship for smirk because he could sigh out his loves and groups into his tutors ears and smirk had his own reasons for always being ready at the lads call penn's affection gushed out in a multitude of sonnets to the friend of his heart as he styled the cure it which the other received with great sympathy he plied smirk with latin sapphix and alcax the love songs multiplied under his fluent penn and smirk declared and believed that they were beautiful on the other hand penn expressed a boundless gratitude to think that heaven should have sent him such a friend at such a moment he presented his tutor with his best bound books and his gold guard chain and wanted him to take his double-barrelled gun he went into chatters and got a gold pencil case on credit for he had no money and indeed was still in debt to smirk for some of the fathering gay presence which he presented to smirk with an inscription indicative of his unalterable and eternal regard for the cure it who of course was pleased with every mark of the boys attachment the poor cure it was naturally very much dismayed at the contemplated departure of his pupil when Arthur should go smirk's occupation and delight would go to what pretext could he find for a daily visit to pharox and that kind word or glance from the lady there which was as necessary to the cure it as the frugal dinner which madam frisbee served him after gone he would only be allowed to make visits like any other acquaintance little aura could not accommodate him by learning the catechism more than once a week he had curled himself like ivy around pharox he pined at the thought that he must lose his hold of the place should he speak his mind and go down on his knees to the widow he thought over any indications in her behavior which flattered his hopes she had praised his sermons three weeks before she had thanked him exceedingly for his presence of a melon for a small dinner party which mrs. pendennis gave she said she should always be grateful to him for his kindness to Arthur and when he declared that there were no bounds to his love and affection for that dear boy she had certainly replied in a romantic manner indicating her own strong gratitude in regard to all her son's friends should he speak out or should he delay if he spoke and she refused him it was awful to think that the gate of pharox might be shut upon him forever and within that door lay all the world for mr smirk thus all friendly readers we see how every man in the world has his own private griefs and business by which he is more cast down or occupied than by the affairs or sorrows of any other person while mrs. pendennis is disquieting herself about losing her son and that anxious hold she has had of him as long as he has remained in the mother's nest whence he is about to take flight into the great world beyond while the majors great soul chafes and frets inwardly vexed as he thinks what great parties are going on in london and that he might be sunning himself in the glances of dukes and duchesses but for those cursed affairs which keep him in a wretched little country hole while pen is tossing between his passion and a more agreeable sensation unacknowledged yet but swaying him considerably namely his longing to see the world mr smirk has a private care watching at his bedside and sitting behind him on his pony and is no more satisfied than the rest of us how lonely we are in the world how selfish and secret everybody you and your wife have pressed the same pillow for forty years and fancy yourselves united for sure does she cry out when you have the gout or do you lie awake when she has the toothache your artless daughter seemingly all innocence and devoted to her mama and her piano lessons is thinking of neither but of the young lieutenant with whom she danced at the last ball the honest frank boy just returned from school is secretly speculating about the money you will give him and the debts he owes the tart man the old grandmother crooning in the corner and bound to another world within a few months has some business or cares which are quite private and her own very likely she's thinking of fifty years back and that night when she made such an impression and danced a catillion with the captain before your father proposed for her or what a silly little overrated creature your wife is or how absurdly you are infatuated about her and as for your wife oh philosophic reader answer and say do you tell her all ah sir a distinct universe walks about under your hat and undermine all things in nature are different to each the woman we look at has not the same features the dish we eat has not the same taste to the one and the other you and I are but a pair of finite isolations with some fellow islands a little more or less near to us let us return however to the solitary smirk smirk had one confidant for his passion that most injudicious woman madame frisbee how she became madams frisbee nobody knows she had left clustering to go to a mill and as in london as miss frisbee she pretended that she had got the rank in paris during her residence in that city but how could the french king were he ever so much disposed give her any such title we shall not inquire into this mystery however suffice to say she went away from home a bouncing young lass she returned a rather elderly character with a Madonna front and a melancholy countenance bought the late mrs harbottles business for a song took her elderly mother to live with her was very good to the poor was constant at church and had the best of characters but there was no one in all clustering not mrs portman herself who read so many novels as madame frisbee she had plenty of time for this amusement for in truth very few people besides the folks at the rectory and pharox employed her and by a perpetual perusal of such works which were by no means so moral or edifying in the days of which we write as they are at present she had got to be so absurdly sentimental that in her eyes life was nothing but an immense love match and she never could see two people together but she fancied they were dying for one another on the day after mrs pendennis's visit to the curate which we have recorded many pages back madame frisbee settled in her mind that mr smirk must be in love with the widow and did everything in her power to encourage this passion on both sides mrs pendennis she very seldom saw indeed except in public and in her pure church that lady had very little need of millinery or made most of her own dresses and caps but on the rare occasions when madame frisbee received visitors from mrs pendennis or paid her respects at pharox she never failed to entertain the widow with praises of the curate pointing out what an angelical man he was how gentle how studious how lonely and she would wonder that no lady would take pity upon him helen laughed at these sentimental remarks and wondered that madame herself did not compassionate her lodger and console him madame frisbee shook her Madonna front mon core a boco so fair she said laying her hand on the part she designated as her core madame she said with a sigh she was proud of her intimacy with the french language and spoke it with more volubility than correctness mrs pendennis did not care to penetrate the secrets of this wounded heart except to her few intimates she was a reserved and it may be a very proud woman she looked upon her son's tutor merely as an attendant on that young prince to be treated with respect as a clergyman certainly but with proper dignity as a dependent on the house of pendennis nor were madame's constant allusions to the curate particularly agreeable to her it required a very ingenious sentimental turn indeed to find out that the widow had a secret regard for mr smirk to which pernicious error however madame frisbee persisted in holding her lodger was very much more willing to talk on this subject with his soft-hearted landlady every time after she praised the curate to mrs pendennis she came away from the latter with the notion that the widow herself had been praising him etrus soul or mourned espienne uriang she would say glancing up at a print of a french carboneer in a green coat and brass which decorated her apartment depend upon it when master pendennis goes to college his mom will find herself very lonely she's quite young yet you wouldn't suppose her to be five in 20 mr lecourie he softly blushed he sighed he hoped he feared he doubted he sometimes yielded to the delightful idea his pleasure was to sit in madame frisbee's apartment and talk upon the subject where as the greater part of the conversation was carried on in french by the milliner and her old mother was deaf that retired old individual who had once been a housekeeper wife in widow of a butler in the clavaring family could understand scarce one syllable of their talk thus it was that when major pendennis announced to cheer his nephew's tutor that the young fellow would go to college in october and that mr smirk's valuable services would no longer be needful to his pupil for which service is the major who spoke as grandly as a lord professed himself exceedingly grateful and besought mr smirk to command his interests in any way thus it was that the curate felt that the critical moment was come for him and was wracked and tortured by the severe pangs which the occasion warranted madame frisbee had of course taken the strongest interest in the progress of mr penn's love affair with misfothering gay she had been over to chatters and having seen that actress perform had pronounced that she was old and overrated and had talked over master penn's passion in her shop many and many a time to the half dozen old maids and old women in male clothes who are to be found in little country towns and who formed the genteel population of clavaring captain glander's hp had pronounced that penn was going to be a devil of a fellow and had begun early mrs glander's had told him to check his horrid observations and to respect his own wife if he pleased she said it would be a lesson to helen for her pride and absurd infatuation about that boy mrs piber's said many people were proud of very small things and for her part she didn't know why an apocrythre's wife should give herself such ears mrs wapshot called her daughters away from that side of the street one day when penn on rebecca was stopping at the saddlers to get a new lash to his whip one and all of these people had made visits of curiosity to fair oaks and had tried to condole with the widow or bring the subject of the fathering gay affair to the tapas and had been severely checked by the haughty reserve of mrs penn denis supported by the frigid politeness of the major her brother these rebuffs however did not put an end to the gossip and slander went on increasing about the unlucky fair oaks family glander's hp a retired cavalry officer whose half pay in large family compelled him to fuddle himself with brandy and water instead of claret after he quitted the degoons had the occasional entree at fair oaks and kept his friend the major there informed of all the stories which were current and clattering mrs piber's had taken an inside place by the coach to chatter us and gone to the george on purpose to get the particulars mrs piers's man had treated mr. focus servant to drink at baymouth for a similar purpose it was said that penn had hanged himself for despair in the orchard and that his uncle had cut him down that on the contrary it was miss costigan who was jilted and not young Arthur and that the affair had only been hushed up by the payment of a large sum of money the exact amount of which there were several people in clattering could testify the sum of course varying according to the calculation of the individual narrator of the story penn shook his main and raged like a furious lion when these scandals affecting miss costigan's honor and his own came to his ears why was not piber some man she had whiskers enough that he might call her out and shoot her seeing simcoe pass by penn glared at him so from his saddle on rebecca and clutched his whip in a manner so menacing that that clergyman went home and wrote a sermon or thought over a sermon for he delivered oral testimony at great length in which he spoke of jezebel theatrical entertainment a double cut this for dr. portman the rector of the old church was known to frequent such and of youth going to perdition in a manner which made it clear to every capacity that penn was the individual meant and on the road alluded to what stories more were there not against young penn dennis whilst he sat sulking achilles like in his tent for the loss of his ravished brusseis after the affair with hobnall penn was pronounced to be a murderer as well as a profligate and his name became a name of terror and a byroding clattering but this was not all he was not the only one of the family about whom the village began to chatter and his unlucky mother was the next to become a victim and to their gossip it is all settled said mrs. pibus to mrs. spears the boy is to go to college and then the widow is to console herself he's been there every day in the most open manner my dear continuing mrs. spears enough to make poor mr. penn dennis turn in his grave said mrs. whapshot she never liked him that we know said number one married him for his money everybody knows that was a penniless hanging around of lady ponte pools said number two it's rather too open though to encourage a lover under pretense of having a tutor for your son cried number three hush here comes mrs. portman someone said as the good rector's wife entered madam fripsby's shop to inspect her monthly book of fashions just arrived from london and the fact is that madam fripsby had been able to hold out no longer and one day after she and her lodger had been talking of penn's approaching departure and the curate had gone off to give one of his last lessons to that gentleman madam fripsby had communicated to mrs. pibus who happened to step in with mrs. spears her strong suspicion her certainty almost that there was an attachment between a certain clerical gentleman and a certain lady whose naughty son was growing quite unmanageable and that a certain marriage would take place pretty soon mrs. portman saw it all of course when the matter was mentioned what a sly fox that cure it was he was low church and she never liked him and to think of mrs. pendennis taking a fancy to him after she had been married to such a man as mr. pendennis she could hardly stay five minutes at madam fripsby's so eager was she to run to the rectory and give dr. portman the news when dr. portman heard this piece of intelligence he was in such a rage with his cure it that his first movement was to break with mr. smirk and to beg him to transfer his services to some other parish that milk's up of a creature pretend to be worthy of such a woman as mrs. pendennis broke out the doctor where will impudence stop next she is much too old for mr. smirk mrs. portman remarked why poor dear mrs. pendennis might be his mother almost you always choose the most charitable reason betsey cried the rector a matron with her son grown up she would never think of marrying again you only think men should marry again dr. portman answered his lady bridling up you stupid old woman said the doctor when i am gone you shall marry whomever you like i will leave orders in my will my dear to that effect and i'll bequeath a ring to my successor and my ghost shall come and dance at your wedding it is cruel for a clergyman to talk so the lady answered where they were ready whimper but these little breezes used to pass very rapidly over the surface of the doctor's domestic bliss and were followed by a great calm and sunshine the doctor adopted a plan pursuing mrs. portman's ruffled countenance which has a great effect when it is tried between a worthy couple who are sincerely fond of one another and which i think becomes john anderson at three score just as much as it used to do when he was a black haired young joe of five and twenty hadn't you better talk to mr smirk john mrs. portman asked when pen goes to college caddied questio replied the rector smirks visits at ferricks will cease of themselves and there will be no need to bother the widow she has trouble enough on her hands with the affairs of that silly young scape grace without being pestered by the tittle-tattle of this place it is all an invention of that full fripsby against whom i always warned you you know i did my dear john interpose mrs. portman that you did you very often do my love the doctor answered with a laugh it is not for want of warning on your part i am sure that i have formed my opinion of most women with whom we are acquainted madam fripsby is a fool and fond of gossip and so are some other folks but she is good to the poor she takes care of her mother and she comes to church twice every sunday and as for smirk my dear for one moment a comical expression which mrs. portman did not perceive for she was looking out of the drawing room window and wondering what mrs. pibus could want cheapening fowls again in the market when she had bad paltry from livermore two days before and as for mr smirk my dear bedsy you will promise me that you will never breathe to any mortal what i am going to tell you as a profound secret what is it my dear john of course i won't answered the rector's lady well then i cannot say it is a fact mind but if you find that smirk is at this moment i and has been for years engaged to a young lady a miss a miss tomson if you will have the name who lives in clapham common yes on clapham common not far from mrs smirk's house what becomes of your story then about smirk and mrs pendennis why did you not tell me this before asked the doctor's wife how long have you known it how we all of us have been deceived in that man why should i meddle in other folks's business my dear the doctor answered i know how to keep a secret and perhaps this is only an invention like that other upset story at least madam portman i should never have told you this but for the other which i beg you to contradict whenever you hear it and so saying the doctor went away to his study and mrs portman seeing that the day was a remarkably fine one thought she would take advantage of the weather and pay a few visits the doctor looking out of his study window saw the wife of his bosom presently issue fourth a tired in her best she crossed the marketplace saluting the market women right and left and giving a glance at the grocery in general emporium at the corner then entering london street formally hog laying she stopped for a minute at madam fripsby's window and looking at the fashions which hung up there seemed hesitating whether she should enter but she passed on and never stopped again until she came to mrs piebus's little green gate and garden through which she went to that lady's cottage there of course her husband lost sight of mrs portman oh what a longbow i have pulled he said inwardly goodness forgive me and shot my own flesh and blood there must be no more tattling and scandal about that house i must stop it and speak to smirk i'll ask him to dinner this very day having a sermon to compose the doctor sat down to that work and was so engaged in the composition that he had not concluded it until near five o'clock in the afternoon when he stepped over to mr smirk's lodgings to put his hospitable intentions regarding that gentleman into effect he reached madam fripsby's door just as the curate issued from it mr smirk was magnificently dressed and as he turned out his toes he showed a pair of elegant openworked silk stockings and glossy pumps his white cravat was arranged in a slendered stiff tie and his gold shirt studs shone on his spotless linen his hair was curled round his fair temples had he borrowed madam frispy's irons to give that curly grace his white cambrick pocket handkerchief was centered with the most delicious urda cologne oh graceless poor cried the doctor whether are you bound i wanted you to come home to dinner i am engaged to dine at at ferrokes blushing faintly and whisking the centered pocket handkerchief and his pony being and waiting he mounted and rode away simpering down the street no accident befell him that day and he arrived with his tie in the very best order at mrs pendennis's house end of chapter 16