my poor George to prison. He has been the ruin of my family, that man."

"Dev'lish sorry, Mrs. Brixham; pray take a chair. What can I do?"

"Could you not intercede with him for us? George will give half his allowance: my daughter can send something. If you will but stay on, sir, and pay a quarter's rent in advance

"My good madam, I would as soon give you a quarter in advance as not, if I were going to stay in the lodgings. But I can't; and I can't afford to fling away twenty pounds, my good madam. I'm a poor half-pay officer, and want every shilling I have, begad. As far as a few pounds goes say five pounds -I don't say - and shall be most happy, and that sort of thing and I'll give it to you in the morning with pleasure: but-but it's getting late, and I have made a railroad journey."

"God's will be done, sir," said the poor woman, drying her tears. "I must bear my fate."

"And a dev'lish hard one it is, and most sincerely I pity you, Mrs. Brixham. I—I'll say ten pounds, if you will permit me. Good-night."

"Mr. Morgan, sir, when he came down stairs, and when when I besought him to have pity on me, and told him he had been the ruin of my family, said something which I did not well understand - that he would ruin every family in the house—that he knew something would bring you down too and that you should your insolence to him. I

him for your pay

I must own to you, that I went down on my knees

to him, sir; and he said, with a dreadful oath against you, that he would have you on your knees."

"Me? by Gad, that is too pleasant! Where is the confounded fellow ?"

* He went away, sir. He said he should see you in the morning. O pray try and pacify him, and save me and my poor bey." And the widow went away with this prayer to pass her night as she might, and lock for the dreadful morrow.

The last words about himself excited Major Penbennis so much that his compassion for Mrs. Brixhan's masfortunes was quite forgotten in the consuberation of his own case.

Me ca my knees?" thought he, as he got into bed: Herefound his impudence. Who ever saw me on my knees? What the devil does the fellow know? Gud. I've not had an affair these twenty years. I defy him.” And the old campaigner turned round and slept pretty sound, being rather excited and sused by the events of the day-the last day in Bury Street, be was determined it should be. "For in's mpossible to stay on with a valet over me and A bankrupt landlady. What good can I do this poor Set of a win? I'll give her twenty poundthere's Warrington's twenty pound, which he has past pood — but what's the use? She'll want more, and more, and more, and that cormorant Morgan will STÜTE Na dammy, I can't afford to know poor peeple: and tomorrow I'll say good-by-to Mrs. Brixham and M.. Morgan."

CHAPTER XVII.

IN WHICH THE MAJOR NEITHER YIELDS HIS
MONEY NOR HIS LIFE.

EARLY next morning Pendennis's shutters were opened by Morgan, who appeared as usual, with a face perfectly grave and respectful, bearing with him the old gentleman's clothes, cans of water, and elaborate toilet requisites.

"It's you, is it?" said the old fellow from his bed. "I sha'n't take you back again, you understand."

"I 'ave not the least wish to be took back agin, Major Pendennis," Mr. Morgan said, with grave dignity, "nor to serve you nor hany man. But as I wish you to be comf'table as long as you stay in my house, I came up to do what's ne'ssary." And once more, and for the last time, Mr. James Morgan laid out the silver dressing-case, and strapped the shining razor.

These offices concluded, he addressed himself to the Major with an indescribable solemnity, and said: "Thinkin' that you would most likely be in want of a respectable pusson, until you suited yourself, I spoke to a young man last night, who is 'ere."

"Indeed," said the warrior in the tent bed. "He 'ave lived in the fust fam'lies, and I can wouch for his respectability."

"You are monstrous polite," grinned the old Major. And the truth is, that after the occurrences of the pre

vious evening, Morgan had gone out to his own Club at the "Wheel of Fortune," and there finding Frosch, a courier and valet just returned from a foreign tour with young Lord Cubley, and for the present disposable, had represented to Mr. Frosch, that he, Morgan, had had "a devil of a blow hup with his own Gov'nor, and was goin' to retire from the business haltogether, and that if Frosch wanted a tempo'ry job, he might prob❜bly have it by applying in Bury Street."

"You are very polite," said the Major, "and your recommendation, I am sure, will have every weight."

Morgan blushed; he felt his master was "a chaffin' of him." "The man have awaited on you before, sir," he said with great dignity. "Lord de la Pole, sir, gave him to his nephew young Lord Cubley, and he have been with him on his foring tour, and not wishing to go to Fitzurse Castle, which Frosch's chest is delicate, and he cannot bear the cold in Scotland, he is free to serve you or not, as you choose."

"I repeat, sir, that you are exceedingly polite," said the Major. "Come in, Frosch-you will do very well Mr. Morgan, will you have the great kindness to

"I shall show him what is ne'ssary, sir, and what is custom'ry for you to wish to 'ave done. Will you please to take breakfast 'ere or at the Club, Major Pendennis?"

"With your kind permission, I will breakfast here, and afterwards we will make our little arrangements."

"If you please, sir."

"Will you now oblige me by leaving the room?"

Morgan withdrew; the excessive politeness of his ex-employer made him almost as angry as the Major's bitterest words. And whilst the old gentleman is

making his mysterious toilet, we will also modestly retire.

After breakfast, Major Pendennis and his new aidede-camp occupied themselves in preparing for their departure. The establishment of the old bachelor was not very complicated. He encumbered himself with. no useless wardrobe. A Bible (his mother's), a roadbook, Pen's novel (calf elegant), and the Duke of Wellington's Despatches, with a few prints, maps, and portraits of that illustrious general, and of various sovereigns and consorts of this country, and of the General under whom Major Pendennis had served in India, formed his literary and artistical collection: he was always ready to march at a few hours' notice, and the cases in which he had brought his property into his lodgings some fifteen years before, were still in the lofts amply sufficient to receive all his goods. These, the young woman who did the work of the house, and who was known by the name of Betty to her mistress, and of Slavey to Mr. Morgan, brought down from their resting-place, and obediently dusted and cleaned under the eyes of the terrible Morgan. His demeanor was guarded and solemn; he had spoken no word as yet to Mrs. Brixham respecting his threats of the past night, but he looked as if he would execute them, and the poor widow tremblingly awaited her fate.

Old Pendennis, armed with his cane, superintended the package of his goods and chattels, under the hands of Mr. Frosch, and the Slavey burned such of his papers as he did not care to keep: flung open doors and closets until they were all empty; and now all boxes and chests were closed, except his desk, which was ready to receive the final accounts of Mr. Morgan.