'Mr. Warrington has been long-engaged,' Laura said, dropping her eyes.

'Nonsense, child! And good heavens, my dear! that's a pretty diamond cross. What do you mean by wearing it in the morning?'

6

Arthur-my brother, gave it me just now. It was-it was -She could not finish the sentence. The carriage passed over the bridge, and by the dear, dear gate of Fairoaks-home no more.

CHAPTER LVIII

OLD FRIENDS

IT chanced at that great English festival, at which all London takes a holiday upon Epsom Downs, that a great number of the personages to whom we have been introduced in the course of this history were assembled to see the Derby. In a comfortable open carriage, which had been brought to the ground by a pair of horses, might be seen Mrs. Bungay, of Paternoster Row, attired like Solomon in all his glory, and having by her side modest Mrs. Shandon, for whom, since the commencement of their acquaintance, the worthy publisher's lady had maintained a steady friendship. Bungay, having recreated himself with a copious luncheon, was madly shying at the sticks hard by, till the perspiration ran off his bald pate. Shandon was shambling about among the drinking-tents and gipsies: Finucane constant in attendance on the two ladies, to whom gentlemen of their acquaintance, and connected with the publishing-house, came up to pay a visit.

Among others, Mr. Archer came up to make her his bow, and told Mrs. Bungay who was on the course. Yonder was the Prime Minister: his lordship had just told him to back Borax for the race; but Archer thought Muffineer the better horse. He pointed out countless dukes and grandees to the delighted Mrs. Bungay. Look yonder in the Grand Stand,' he said. 'There sits the Chinese ambassador with

6

the mandarins of his suite. Fou-choo-foo brought me over letters of introduction from the Governor-General of India, my most intimate friend, and I was for some time very kind to him, and he had his chopsticks laid for him at my table whenever he chose to come and dine. But he brought his own cook with him, and-would you believe it, Mrs. Bungay ?-one day, when I was out, and the ambassador was with Mrs. Archer in our garden eating gooseberries, of which the Chinese are passionately fond, the beast of a cook, seeing my wife's dear little Blenheim spaniel (that we had from the Duke of Marlborough himself, whose ancestor's life Mrs. Archer's great-great-grandfather saved at the battle of Malplaquet), seized upon the poor little devil, cut his throat, and skinned him, and served him up stuffed with forced meat in the second course.'

'Law!' said Mrs. Bungay.

'You may fancy my wife's agony when she knew what had happened! The cook came screaming upstairs, and told us that she had found poor Fido's skin in the area, just after we had all of us tasted of the dish! She never would speak to the ambassador again-never; and, upon my word, he has never been to dine with us since. The Lord Mayor, who did me the honour to dine, liked the dish very much; and, eaten with green peas, it tastes rather like duck.' You don't say so, now!' cried the astonished publisher's

6

lady.

Fact, upon my word. Look at that lady in blue, seated by the ambassador: that is Lady Flamingo, and they say she is going to be married to him, and return to Pekin with his Excellency. She is getting her feet squeezed down on purpose. But she'll only cripple herself, and will never be able to do it never. My wife has the smallest foot in England, and wears shoes for a six-years-old child; but what is that to a Chinese lady's foot, Mrs. Bungay?'

'Who is that carriage as Mr. Pendennis is with, Mr. Archer?' Mrs. Bungay presently asked. 'He and Mr. Warrington was here jest now. He's 'aughty in his manners, that Mr. Pendennis, and well he may be, for I'm told he keeps tip-top company. 'As he 'ad a large fortune left him, Mr. Archer? He's in black still, I see.'

Eighteen hundred a year in land, and twenty-two thousand five hundred in the Three-and-a-Half per Cents; that's about it,' said Mr. Archer.

Law! why you know everything, Mr. A. !' cried the lady of Paternoster Row.

I happen to know, because I was called in about poor Mrs. Pendennis's will,' Mr. Archer replied. Pendennis's uncle, the major, seldom does anything without me; and as he's likely to be extravagant we've tied up the property, so that he can't make ducks and drakes with it.-How do you do, my lord ?-Do you know that gentleman, ladies? You have read his speeches in the House; it is Lord Rochester.'

'Lord Fiddlestick,' cried out Finucane, from the box. 'Sure it's Tom Staples, of the Morning Advertiser, Archer.'

Is it? Archer said simply. Well, I'm very shortsighted, and upon my word I thought it was Rochester. That gentleman with the double opera-glass' (another_nod) 'is Lord John; and the tall man with him—don't you know him ?-is Sir James.'

'You know 'em because you see 'em in the House,' growled Finucane.

I know them because they are kind enough to allow me to call them my most intimate friends,' Archer continued. 'Look at the Duke of Hampshire; what a pattern of a fine old English gentleman! He never misses "the Derby." "Archer," he said to me only yesterday, "I have been at sixty-five Derbys! appeared on the field for the first time on a piebald pony when I was seven years old, with my father, the Prince of Wales, and Colonel Hanger; and only missing two races-one when I had the measles at Eton, and one in the Waterloo year, when I was with my friend Wellington in Flanders."

And who is that yellow carriage, with the pink and yellow parasols, that Mr. Pendennis is talking to, and ever so many gentlemen ?' asked Mrs. Bungay.

"That is Lady Clavering, of Clavering Park, next estate to my friend Pendennis. That is the young son and heir upon the box; he's awfully tipsy, the little scamp! and the young lady is Miss Amory, Lady Clavering's daughter by a first marriage, and uncommonly sweet upon my friend Pendennis; but I've reason to think he has his heart fixed elsewhere. You have heard of young Mr. Foker-the great brewer, Foker, you know-he was going to hang himself in consequence of a fatal passion for Miss Amory, who refused

him, but was cut down just in time by his valet, and is now abroad, under a keeper.'

'How happy that young fellow is !' sighed Mrs. Bungay. 'Who'd have thought when he came so quiet and demure to dine with us, three or four years ago, he would turn out such a grand character! Why, I saw his name at Court the other day, and presented by the Marquis of Steyne and all; and in every party of the nobility his name's down as sure as a gun."

'I introduced him a good deal when he first came up to

town,' Mr. Archer said, and his uncle, Major Pendennis, did the rest. Hallo! There's Cobden here, of all men in the world! I must go and speak to him. Good-bye, Mrs. Bungay. Good-morning, Mrs. Shandon.'

An hour previous to this time, and at a different part of the course, there might have been seen an old stage-coach, on the battered roof of which a crowd of shabby raffs were stamping and hallooing, as the great event of the day-the Derby race-rushed over the greensward, and by the shouting millions of people assembled to view that magnificent scene. This was Wheeler's (the Harlequin's Head') drag,

which had brought down a company of choice spirits from Bow Street, with a slap-up luncheon in the boot.' As the whirling race flashed by, each of the choice spirits bellowed out the name of the horse or the colours which he thought or he hoped might be foremost. 'The Cornet!' 'It's

Muffineer!' It's blue sleeves!' Yallow cap! yallow cap! yallow cap!' and so forth, yelled the gentlemen sportsmen during that delicious and thrilling minute before the contest was decided; and as the fluttering signal blew out, showing the number of the famous horse Podasokus as winner of the race, one of the gentlemen on the ' Harlequin's Head' drag sprang up off the roof, as if he was a pigeon and about to fly away to London or York with the news.

But his elation did not lift him many inches from his standing-place, to which he came down again on the instant, causing the boards of the crazy old coach-roof to crack with the weight of his joy. Hurray, hurray!' he bawled out, Podasokus is the horse! Supper for ten, Wheeler, my boy. Ask you all round of course, and damn the expense.'

6

And the gentlemen on the carriage, the shabby swaggerers, the dubious bucks, said, 'Thank you-congratulate you, colonel: sup with you with pleasure!' and whispered to one another, 'The colonel stands to win fifteen hundred, and he got the odds from a good man, too.'

And each of the shabby bucks and dusky dandies began to eye his neighbour with suspicion, lest that neighbour, taking his advantage, should get the colonel into a lonely place and borrow money of him. And the winner on Podasokus could not be alone during the whole of that afternoon, so closely did his friends watch him and each other.

At another part of the course you might have seen a vehicle, certainly more modest, if not more shabby than that battered coach which had brought down the choice spirits from the 'Harlequin's Head'; this was cab No. 2,002, which had conveyed a gentleman and two ladies from the cab-stand in the Strand: whereof one of the ladies, as she sat on the box of the cab enjoying with her mamma and their companion a repast of lobster salad and bitter ale, looked so fresh and pretty that many of the splendid young dandies who were strolling about the course, and enjoying themselves at the noble diversion of sticks, and talking to the beautifully-dressed ladies in the beautiful carriages on