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Clear those things off the chair, Pidgeon, and pull it round to the fire."

Pen flung his cigar into the grate; and was pleased with the cordiality with which his uncle shook him. by the hand. As soon as he could speak for the stairs and the smoke, the Major began to ask Pen very kindly about himself and about his mother: for blood is blood, and he was pleased once more to see the boy. Pen gave his news, and then introduced Mr. Warrington an old Boniface man whose chambers he shared.

The Major was quite satisfied when he heard that Mr. Warrington was a younger son of Sir Miles Warrington of Suffolk. He had served with an uncle of his in India and in New South Wales, years ago.

"Took a sheep-farm there, sir, made a fortunebetter thing than law or soldiering," Warrington said. "Think I shall go there, too." And here, the expected beer coming in, in a tankard with a glass bottom, Mr. Warrington, with a laugh, said he supposed the Major would not have any, and took a long, deep draught himself, after which he wiped his wrist across his beard with great satisfaction. The young man was perfectly easy and unembarrassed. He was dressed in a ragged old shooting-jacket, and had a bristly blue beard. He was drinking beer like a coal-heaver, and yet you could n't but perceive that he was a gentleman.

When he had sat for a minute or two after his draught, he went out of the room, leaving it to Pen and his uncle, that they might talk over family affairs were they so inclined.

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Rough and ready your chum seems," the Major said. "Somewhat different from your dandy friends at Oxbridge."

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