Shake hands, Harry; don't look askance at me.
told you that I was a false and heartless character?"
"I think you're a-
when Blanche interposed.

Has anybody

Foker was beginning, in his wrath,

"Henry, not a word!-I pray you let there be forgiveness!" "You're an angel, by Jove, you're an angel!" said Foker, at which Blanche looked seraphically up to the chandelier.

"In spite of what has passed, for the sake of what has passed, I must always regard Arthur as a brother," the seraph continued ; we have known each other years, we have trodden the same fields, and plucked the same flowers together. Arthur! Henry! I beseech you to take hands and to be friends! Forgive you!—I forgive you, Arthur, with my heart I do. Should I not do so for making me so happy?"

"There is only one person of us three whom I pity, Blanche," Arthur said gravely; "and I say to you again, that I hope you will make this good fellow, this honest and loyal creature, happy."

"Happy! O heavens!" said Harry. He could not speak. His happiness gushed out at his eyes. "She don't know-she can't know how fond I am of her, and-and who am I? a poor little beggar, and she takes me up and says she'll try and 1—1—love me. I ain't worthy of so much happiness. Give us your hand, old boy, since she forgives you after your heartless conduct, and says she loves you. I'll make you welcome. I tell you I'll love everybody who loves her. By if she tells me to kiss the ground I'll kiss it.

you so.

Tell me to kiss the ground! I say, tell me. I love You see I love you so."

Blanche looked up seraphically again. Her gentle bosom heaved. She held out one hand as if to bless Harry, and then royally permitted him to kiss it. She took up the pocket-handkerchief and hid her own eyes, as the other fair hand was abandoned to poor Harry's tearful embrace.

"I swear that is a villain who deceives such a loving creature as that," said Pen.

Blanche laid down the handkerchief, and put hand No. 2 softly on Foker's head, which was bent down kissing and weeping over hand No. 1. "Foolish boy," she said, "it shall be loved as it deserves : who could help loving such a silly creature?"

And at this moment Frank Clavering broke in upon the sentimental trio.

"I say, Pendennis," he said.

Well, Frank!"

"The man wants to be paid, and go back.

He's had some

beer"

"I'll go back with him," cried Pen. "Good-bye, Blanche. God bless you, Foker, old friend. You know neither of you wants me here." He longed to be off that instant. "Stay-I must say one word to you. One word in private, if you please," Blanche said. "You can trust us together, can't you-Henry?" The tone in which the word Henry was spoken, and the appeal, ravished Foker with delight. "Trust you!" said he. "Oh, who wouldn't trust you! Come along, Franky, my boy."

"Let's have a cigar," said Frank, as they went into the hall. "She don't like it," said Foker gently.

"Law bless you-she don't mind.

regular," said the candid youth.

Pendennis used to smoke

"It was but a short word I had to say," said Blanche to Pen, with great calm, when they were alone. "You never loved me,

Mr. Pendennis."

you.'

"I told you how much," said Arthur. "I never deceived

"I suppose you will go back and marry Laura," continued Blanche.

"Was that what you had to say?" said Pen.

"You are going to her this very night, I am sure of it. There is no denying it. You never cared for me."

"Et vous?"

"Et moi, c'est différent. I have been spoilt early. I cannot live out of the world, out of excitement. I could have done so, but it is too late. If I cannot have emotions I must have the world. You would offer me neither one nor the other. You are blasé in everything, even in ambition. You had a career before you, and you would not take it. You give it up!--for what?--for a bêtise, for an absurd scruple. Why would you not have that seat, and be such a puritain? Why should you refuse what is mine by right by right, entendez-vous ?"

"You know all, then?" said Pen.

"Only within a month. But I have suspected ever since Baymouth-n'importe since when. It is not too late.

He is as

if he had never been; and there is a position in the world before you yet. Why not sit in Parliament, exert your talent, and give a place in the world to yourself, to your wife? I take celui-là. Il est bon. Il est riche. Il est -vous le connaissez autant que moi, enfin. Think you that I would not prefer un homme qui fera ¡ parler de moi? If the secret appears, I am rich à millions. How does it affect me? It is not my fault. It will never appear."

"You will tell Harry everything, won't you?"

"Je comprends. Vous refusez," said Blanche savagely. "I will tell Harry at my own time, when we are married. You will not betray me, will you? You, having a defenceless girl's secret, will not turn upon her and use it? S'il me plait de le cacher, mon secret; pourquoi le donnerai-je ? Je l'aime, mon pauvre père, voyez-vous? I would rather live with that man than with you fades intriguers of the world. I must have emotions-il m'en donne. Il m'écrit. Il écrit très-bien, voyez-vous- -comme un pirate-comme un Bohémien comme un homme. But for this

I would have said to my mother-Ma mère ! quittons ce lâche mari, cette lâche société retournons à mon père.”

"The pirate would have wearied you like the rest," said Pen.

"Eh! Il me faut des émotions," said Blanche. Pen had never seen her or known so much about her in all the years of their intimacy as he saw and knew now: though he saw more than existed in reality. For this young lady was not able to carry out any emotion to the full; but had a sham enthusiasm, a sham hatred, a sham love, a sham taste, a sham grief, each of which flared and shone very vehemently for an instant, but subsided and gave place to the next sham emotion.

U

CHAPTER LXXIV

A CHAPTER OF MATCH-MAKING

PON the platform at Tunbridge, Pen fumed and fretted until the arrival of the evening train to London, a full half-hour, -six hours it seemed to him; but even this immense interval was passed, the train arrived, the train sped on, the London lights came in view-a gentleman who forgot his carpetbag in the train rushed at a cab, and said to the man, "Drive as hard as you can go to Jermyn Street." The cabman, although a hansom cabman, said "Thank you" for the gratuity which was put into his hand, and Pen ran up the stairs of the hotel to Lady Rockminster's apartments. Laura was alone in the drawing-room, reading, with a pale face, by the lamp. The pale face looked up when Pen opened the door. May we follow him? The great moments of life are but moments like the others. Your doom is spoken in a word or two. A single look from the eyes; a mere pressure of the hand, may decide it; or of the lips, though they cannot speak.

When Lady Rockminster, who has had her after-dinner nap, gets up and goes into her sitting-room, we may enter with her Ladyship.

"Upon my word, young people!" are the first words she says, and her attendant makes wondering eyes over her shoulder. And well may she say so; and well may the attendant cast wondering eyes; for the young people are in an attitude; and Pen in such a position as every young lady who reads this has heard tell of, or has seen, or hopes, or at any rate deserves to see.

In a word, directly he entered the room, Pen went up to Laura of the pale face, who had not time even to say, "What, back so soon?" and seizing her outstretched and trembling hand just as she was rising from her chair, fell down on his knees before her, and said quickly, “I have seen her. She has engaged herself to Harry Foker-and-and Now, Laura?”

The hand gives a pressure-the eyes beam a reply the quivering lips answer, though speechless. Pen's head sinks down in the girl's lap, as he sobs out, "Come and bless us, dear mother!" and arms as tender as Helen's once more enfold him.

66

In this juncture it is that Lady Rockminster comes in and says, Upon my word, young people! Beck! leave the room. What do you want poking your nose in here?"

Pen starts up with looks of triumph, still holding Laura's hand. "She is consoling me for my misfortune, ma'am," he says.

"What do you mean by kissing her hand? I don't know what you will be next doing."

Pen kissed her Ladyship's. "I have been to Tunbridge," he says, "and seen Miss Amory; and find on my arrival that-that a villain has transplanted me in her affections," he says with a tragedy air.

"Is that all? Is that what you were whimpering on your knees about?" says the old lady, growing angry. "You might have kept the news till to-morrow."

"Yes-another has superseded me," goes on Pen; "but why call him villain? He is brave, he is constant, he is young, he is wealthy, he is beautiful."

"What stuff are you talking, sir?" cried the old lady. has happened?”

"What

"Miss Amory has jilted me, and accepted Henry Foker, Esquire. I found her warbling ditties to him as he lay at her feet; presents had been accepted, vows exchanged, these ten days. Harry was old Mrs. Planter's rheumatism, which kept dearest Laura out of the house. He is the most constant and generous of men. He has promised the living of Logwood to Lady Ann's husband, and given her a splendid present on her marriage; and he rushed to fling himself at Blanche's feet the instant he found he was free."

"And so, as you can't get Blanche, you put up with Laura: is that it, sir?" asked the old lady.

"He acted nobly," Laura said.

"I acted as she bade me," said Pen.

"Never mind how, Lady Rockminster: but to the best of my knowledge and power.

And

if you mean that I am not worthy of Laura, I know it, and pray Heaven to better me; and if the love and company of the best and purest creature in the world can do so, at least I shall have these to help me."

"Hm, hm,” replied the old lady to this, looking with rather an appeased air at the young people. "It is all very well; but I should have preferred Bluebeard.”

And now Pen, to divert the conversation from a theme which was growing painful to some parties present, bethought him of his interview with Huxter in the morning, and of Fanny Bolton's affairs, which he had forgotten under the immediate pressure and