CHAPTER XXVIII.

IN WHICH PEN BEGINS TO DOUBT ABOUT HIS ELECTION.

HILE Pen, in his own county, was thus
carrying on his selfish plans and parlia-
mentary schemes, news came to him that
Lady Rockminster had arrived at Bay-
mouth, and had brought with her our friend
Laura. At the announcement that Laura
his sister was near him, Pen felt rather
guilty. His wish was to stand higher in
her esteem, perhaps, than in that of any
other person in the world. She was his
mother's legacy to him. He was to be her
patron and protector in some sort. How
would she brave the news which he had
to tell her; and how should he explain the
plans which he was meditating? He felt
as if neither he nor Blanche could bear
Laura's dazzling glance of calm scrutiny,
and as if he would not dare to disclose his
worldly hopes and ambitions to that spotless
judge. At her arrival at Baymouth, he
wrote a letter thither which contained a
great number of fine phrases and protests
of affection, and a great deal of
easy satire
and raillery; in the midst of all which Mr.

Pen could not help feeling that he was in a

panic, and that he was acting like a rogue and hypocrite.

How was it that a single country-girl should be the object of fear and trembling to such an accomplished gentleman as Mr. Pen? His worldly tactics and diplomacy, his satire and knowledge of the world, could not bear the test of her purity, he felt somehow. And he had to own to

himself that his affairs were in such a position, that he could not tell the truth to that honest soul. As he rode from Clavering to Baymouth he felt as guilty as a school-boy, who doesn't know his lesson and is about to face the awful master. For is not truth the master always, and does she not have the power and hold the book?

Under the charge of her kind, though somewhat wayward and absolute, patroness, Lady Rockminster, Laura had seen somewhat of the world in the last year, had gathered some accomplishments, and profited

by the lessons of society. Many a girl who had been accustomed to that too great tenderness in which Laura's early life had been passed, would have been unfitted for the changed existence which she now had to lead. Helen worshiped her two children, and thought, as home-bred women will, that all the world was made for them, or to be considered after them. She tended Laura with a watchfulness of affection which never left her. If she had a headache, the widow was as alarmed as if there had never been an aching head before in the world. She slept and woke, read, and moved under her mother's fond superintendence, which was now withdrawn from her, along with the tender creature whose anxious heart would beat no more. And painful moments of grief and depression no doubt Laura had, when she stood in the great careless world alone. Nobody heeded her griefs or her solitude. She was not quite the equal, in social rank, of the lady whose companion she was, or of the friends and relatives of the imperious, but kind old dowager.

Some, very likely, bore her no good-will-some, perhaps, slighted her : it might have been that servants were occasionally rude; their mistress certainly was often. Laura not seldom found herself in family meetings, the confidence and familiarity of which she felt were interrupted by her intrusion; and her sensitiveness of course was wounded at the idea that she should give or feel this annoyance. How many governesses are there in the world, thought cheerful Laura-how many ladies, whose necessities make them slaves and companions by profession! What bad tempers and coarse unkindness have not these to encounter! How infinitely better my lot is with these really kind and affectionate people than that of thousands of unprotected girls! It was with this cordial spirit that our young lady adapted herself to her new position; and went in advance of her fortune with a trustful smile.

Did you ever know a person who met Fortune in that way, whom the goddess did not regard kindly? Are not even bad people won by a constant cheerfulness and a pure and affectionate heart? When the babes in the wood, in the ballad, looked up fondly and trustfully at those notorious rogues whom their uncle had set to make away with the little folks, we all know how one of the rascals relented, and made away with the other-not having the heart to be unkind to so much innocence and beauty. Oh happy they who have that virgin, loving trust and sweet smiling confidence in the world, and fear no evil because they think none! Miss Laura Bell was one of these fortunate persons; and besides the gentle widow's little cross, which, as we have seen, Pen gave her, had such asparkling and brilliant koh-i-noor in her bosom, as is even more precious than that famous jewel; for it not only fetches a price, and is retained by its owner in anothor world where diamonds are stated to be of no value, but here, too, is of inestimable worth to its possessor; is a talisman against evil, and lightens up the darkness of life, like Cogia Hassan's famous stone.

So that before Miss Bell had been a year in Lady Rockminster's house, there was not a single person in it whose love she had not won by the use of this talisman. From the old lady to the lowest

dependent of her bounty, Laura had secured the good-will and kindness of every body. With a mistress of such a temper, my lady's woman (who had endured her mistress for forty years, and had been clawed and scolded and jibed every day and night in that space of time), could not be expected to have a good temper of her own; and was at first angry against Miss Laura, as she had been against her ladyship's fifteen preceding companions. But when Laura was ill at Paris, this old woman nursed her in spite of her mistress, who was afraid of catching the fever, and absolutely fought for her medicine with Martha from Fairoaks, now advanced to be Miss Laura's own maid. As she was recovering, Grandjean the chef wanted to kill her by the numbers of delicacies which he dressed for her, and wept when she ate her first slice of chicken. The Swiss major-domo of the house celebrated Miss Bell's praises in almost every European language, which he spoke with indifferent incorrectness; the coachman was happy to drive her out; the page cried when he heard she was ill; and Calverley and Coldstream (those two footmen, so large, so calm ordinarily, and so difficult to move), broke out into extraordinary hilarity at the news of her convalescence, and intoxicated the page at a wine shop, to fête Laura's recovery. Even Lady Diana Pynsent (our former acquaintance Mr. Pynsent had married by this time), Lady Diana, who had had a considerable dislike to Laura for some time, was so enthusiastic as to say that she thought Miss Bell was a very agreeable person, and that grandmamma had found a great trouvaille in her. All this good-will and kindness Laura had acquired, not by any arts, not by any flattery, but by the simple force of good-nature, and by the blessed gift of pleasing and being pleased.

On the one or two occasions when he had seen Lady Rockminster, the old lady, who did not admire him, had been very pitiless and abrupt with our young friend, and perhaps Pen expected when he came to Baymouth to find Laura installed in her house in the quality of humble companion, and treated no better than himself. When she heard of his arrival she came running down stairs, and I am not sure that she did not embrace him in the presence of Calverley and Coldstream: not that those gentleman ever told if the fractus orbis had come to a smash, if Laura, instead of kissing Pen, had taken her scissors and snipped off his head-Calverly and Coldstream would have looked on impavidly, without allowing a grain of powder to be disturbed by the calamity.

Laura had so much improved in health and looks that Pen could not but admire her. The frank and kind eyes which met his, beamed with good health; the cheek which he kissed blushed with beauty. As he looked at her, artless and graceful, pure and candid, he thought he had never seen her so beautiful. Why should he remark her beauty now so much, and remark too to himself that he had not remarked it sooner ? He took her fair trustful hand and kissed it fondly: he looked in her bright clear eyes, and read in them that kindling welcome which he was always sure to find there. He was affected and touched by the

tender tone and the pure sparkling glance; their innocence smote him somehow and moved him.

'How good you are to me, Laura-sister!" said Pen, "I don't deserve that you should-that you should be so kind to me.

Mamma left you to me," she said, stooping down and brushing his forehead with her lips hastily. "You know you were to come to me when you were in trouble, or to tell me when you were very happy: that was our compact, Arthur, last year, before we parted. Are you very happy now, or are you in trouble, which is it?" and she looked at him with an arch glance of kindness. Do you like going into Parliament? Do you intend to distinguish yourself there? How I shall tremble for your first speech!"

Do you know about the Parliament plan, then?" Pen asked. "Know ?-all the world knows! I have heard it talked about many times. Lady Rockminster's doctor talked about it to-day. I daresay it will be in the Chatteris paper to-morrow. It is all over the county that Sir Francis Clavering, of Clavering, is going to retire, in behalf of Mr. Arthur Pendennis, of Fairoaks; and that the young and beautiful Miss Blanche Amory is—"

"What! that too?" asked Pendennis.

"That, too, dear Arthur. Tout se sait, as somebody would say, whom I intend to be very fond of; and who I am sure is very clever and pretty. I have had a letter from Blanche. The kindest of letters. She speaks so warmly of you, Arthur! I hope I know she feels what she writes. When is it to be, Arthur? Why did you not tell e? I may come and live with you then, mayn't I?"

me

My home is yours, dear Laura, and every thing I have," Pen said. 'If I did not tell you, it was because-because-I do not know: nothing is decided as yet. No words have passed between us. But you think Blanche could be happy with me-don't you? Not a romantic fondness, you know. I have no heart, I think; I've told her so: only a sobersided attachment: and want my wife on one side of the fire and my sister on the other, Parliament in the session and Fairoaks in the holidays, and my Laura never to leave me until somebody who has a right comes to take her away."

Somebody who has a right-somebody with a right! Why did Pen as he looked at the girl and slowly uttered the words, begin to feel angry and jealous of the invisible somebody with the right to take her away? Anxious, but a minute ago, how she would take the news regarding his probable arrangements with Blanche, Pen was hurt somehow that she received the intelligence so easily, and took his happiness for granted.

"Until somebody comes," Laura said, with a laugh, "I will stay at home and be aunt Laura, and take care of the children when Blanche is in the world. I have arranged it all. I am an excellent housekeeper. Do you know I have been to market at Paris with Mrs. Beck, and have taken some lessons from M. Grandjean. And I have had some lessons in Paris in singing too, with the money which you sent

:

me, you kind boy and I can sing much better now and I have learned to dance, though not so well as Blanche, and when you become a minister of state, Blanche shall present me :" and with this, and with a provoking good-humor, she performed for him the last Parisian courtesy.

Lady Rockminster came in while this courtesy was being performed, and gave to Arthur one finger to shake; which he took, and over which he bowed as well as he could, which, in truth, was very clumsily.

So you are going to be married, sir," said the old lady. "Scold him, Lady Rockminster, for not telling us," Laura said, going away which, in truth, the old lady began instantly to do. So you are going to marry, and to go into Parliament in place of that good-fornothing Sir Francis Clavering. I wanted him to give my grandson his seat-why did he not give my grandson his seat? I hope you are to have a great deal of money with Miss Amory. I wouldn't take her without a great deal."

"Sir Francis Clavering is tired of Parliament," Pen said, wincing, and and I rather wish to attempt that career. The rest of the story is at least premature."

“I wonder, when you had Laura at home, you could take up with such an affected little creature as that," the old lady continued.

"I am very sorry Miss Amory does not please your ladyship," said Pen, smiling.

"You mean-that it is no affair of mine, and that I am not going to marry her. Well I'm not, and I'm very glad I am not—a little odious thing when I think that a man could prefer her to my Laura, I've no patience with him, and so I tell you, Mr. Arthur Pendennis."

"I am very glad you see Laura with such favorable eyes," Pen said.

You are very glad, and you are very sorry. What does it matter, sir, whether you are very glad or very sorry ? A young man who prefers Miss Amory to Miss Bell has no business to be sorry or glad. A young man who takes up with such a crooked lump of affectation as that little Amory-for she is crooked, I tell you she is—after seeing my Laura, has no right to hold up his head again. Where is your friend Bluebeard? The tall young man, I mean-Warrington, isn't his name? Why does he not come down, and marry Laura? What do the young men mean by not marrying such a girl as that? They all marry for money now. You are all selfish and cowards. We ran away with each other and made foolish matches in my time. I have no patience with the young men ! When I was at Paris in the winter, I asked all the three attachés at the Embassy why they did not fall in love with Miss Bell? They laughed—they said they wanted money. You are all selfish-you are all cowards."

"I hope before you offered Miss Bell to the attachés," said Pen, with some heat, "you did her the favor to consult her?"

"Miss Bell has only a little money. Miss Bell must marry soon. Somebody must make a match for her, sir; and a girl can't offer herself," said the old dowager, with great state. "Laura, my dear, I've