that awful shock which the sight of his
dead father must have produced on him, and the pity and feeling which
such an event no doubt occasioned, I am not sure that in the very moment
of the grief, and as he embraced his mother and tenderly consoled her and
promised to love her forever, there was not springing up in his breast a
sort of secret triumph and exultation. He was the chief now and lord. He
was Pendennis; and all round about him were his servants and handmaids.

"You'll never send me away," little Laura said, tripping by him and
holding his hand. "You won't send me to school, will you, Arthur?"

Arthur kissed her and patted her head. No, she shouldn't go to school. As
for going himself that was quite out of the question. He had determined
that his life should be all holidays for the future; that he wouldn't get
up till he liked, or stand the bullying of the Doctor any more; and made
a hundred such day-dreams and resolves for the future. Then in due time
they buried John Pendennis, Esquire, in the Abbey Church of Clavering St.
Mary's, and Arthur Pendennis reigned in his stead.

Arthur was about sixteen years old when he began to reign; in person he
had what his friends would call a dumpy, but his mamma styled, a neat
little figure. His hair was of a healthy brown colour, which looked like
gold in the sunshine. His face was round, rosy, freckled, and
good-humoured. In fact, without being a beauty, he had such a frank,
good-natured, kind face and laughed so merrily at you out of his honest
blue eyes that no wonder Mrs. Pendennis thought him the pride of the
whole country. You may be certain he never went back to school; the
discipline of the establishment did not suit him, and he liked being at
home much better. The question of his return was debated, and his uncle
was for his going back. The Doctor wrote his opinion that it was most
important for Arthur's success in after life that he should know a Greek
play thoroughly, but Pen adroitly managed to hint to his mother what a
dangerous place Grey Friars was, and what sad wild fellows some of the
chaps there were, and the timid soul, taking alarm at once, acceded to
his desire to stay at home.

Then Pen's uncle offered to use his influence with his Royal Highness,
the Commander-in-Chief, to get Pen a commission in the Foot Guards. Pen's
heart leaped at this: he had been to hear the band at St. James's play on
a Sunday, when he went out to his uncle. He had seen To