rsonal magnetism of the heroine of the play, one Miss Fotheringay.

To Miss Fotheringay's attractions, natural and artificial, Pen responded
at once, and sat in breathless enchanted silence through all the
conversations and melodramatic situations of the mediocre performance.
When the curtain went down he felt that he now had a subject to inspire
his Muse forever. He quitted the theatre in a state of intense
excitement, and rode homeward in a state of numb ecstasy. Notwithstanding
his sentimental mood, Pen was so normal in mind and body that he slept as
soundly as ever, but when he awoke he felt himself to be many years older
than yesterday. He dressed himself in some of his finest clothes, and
came down to breakfast, patronising his mother and little Laura, who
wondered at his grand appearance, and asked him to tell her what the play
was about.

Pen laughed and declined to tell her. Then she asked him why he had got
on his fine pin and beautiful new waistcoat?

Pen blushed and said that Mr. Foker was reading with a tutor at
Baymouth, a very learned man; and as he was himself to go to college he
was anxious to ride over--and--just see what their course of reading
was. The truth was Pen had resolved that he must see Foker that morning
and find out all that was possible concerning the object of his last
night's enthusiasm; and soon after breakfast he was on his horse
galloping away towards Baymouth like a madman.

From that time the lad's chief object in life was visiting the theatre,
or Miss Fotheringay herself, to whom he had speedily received an
introduction; and although she was a young woman not at all conversant
with the social side of life with which he was familiar, she was
nevertheless fascinating to Pen, who saw her always in the glamour of
lime lights and applause. It was not long before Mrs. Pendennis
discovered the lad's new interest, which naturally disquieted her.
Finally, however, for reasons of her own, she assented to Pen's
suggestion that Miss Fotheringay was to appear as Ophelia in a benefit
performance.

"Suppose we were to go--Shakespeare, you know, mother. We can get horses
from the Clavering Arms," he said. Little Laura sprang up with delight;
she longed for a play. The mother was delighted that Pen should suggest
their going, and in her good-humour asked Mr. Smirke to be one of the
party. They arrived at the theatre ahead of time, and were cordially
saluted by Mr. Foker and a friend, who sat