eonora and Neaera;
about the two heroes, Walter Lorraine and his rival the young Duke--"and
what good company you introduce us to," said the young lady archly "quel
ton! How much of your life have you passed at court, and are you a prime
minister's son, Mr. Arthur?"

Pen began to laugh--"It is as cheap for a novelist to create a Duke as
to make a Baronet," he said. "Shall I tell you a secret, Miss Amory? I
promoted all my characters at the request of the publisher. The young
Duke was only a young Baron when the novel was first written; his false
friend, the Viscount, was a simple commoner and so on with all the
characters of the story."

"What a wicked, satirical, pert young man you have become! Comme vous
voila forme!" said the young lady. "How different from Arthur Pendennis
of the country! Ah! I think I like Arthur Pendennis of the country best,
though!" and she gave him the full benefit of her eyes,--both of the
fond appealing glance into his own, and of the modest look downwards
towards the carpet, which showed off her dark eyelids and long fringed
lashes.

Pen of course protested that he had not changed in the least, to which
the young lady replied by a tender sigh; and thinking that she had done
quite enough to make Arthur happy or miserable (as the case might be),
she proceeded to cajole his companion, Mr. Harry Foker, who during the
literary conversation had sate silently imbibing the head of his cane,
and wishing that he was a clever chap like that Pen.

If the Major thought that by telling Miss Amory of Mr. Foker's
engagement to his cousin, Lady Ann Milton (which information the old
gentleman neatly conveyed to the girl as he sate by her side at luncheon
below-stairs),--if, we say, the Major thought that the knowledge of
this fact would prevent Blanche from paying any further attention to the
young heir of Foker's Entire, he was entirely mistaken. She became only
the more gracious to Foker: she praised him, and everything belonging
to him; she praised his mamma; she praised the pony which he rode in
the Park; she praised the lovely breloques or gimcracks which the young
gentleman wore at his watch-chain, and that dear little darling of a
cane, and those dear little delicious monkeys' heads with ruby eyes,
which ornamented Harry's shirt, and formed the buttons of his waistcoat.
And then, having praised and coaxed the weak youth until he blushed and
tingled with pleasure, and until Pen thought she really ha