at his beard
and white neckcloth, our modest young gentleman took a cab and drove to
the Temple.

Ah! is this the boy that prayed at his mother's knee but a few years
since, and for whom very likely at this hour of morning she is praying?
Is this jaded and selfish worldling the lad who, a short while back, was
ready to fling away his worldly all, his hope, his ambition, his chance
of life, for his love? This is the man you are proud of, old Pendennis.
You boast of having formed him: and of having reasoned him out of his
absurd romance and folly--and groaning in your bed over your pains and
rheumatisms, satisfy yourself still by thinking, that, at last, that lad
will do something to better himself in life, and that the Pendennises
will take a good place in the world. And is he the only one, who in his
progress through this dark life goes wilfully or fatally astray, whilst
the natural truth and love which should illumine him grow dim in the
poisoned air, and suffice to light him no more?

When Pen was gone away, poor Harry Foker got up from the sofa, and
taking out from his waistcoat--the splendidly buttoned, but the
gorgeously embroidered, the work of his mamma--a little white rosebud,
he drew from his dressing-case, also the maternal present, a pair of
scissors, with which he nipped carefully the stalk of the flower, and
placing it in a glass of water opposite his bed, he sought refuge there
from care and bitter remembrances.

It is to be presumed that Miss Blanche Amory had more than one rose in
her bouquet, and why should not the kind young creature give out of her
superfluity, and make as many partners as possible happy?

CHAPTER XLVII. Monseigneur s'amuse

The exertions of that last night at Gaunt House had proved almost too
much for Major Pendennis; and as soon as he could move his weary old
body with safety, he transported himself groaning to Buxton, and sought
relief in the healing waters of that place. Parliament broke up. Sir
Francis Clavering and family left town, and the affairs which we have
just mentioned to the reader were not advanced, in the brief interval
of a few days or weeks which have occurred between this and the last
chapter. The town was, however, emptied since then.

The season was now come to a conclusion: Pen's neighbours, the lawyers,
were gone upon circuit: and his more fashionable friends had taken their
passports for the Continent, or had fled for health or excitement to
th