e," he said, "and
so you know me, do you?"

"We keep the lodge, sir, at Shepherd's Inn," Fanny said with a curtsey;
"and I've never been at Vauxhall, sir, and Papa didn't like me to
go--and--and--O--O--law, how beautiful!" She shrank back as she spoke,
starting with wonder and delight as she saw the Royal Gardens blaze
before her with a hundred million of lamps, with a splendour such as the
finest fairy tale, the finest pantomime she had ever witnessed at the
theatre, had never realised. Pen was pleased with her pleasure, and
pressed to his side the little hand which clung so kindly to him. "What
would I not give for a little of this pleasure?" said the blase young
man.

"Your purse, Pendennis, me dear boy," said the Captain's voice behind
him. "Will ye count it? it's all roight--no--ye thrust in old Jack
Costigan (he thrusts me, ye see, madam). Ye've been me preserver, Pen
(I've known um since choildhood, Mrs. Bolton; he's the proproietor of
Fairoaks Castle, and many's the cooper of clart I've dthrunk there with
the first nobilitee of his neetive countee),--Mr. Pendennis, ye've
been me preserver, and of thank ye; me daughtther will thank ye;--Mr.
Simpson, your humble servant sir."

If Pen was magnificent in his courtesy to the ladies, what was his
splendour in comparison to Captain Costigan's bowing here and there, and
crying bravo to the singers?

A man, descended like Costigan, from a long line of Hibernian kings,
chieftains, and other magnates and sheriffs of the county, had of course
too much dignity and self-respect to walk arrum-in-arrum (as the Captain
phrased it) with a lady who occasionally swept his room out, and cooked
his mutton-chops. In the course of their journey from Shepherd's Inn
to Vauxhall Gardens, Captain Costigan had walked by the side of the two
ladies, in a patronising and affable manner pointing out to them the
edifices worthy of note, and discoorsing, according to his wont, about
other cities and countries which he had visited, and the people of rank
and fashion with whom he had the honour of an acquaintance. Nor could it
be expected, nor, indeed, did Mrs. Bolton expect, that, arrived in the
Royal property, and strongly illuminated by the flare of the twenty
thousand additional lamps, the Captain could relax from his dignity, and
give an arm to a lady who was, in fact, little better than a housekeeper
or charwoman.

But Pen, on his part, had no such scruples. Miss Fanny Bolton did not
m