themselves, began to think what would be the most
amusing topic of conversation with Pen, and hit upon that precise one
which was most painful to our young gentleman.

"Jolly night at Vauxhall--wasn't it?" he said, and winked in a very
knowing way.

"I'm glad you liked it," poor Pen said, groaning in spirit.

"I was dev'lish cut--uncommon--been dining with some chaps at Greenwich.
That was a pretty bit of muslin hanging on your arm--who was she?" asked
the fascinating student.

The question was too much for Arthur. "Have I asked you any questions
about yourself, Mr. Huxter?" he said.

"I didn't mean any offence--beg pardon--hang it, you cut up quite
savage," said Pen's astonished interlocutor.

"Do you remember what took place between us the other night?" Pen asked,
with gathering wrath. "You forget? Very probably. You were tipsy, as you
observed just now, and very rude."

"Hang it, sir, I asked your pardon," Huxter said, looking red.

"You did certainly, and it was granted with all my heart. I am sure. But
if you recollect, I begged that you would have the goodness to omit me
from the list of your acquaintance for the future; and when we met in
public, that you would not take the trouble to recognise me. Will you
please to remember this, hereafter? and as the song is beginning, permit
me to leave you to the unrestrained enjoyment of the music."

He took his hat, and making a bow to the amazed Mr. Huxter left the
table, as Huxter's comrades, after a pause of wonder, set up such a roar
of laughter at Huxter, as called for the intervention of the president
of the room; who bawled out, "Silence, gentlemen; do have silence
for the Body Snatcher!" which popular song began as Pen left the
Back Kitchen. He flattered himself that he had commanded his temper
perfectly. He rather wished that Huxter had been pugnacious. He would
have liked to fight him or somebody. He went home. The day's work, the
dinner, the play, the whisky-and-water, the quarrel,--nothing soothed
him. He slept no better than on the previous night.

A few days afterwards, Mr. Sam Huxter wrote home a letter to Mr. Hobnell
in the country, of which Mr. Arthur Pendennis formed the principal
subject. Sam described Arthur's pursuits in London, and his confounded
insolence of behaviour to his old friends from home. He said he was an
abandoned criminal, a regular Don Juan, a fellow who, when he did come
into the country, ought to be kept out of honest peopl