avourable opinion of September in London
from that time forward, and declared at his clubs and in society that
the dead season in town was often pleasant, doosid pleasant, begad. He
used to go home to his lodgings in Bury Street of a night, wondering
that it was already so late, and that the evening had passed away so
quickly. He made his appearance at the Temple pretty constantly in
the afternoon, and tugged up the long black staircase with quite a
benevolent activity and perseverance. And he made interest with the chef
at Bays's (that renowned cook, the superintendence of whose work upon
Gastronomy compelled the gifted author to stay in the metropolis), to
prepare little jellies, delicate clear soups, aspics, and other trifles
good for invalids, which Morgan the valet constantly brought down to the
little Lamb Court colony. And the permission to drink a glass or two of
pure sherry being accorded to Pen by Doctor Goodenough, the Major
told with almost tears in his eyes how his noble friend the Marquis of
Steyne, passing through London on his way to the Continent, had ordered
any quantity of his precious, his priceless Amontillado, that had been
a present from King Ferdinand to the noble Marquis, to be placed at the
disposal of Mr. Arthur Pendennis. The widow and Laura tasted it with
respect (though they didn't in the least like the bitter flavour) but
the invalid was greatly invigorated by it, and Warrington pronounced
it superlatively good, and proposed the Major's health in a mock speech
after dinner on the first day when the wine was served, and that of Lord
Steyne and the aristocracy in general.

Major Pendennis returned thanks with the utmost gravity and in a speech
in which he used the words, 'the present occasion,' at least the proper
number of times. Pen cheered with his feeble voice from his armchair.
Warrington taught Miss Laura to cry "Hear! hear!" and tapped the table
with his knuckles. Pidgeon the attendant grinned, and honest Doctor
Goodenough found the party so merrily engaged, when he came in to pay
his faithful gratuitous visit.

Warrington knew Sibwright, who lived below and that gallant gentleman,
in reply to a letter informing him of the use to which his apartment had
been put, wrote back the most polite and flowery letter of acquiescence
He placed his chambers at the service of their fair occupants, his
bed at their disposal, his carpets at their feet. Everybody was kindly
disposed towards the sic