r of her family almost, with her usual melancholy kindness
and submissive acquiescence. Yet somehow, one morning when his affairs
called him to town, she divined what Warrington's errand was, and that
he was gone to London to get news about Fanny for Pen.

Indeed, Arthur had had some talk with his friend, and told him more
at large what his adventures had been with Fanny (adventures which the
reader knows already), and what were his feelings respecting her. He was
very thankful that he had escaped the great danger, to which Warrington
said Amen heartily: that he had no great fault wherewith to reproach
himself in regard of his behaviour to her, but that if they parted, as
they must, he would be glad to say a God bless her, and to hope that
she would remember him kindly. In his discourse with Warrington he
spoke upon these matters with so much gravity, and so much emotion, that
George, who had pronounced himself most strongly for the separation too,
began to fear that his friend was not so well cured as he boasted of
being; and that, if the two were to come together again, all the danger
and the temptation might have to be fought once more. And with what
result? "It is hard to struggle, Arthur, and it is easy to fall,"
Warrington said: "and the best courage for us poor wretches is to fly
from danger. I would not have been what I am now, had I practised what I
preach.

"And what did you practise, George?" Pen asked, eagerly. "I knew there
was something. Tell us about it, Warrington."

"There was something that can't be mended, and that shattered my whole
fortunes early," Warrington answered. "I said I would tell you about it
some day, Pen: and will, but not now. Take the moral without the fable
now, Pen, my boy; and if you want to see a man whose whole life has been
wrecked, by an unlucky rock against which he struck as a boy--here he
is, Arthur: and so I warn you."

We have shown how Mr. Huxter, in writing home to his Clavering friends,
mentioned that there was a fashionable club in London of which he was
an attendant, and that he was there in the habit of meeting an Irish
officer of distinction, who, amongst other news, had given that
intelligence regarding Pendennis, which the young surgeon had
transmitted to Clavering. This club was no other than the Back Kitchen,
where the disciple of Saint Bartholomew was accustomed to meet the
General, the peculiarities of whose brogue, appearance, disposition, and
general conv