the bankrupt proprietors of the Sticks hard by, and with countless
pincushions, wooden apples, backy-boxes, Jack-in-the-boxes, and little
soldiers. He had brought up a gipsy with a tawny child in her arms to
tell the fortunes of the ladies: and the only cloud which momentarily
obscured the sunshine of that happy party, was when the teller of fate
informed the young lady that had had reason to beware of a fair man,
who was false to her: that she had had a bad illness, and that she would
find that a man would prove true.

The girl looked very much abashed at this news: her mother and the young
man interchanged signs of wonder and intelligence. Perhaps the conjurer
had used the same words to a hundred different carriages on that day.

Making his way solitary amongst the crowd and the carriages, and noting,
according to his wont, the various circumstances and characters which
the animated scene presented, a young friend of ours came suddenly upon
cab 2002, and the little group of persons assembled on the outside
of the vehicle. As he caught sight of the young lady on the box,
she started and turned pale: her mother became redder than ever: the
heretofore gay and triumphant Mr. Sam immediately assumed a fierce and
suspicious look, and his eyes turned savagely from Fanny Bolton (whom
the reader, no doubt, has recognised in the young lady of the cab) to
Arthur Pendennis, advancing to meet her.

Arthur, too, looked dark and suspicious on perceiving Mr. Samuel Huxter
in company with his old acquaintances: his suspicion was that of alarmed
morality, and, I dare say, highly creditable to Mr. Arthur: like the
suspicion of Mrs. Lynx, when she sees Mr. Brown and Mrs. Jones talking
together, or when she remarks Mrs. Lamb twice or thrice in a handsome
opera-box. There may be no harm in the conversation of Mr. B. and Mr.
J.: and Mrs. Lamb's opera-box (though she notoriously can't afford one)
may be honestly come by: but yet a moralist like Mrs. Lynx has a right
to the little precautionary fright: and Arthur was no doubt justified in
adopting that severe demeanour of his.

Fanny's heart began to patter violently: Huxter's fists, plunged into
the pockets of his paletot, clenched themselves involuntarily and armed
themselves, as it were, in ambush: Mrs. Bolton began to talk with all
her might, and with a wonderful volubility: and Lor! she was so 'apply
to see Mr. Pendennis, and how well he was a-lookin', and we'd been
talking' about Mr.