e came
back to the carriage, his usually benign and smirking countenance
was obscured by some sorrow. "What is the matter with you now?" the
good-natured Begum asked. The Major pretended a headache from the
fatigue and sunshine of the day. The carriage wheeled off the course and
took its way Londonwards, not the least brilliant equipage in that vast
and picturesque procession. The tipsy drivers dashed gallantly over the
turf, amidst the admiration of foot-passengers, the ironical cheers of
the little donkey-carriages and spring vans, and the loud objurgations
of horse-and-chaise men, with whom the reckless post-boys came in
contact. The jolly Begum looked the picture of good-humour as she
reclined on her splendid cushions; the lovely Sylphide smiled with
languid elegance. Many an honest holiday-maker with his family wadded
into a tax-cart, many a cheap dandy working his way home on his weary
hack, admired that brilliant turn-out, and thought, no doubt, how happy
those "swells" must be. Strong sat on the box still, with a lordly voice
calling to the post-boys and the crowd. Master Frank had been put inside
of the carriage and was asleep there by the side of the Major, dozing
away the effects of the constant luncheon and champagne of which he had
freely partaken.

The Major was revolving in his mind meanwhile the news the receipt of
which had made him so grave. "If Sir Francis Clavering goes on in this
way," Pendennis the elder thought, "this little tipsy rascal will be as
bankrupt as his father and grandfather before him. The Begum's fortune
can't stand such drains upon it: no fortune can stand them: she has paid
his debts half a dozen times already. A few years more of the turf, and
a few coups like this, will ruin her."

"Don't you think we could get up races at Clavering, mamma?" Miss Amory
asked. "Yes, we must have them there again. There were races there in
the old times, the good old times. It's a national amusement, you know:
and we could have a Clavering ball: and we might have dances for the
tenantry, and rustic sports in the park--Oh, it would be charming."

"Capital fun," said mamma. "Wouldn't it, Major?"

"The turf is a very expensive amusement, my dear lady," Major Pendennis
answered, with such a rueful face, that the Begum rallied him, and asked
laughingly whether he had lost money on the race?

After a slumber of about an hour and a half, the heir of the house began
to exhibit symptoms of wakefulness,