is's man, as they met at their Club soon after. "My lady locked
up a'most all the bejews afore she went away, and he couldn't take
away the picters and looking-glasses in a cab and he wouldn't spout
the fenders and fire-irons--he ain't so bad as that. But he's got money
somehow. He's so dam'd imperent when he have. A few nights ago I sor
him at Vauxhall, where I was a-polkin with Lady Hemly Babewood's gals--a
wery pleasant room that is, and an uncommon good lot in it, hall except
the 'ousekeeper, and she's methodisticle--I was a-polkin--you're too old
a cove to polk, Mr. Morgan--and 'ere's your 'ealth--and I 'appened to
'ave on some of Clavering's abberdashery, and he sor it too: and he
didn't dare so much as speak a word."

"How about the house in St. John's Wood?" Mr. Morgan asked.

"Execution in it.--Sold up heverythin: ponies, and pianna, and brougham,
and all. Mrs. Montague were hoff to Boulogne,--non est inwentus, Mr.
Morgan. It's my belief she put the execution in herself: and was tired
of him."

"Play much?" asked Morgan.

"Not since the smash. When your Governor, and the lawyers, and my lady
and him had that tremendous scene: he went down on his knees, my lady
told Mrs. Bonner, as told me,--and swear as he never more would touch
a card or a dice, or put his name to a bit of paper; and my lady was
a-goin' to give him the notes down to pay his liabilities after the
race: only your Governor said (which he wrote it on a piece of paper,
and passed it across the table to the lawyer and my lady) that some one
else had better book up for him, for he'd have kep' some of the money.
He's a sly old cove, your Gov'nor."

The expression of "old cove," thus flippantly applied by the younger
gentleman to himself and his master, displeased Mr. Morgan exceedingly.
On the first occasion, when Mr. Lightfoot used the obnoxious expression,
his comrade's anger was only indicated by a silent frown; but on the
second offence, Morgan, who was smoking his cigar elegantly, and holding
it on the tip of his penknife, withdrew the cigar from his lips, and
took his young friend to task.

"Don't call Major Pendennis an old cove, if you'll 'ave the goodness,
Lightfoot, and don't call me an old cove, nether. Such words ain't used
in society; and we have lived in the fust society, both at 'ome and
foring. We've been intimate with the fust statesmen of Europe. When we
go abroad we dine with Prince Metternitch and Louy Philup reg'lar. We
go