nce, who rustles in silk up to the cushion. I won't
cane the boys, nay, or say Amen always, or act as the church's champion
and warrior, in the shape of the beadle with the staff; but I will take
off my hat in the place, and say my prayers there too, and shake hands
with the clergyman as he steps on the grass outside. Don't I know that
his being there is a compromise, and that he stands before me an Act
of Parliament? That the church he occupies was built for other worship?
That the Methodist chapel is next door; and that Bunyan the tinker is
bawling out the tidings of damnation on the common hard by? Yes, I am a
Sadducee; and I take things as I find them, and the world, and the Acts
of Parliament of the world, as they are; and as I intend to take a wife,
if I find one--not to be madly in love and prostrate at her feet like
a fool--not to worship her as an angel, or to expect to find her
as such--but to be good-natured to her, and courteous, expecting
good-nature and pleasant society from her in turn. And so, George,
if ever you hear of my marrying, depend on it, it won't be a romantic
attachment on my side: and if you hear of any good place under
Government, I have no particular scruples that I know of, which would
prevent me from accepting your offer."
"O Pen, you scoundrel! I know what you mean," here Warrington broke
out. "This is the meaning of your scepticism, of your quietism, of your
atheism, my poor fellow. You're going to sell yourself, and Heaven help
you! You are going to make a bargain which will degrade you and make you
miserable for life, and there's no use talking of it. If you are once
bent on it, the devil won't prevent you."
"On the contrary, he's on my side, isn't he, George?" said Pen with a
laugh. "What good cigars these are! Come down and have a little dinner
at the Club; the chef's in town, and he'll cook a good one for me. No,
you won't? Don't be sulky, old boy, I'm going down to--to the country
to-morrow."
CHAPTER LXIII. Which accounts perhaps for Chapter LXI. The information
regarding the affairs of the Clavering family, which Major Pendennis
had acquired through Strong, and by his own personal interference as the
friend of the house, was such as almost made the old gentleman pause in
any plans which he might have once entertained for his nephew's benefit.
To bestow upon Arthur a wife with two such fathers-in-law, as the two
worthies whom the guileless and unfortunate Lady Clavering
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