--or a great post, when a man
feels that he is not fit for it. Ah, sister, how weak and wicked we are;
how spotless, and full of love and truth, Heaven made you! I think for
some of you there has been no fall," he said, looking at the charming
girl with an almost paternal glance of admiration. "You can't help
having sweet thoughts, and doing good actions. Dear creature! they are
the flowers which you bear."

"And what else, sir?" asked Laura. "I see a sneer coming over your face.
What is it? Why does it come to drive all the good thoughts away?"

"A sneer, is there? I was thinking, my dear, that nature in making you
so good and loving did very well: but----"

"But what? What is that wicked but? and why are you always calling it
up?"

"But will come in spite of us. But is reflection. But is the sceptic's
familiar, with whom he has made a compact; and if he forgets it, and
indulges in happy day-dreams, or building of air-castles, or listens to
sweet music let us say, or to the bells ringing to church, But taps
at the door, and says, Master, I am here. You are my master; but I am
yours. Go where you will you can't travel without me. I will whisper
to you when you are on your knees at church. I will be at your marriage
pillow. I will sit down at your table with your children. I will be
behind your deathbed curtain. That is what But is," Pen said.

"Pen, you frighten me," cried Laura.

"Do you know what But came and said to me just now, when I was looking
at you? But said, If that girl had reason as well as love, she would
love you no more. If she knew you as you are--the sullied, selfish being
which you know--she must part from you, and could give you no love and
no sympathy. Didn't I say," he added fondly, "that some of you seem
exempt from the fall? Love you know; but the knowledge of evil is kept
from you."

"What is this you young folks are talking about?" asked Lady
Rockminster, who at this moment made her appearance in the room, having
performed, in the mystic retirement of her own apartments, and under the
hands of her attendant, those elaborate toilet-rites without which the
worthy old lady never presented herself to public view. "Mr. Pendennis,
you are always coming here."

"It is very pleasant to be here," Arthur said; "and we were talking,
when you came in, about my friend Foker, whom I met just now; and who,
as your ladyship knows, has succeeded to his father's kingdom."

"He has a very fine property,