been thinking of his own affairs. "Fanny and I have talked
him over, and we can't help fancying that it's Mrs. Lightfoot's first
husband come to life again, and she who has just married a second.
Perhaps Lightfoot won't be very sorry for it," sighed Huxter, looking
savagely at Arthur, for the demon of jealousy was still in possession
of his soul; and now, and more than ever since his marriage, the poor
fellow fancied that Fanny's heart belonged to his rival.

"Let us talk about your affairs," said Pen. "Show me how I can be of any
service to you, Huxter. Let me congratulate you on your marriage. I am
thankful that Fanny, who is so good, so fascinating, so kind a creature,
has found an honest man, and a gentleman who will make her happy. Show
me what I can do to help you."

"She thinks you can, sir," said Huxter, accepting Pen's proffered hand,
"and I'm very much obliged to you, I'm sure; and that you might talk
over my father, and break the business to him, and my mother, who always
has her back up about being a clergyman's daughter. Fanny ain't of a
good family, I know, and not up to us in breeding and that--but she's a
Huxter now."

"The wife takes the husband's rank, of course," said Pen.

"And with a little practice in society," continued Huxter, imbibing his
stick, "she'll be as good as any girl in Clavering. You should hear
her sing and play on the piano. Did you ever? Old Bows taught her. And
she'll do on the stage, if the governor was to throw me over; but
I'd rather not have her there. She can't help being a coquette, Mr.
Pendennis, she can't help it. Dammy, sir! I'll be bound to say, that two
or three of the Bartholomew chaps, that I've brought into my place, are
sitting with her now: even Jack Linton, that I took down as my best man,
is as bad as the rest, and she will go on singing and making eyes at
him. It's what Bows says, if there were twenty men in a room, and one
not taking notice of her, she wouldn't be satisfied until the twentieth
was at her elbow."

"You should have her mother with her," said Pen, laughing.

"She must keep the lodge. She can't see so much of her family as she
used. I can't, you know, sir, go on with that lot. Consider my rank in
life," said Huxter, putting a very dirty hand up to his chin.

"Au fait," said Mr. Pen, who was infinitely amused, and concerning whom
mutato nomine (and of course concerning nobody else in the world) the
fable might have been narrated.

As the two