gentlemen were in the midst of this colloquy, another knock
came to Pen's door, and his servant presently announced Mr. Bows. The
old man followed slowly, his pale face blushing, and his hand trembling
somewhat as he took Pen's. He coughed, and wiped his face in his checked
cotton pocket-handkerchief, and sate down with his hands on his knees,
the sunshining on his bald head. Pen looked at the homely figure with no
small sympathy and kindness. This man, too, has had his griefs and his
wounds, Arthur thought. This man, too, has brought his genius and his
heart, and laid them at a woman's feet; where she spurned them. The
chance of life has gone against him, and the prize is with that creature
yonder. Fanny's bridegroom, thus mutely apostrophised, had winked
meanwhile with one eye at old Bows, and was driving holes in the floor
with the cane which he loved.

"So we have lost, Mr. Bows, and here is the lucky winner," Pen said,
looking hard at the old man.

"Here is the lucky winner, sir, as you say."

"I suppose you have come from my place?" asked Huxter, who, having
winked at Bows with one eye, now favoured Pen with a wink of
the other--a wink which seemed to say, "Infatuated old boy--you
understand--over head and ears in love with her poor old fool."

"Yes, I have been there ever since you went away. It was Mrs. Sam
who sent me after you: who said that she thought you might be doing
something stupid--something like yourself, Huxter."

"There's as big fools as I am," growled the young surgeon.

"A few, p'raps," said the old man; "not many, let us trust. Yes, she
sent me after you for fear you should offend Mr. Pendennis; and I
daresay because she thought you wouldn't give her message to him, and
beg him to go and see her; and she knew I would take her errand. Did he
tell you that, sir?"

Huxter blushed scarlet, and covered his confusion with an imprecation.
Pen laughed; the scene suited his bitter humour more and more.

"I have no doubt Mr. Huxter was going to tell me," Arthur said, "and
very much flattered I am sure I shall be to pay my respects to his
wife."

"It's in Charterhouse Lane, over the baker's, on the right hand side as
you go from St. John's Street," continued Bows, without any pity. "You
know Smithfield, Mr. Pendennis? St. John's Street leads into Smithfield.
Doctor Johnson has been down the street many a time with ragged shoes,
and a bundle of penny-a-lining for the Gent's Magazine. You literary