In truth there
were but three of those documents and to learn their contents required
no great effort of memory.

In No. 1, Miss Fotheringay presents grateful compliments to Mr.
Pendennis, and in her papa's name and her own begs to thank him for his
most beautiful presents. They will always be kept carefully; and Miss
F. and Captain C. will never forget the delightful evening which they
passed on Tuesday last.

No. 2 said--Dear Sir, we shall have a small quiet party of social
friends at our humble board, next Tuesday evening, at an early tea, when
I shall wear the beautiful scarf which, with its accompanying delightful
verses, I shall ever, ever cherish: and papa bids me say how happy he
will be if you will join 'the feast of reason and the flow of soul' in
our festive little party, as I am sure will be your truly grateful Emily
Fotheringay.

No. 3 was somewhat more confidential, and showed that matters had
proceeded rather far. You were odious yesterday night, the letter said.
Why did you not come to the stage-door? Papa could not escort me on
account of his eye; he had an accident, and fell down over a loose
carpet on the stair on Sunday night. I saw you looking at Miss Diggle
all night; and you were so enchanted with Lydia Languish you scarcely
once looked at Julia. I could have crushed Bingley, I was so angry.
I play Ella Rosenberg on Friday: will you come then? Miss Diggle
performs--ever your E. F.

These three letters Mr. Pen used to read at intervals, during the
day and night, and embrace with that delight and fervour which such
beautiful compositions surely warranted. A thousand times at least he
had kissed fondly the musky satin paper, made sacred to him by the hand
of Emily Fotheringay. This was all he had in return for his passion
and flames, his vows and protests, his rhymes and similes, his wakeful
nights and endless thoughts, his fondness, fears and folly. The young
wiseacre had pledged away his all for this: signed his name to endless
promissory notes, conferring his heart upon the bearer: bound himself
for life, and got back twopence as an equivalent. For Miss Costigan was
a young lady of such perfect good-conduct and self-command, that she
never would have thought of giving more, and reserved the treasures of
her affection until she could transfer them lawfully at church.

Howbeit, Mr. Pen was content with what tokens of regard he had got, and
mumbled over his three letters in a rapture of high s