an whom the Doctor thought he
had somewhere seen. They left them at their meal, however, and hastened
to the theatre. It was Hamlet over again. Shakspeare was Article XL.
of stout old Doctor Portman's creed, to which he always made a point of
testifying publicly at least once in a year.

We have described the play before, and how those who saw Miss
Fotheringay perform in Ophelia saw precisely the same thing on one
night as on another. Both the elderly gentlemen looked at her with
extraordinary interest, thinking how very much young Pen was charmed
with her.

"Gad," said the Major, between his teeth, as he surveyed her when
she was called forward as usual, and swept her curtsies to the scanty
audience, "the young rascal has not made a bad choice."

The Doctor applauded her loudly and loyally. "Upon my word," said he,
"She is a very clever actress; and I must say, Major, she is endowed
with very considerable personal attractions."

"So that young officer thinks in the stage-box," Major Pendennis
answered, and he pointed out to Doctor Portman's attention the young
dragoon of the George Coffee-room, who sate in the box in question, and
applauded with immense enthusiasm. She looked extremely sweet upon him
too, thought the Major: but that's their way--and he shut up his natty
opera-glass and pocketed it, as if he wished to see no more that night.
Nor did the Doctor, of course, propose to stay for the after-piece, so
they rose and left the theatre; the Doctor returning to Mrs. Portman,
who was on a visit at the Deanery, and the Major walking home full of
thought towards the George, where he had bespoken a bed.

CHAPTER X. Facing the Enemy

Sauntering slowly homewards, Major Pendennis reached the George
presently, and found Mr. Morgan, his faithful valet, awaiting him at the
door of the George Inn, who stopped his master as he was about to take a
candle to go to bed, and said, with his usual air of knowing deference,
"I think, sir, if you would go into the coffee-room, there's a young
gentleman there as you would like to see."

"What, is Mr. Arthur here?" the Major said, in great anger.

"No, sir--but his great friend, Mr. Foker, sir. Lady Hagnes Foker's
son is here, sir. He's been asleep in the coffee-room since he took his
dinner, and has just rung for his coffee, sir. And I think, p'raps, you
might like to git into conversation with him," the valet said, opening
the coffee-room door.

The Major entered; a