ut some money very
advantageously in the purchase of a house and small estate close upon
the village of Clavering before mentioned. Words cannot describe, nor
did he himself ever care to confess to any one, his pride when he found
himself a real landed proprietor, and could walk over acres of which
he was the master. A lucky purchase which he had made of shares in a
copper-mine added very considerably to his wealth, and he realised with
great prudence while this mine was still at its full vogue. Finally, he
sold his business at Bath, to Mr. Parkins, for a handsome sum of ready
money, and for an annuity to be paid to him during a certain number of
years after he had for ever retired from the handling of the mortar and
pestle.

Arthur Pendennis, his son, was eight years old at the time of this
event, so that it is no wonder that the latter, who left Bath and the
surgery so young, should forget the existence of such a place almost
entirely, and that his father's hands had ever been dirtied by the
compounding of odious pills, or the preparation of filthy plasters. The
old man never spoke about the shop himself, never alluded to it; called
in the medical practitioner of Clavering to attend his family when
occasion arrived; sunk the black breeches and stockings altogether;
attended market and sessions, and wore a bottle-green coat and brass
buttons with drab gaiters, just as if he had been an English gentleman
all his life. He used to stand at his lodge-gate, and see the coaches
come in, and bow gravely to the guards and coachmen as they touched
their hats and drove by. It was he who founded the Clavering Book Club:
and set up the Samaritan Soup and Blanket Society. It was he who brought
the mail, which used to run through Cacklefield before, away from that
village and through Clavering. At church he was equally active as a
vestryman and a worshipper. At market every Thursday, he went from pen
to stall, looked at samples of oats, and munched corn, felt beasts,
punched geese in the breast, and weighed them with a knowing air, and
did business with the farmers at the Clavering Arms, as well as the
oldest frequenter of that house of call. It was now his shame, as it
formerly was his pride, to be called Doctor, and those who wished to
please him always gave him the title of Squire.

Heaven knows where they came from, but a whole range of Pendennis
portraits presently hung round the Doctor's oak dining-room; Lelys and
Vandykes h