r vacation, when Pen had announced to his mother and uncle his
intention not to go down, but stay at Oxbridge and read, Mr. Pen was
nevertheless induced to take a brief visit to London in company with
his friend Mr. Bloundell. They put up at a hotel in Covent Garden, where
Bloundell had a tick, as he called it, and took the pleasures of the
town very freely after the wont of young university men. Bloundell still
belonged to a military club, whither he took Pen to dine once or twice
(the young men would drive thither in a cab, trembling lest they
should meet Major Pendennis on his beat in Pall Mall), and here Pen
was introduced to a number of gallant young fellows with spurs and
mustachios, with whom he drank pale-ale of mornings and beat the town of
a night. Here he saw a deal of life, indeed: nor in his career about the
theatres and singing-houses which these roaring young blades frequented,
was he very likely to meet his guardian. One night, nevertheless, they
were very near to each other: a plank only separating Pen, who was
in the boxes of the Museum Theatre, from the Major, who was in Lord
Steyne's box, along with that venerated nobleman. The Fotheringay was
in the pride of her glory. Shad made a hit: that is, she had drawn very
good houses for nearly a year, had starred the provinces with great
eclat, had come back to shine in London with somewhat diminished lustre,
and now was acting with "ever increasing attraction; etc.," "triumph
of the good old British drama," as the play-bills avowed, to houses in
which there was plenty of room for anybody who wanted to see her.

It was not the first time Pen had seen her, since that memorable day
when the two had parted in Chatteris. In the previous year, when the
town was making much of her, and the press lauded her beauty, Pen had
found a pretext for coming to London in term-time, and had rushed off to
the theatre to see his old flame. He recollected it rather than
renewed it. He remembered how ardently he used to be on the look-out at
Chatteris, when the speech before Ophelia's or Mrs. Haller's entrance on
the stage was made by the proper actor. Now, as the actor spoke, he had
a sort of feeble thrill: as the house began to thunder with applause,
and Ophelia entered with her old bow and sweeping curtsey, Pen felt a
slight shock and blushed very much as he looked at her, and could not
help thinking that all the house was regarding him. He hardly heard her
for the first part