his
brother's executor, and joint guardian to the boy with Mrs. Pendennis.
Everything was left unreservedly to her, except in case of a second
marriage,--an occasion which might offer itself in the case of so
young and handsome a woman, Mr. Tatham gallantly said, when different
provisions were enacted by the deceased. The Major would of course take
entire superintendence of everything under this most impressive and
melancholy occasion. Aware of this authority, old John the footman, when
he brought Major Pendennis the candle to go to bed, followed afterwards
with the plate-basket; and the next morning brought him the key of the
hall clock--the Squire always used to wind it up of a Thursday, John
said. Mrs. Pendennis's maid brought him messages from her mistress.
She confirmed the doctor's report, of the comfort which Master Arthur's
arrival had caused to his mother.

What passed between that lady and the boy is not of import. A veil
should be thrown over those sacred emotions of love and grief. The
maternal passion is a sacred mystery to me. What one sees symbolised
in the Roman churches in the image of the Virgin Mother with a bosom
bleeding with love, I think one may witness (and admire the Almighty
bounty for) every day. I saw a Jewish lady, only yesterday, with a
child at her knee, and from whose face towards the child there shone
a sweetness so angelical, that it seemed to form a sort of glory round
both. I protest I could have knelt before her too, and adored in her the
Divine beneficence in endowing us with the maternal storge, which began
with our race and sanctifies the history of mankind.

So it was with this, in a word, that Mrs. Pendennis comforted herself
on the death of her husband, whom, however, she always reverenced as the
best, the most upright, wise, high-minded, accomplished, and awful of
men. If the women did not make idols of us, and if they saw us as we see
each other, would life be bearable, or could society go on? Let a man
pray that none of his womankind should form a just estimation of him.
If your wife knew you as you are, neighbour, she would not grieve much
about being your widow, and would let your grave-lamp go out very
soon, or perhaps not even take the trouble to light it. Whereas Helen
Pendennis put up the handsomest of memorials to her husband, and
constantly renewed it with the most precious oil.

As for Arthur Pendennis, after that awful shock which the sight of his
dead father mu