ractised in England only, and
only to perfection by University men,--and which seems to say, "Confound
you--what do you do here?"

"I knew that man at Oxbridge," Mr. Pynsent said to Miss Bell--"a Mr.
Pendennis, I think."

"Yes," said Miss Bell.

"He seems rather sweet upon Miss Amory," the gentleman went on. Laura
looked at them, and perhaps thought so too, but said nothing.

"A man of large property in the county, ain't he? He used to talk about
representing it. He used to speak at the Union. Whereabouts do his
estates lie?"

Laura smiled. "His estates lie on the other side of the river, near the
lodge-gate. He is my cousin, and I live there."

"Where?" asked Mr. Pynsent, with a laugh.

"Why, on the other side of the river, at Fairoaks," answered Miss Bell.

"Many pheasants there? Cover looks rather good," said the simple
gentleman.

Laura smiled again. "We have nine hens and a cock, a pig, and an old
pointer."

"Pendennis don't preserve, then?" continued Mr. Pynsent.

"You should come and see him," the girl said, laughing, and greatly
amused at the notion that her Pen was a great county gentleman, and
perhaps had given himself out to be such.

"Indeed, I quite long to renew our acquaintance," Mr. Pynsent said,
gallantly, and with a look which fairly said, "It is you that I would
like to come and see"--to which look and speech Miss Laura vouchsafed a
smile, and made a little bow.

Here Blanche came stepping up with her most fascinating smile and ogle,
and begged dear Laura to come and take the second in a song. Laura was
ready to do anything good-natured, and went to the piano; by which Mr.
Pynsent listened as long as the duet lasted, and until Miss Amory began
for herself, when he strode away.

"What a nice, frank, amiable, well-bred girl that is, Wagg," said Mr.
Pynsent to a gentleman who had come over with him from Baymouth--"the
tall one, I mean, with the ringlets and red lips--monstrous red, ain't
they?"

"What do you think of the girl of the house?" asked Wagg.

"I think she's a lean, scraggy humbug," said Mr. Pynsent, with great
candour. "She drags her shoulders out of her dress, she never lets
her eyes alone: and she goes simpering and ogling about like a French
waiting-maid.

"Pynsent, be civil," cried the other, "somebody can hear."

"Oh, it's Pendennis of Boniface," Mr. Pynsent said. "Fine evening, Mr.
Pendennis; we were just talking of your charming cousin."

"Any relation to my ol