it. "We are not angry again, are we, Pen?"

"Why do you laugh at me?" said Pen. "You did the other night, and made a
fool of me to the people at Baymouth."

"My dear Arthur, I meant you no wrong," the girl answered. "You and Miss
Roundle looked so droll as you--as you met with your little accident,
that I could not make a tragedy of it. Dear Pen, it wasn't a serious
fall. And, besides, it was Miss Roundle who was the most unfortunate."

"Confound Miss Roundle," bellowed out Pen.

"I'm sure she looked so," said Laura, archly. "You were up in an
instant; but that poor lady sitting on the ground in her red crape
dress, and looking about her with that piteous face--can I ever forget
her?"--and Laura began to make a face in imitation of Miss Roundle's
under the disaster, but she checked herself repentantly, saying, "Well,
we must not laugh at her, but I am sure we ought to laugh at you, Pen,
if you were angry about such a trifle."

"You should not laugh at me, Laura," said Pen, with some bitterness;
"not you, of all people."

"And why not? Are you such a great man?" asked Laura.

"Ah no, Laura, I'm such a poor one," Pen answered. "Haven't you baited
me enough already?"

"My dear Pen, and how?" cried Laura. "Indeed, indeed, I didn't think to
vex you by such a trifle. I thought such a clever man as you could bear
a harmless little joke from his sister," she said, holding her hand out
again. "Dear Arthur, if I have hurt you, I beg your pardon."

"It is your kindness that humiliates me more even than your laughter,
Laura," Pen said. "You are always my superior."

"What! superior to the great Arthur Pendennis? How can it be possible?"
said Miss Laura, who may have had a little wickedness as well as a great
deal of kindness in her composition. "You can't mean that any woman is
your equal?"

"Those who confer benefits should not sneer," said Pen. "I don't like my
benefactor to laugh at me, Laura; it makes the obligation very hard to
bear. You scorn me because I have taken your money, and I am worthy to
be scorned; but the blow is hard coming from you."

"Money! Obligation! For shame, Pen; this is ungenerous," Laura said,
flushing red. "May not our mother claim everything that belongs to us?
Don't I owe her all my happiness in this world, Arthur? What matters
about a few paltry guineas, if we can set her tender heart at rest, and
ease her mind regarding you? I would dig in the fields, I would go out
and be a servant--I