much in the world, or you would
know him. A man of property in the West, of one of the most ancient
families in England, related to half the nobility in the empire--he's
cousin to Lord Pontypool--he was one of the most distinguished men at
Oxbridge; he dines at Gaunt House every week."

"Law bless me, you don't say so, sir. Well--really--Law bless me now,"
said Mr. Bacon.

"I have just been showing Mr. Hack some of his verses, which he sat up
last night, at my request, to write; and Hack talks about giving him a
copy of the book--the what-d'-you-call-'em."

"Law bless me now, does he? The what-d'-you-call-'em. Indeed!"

"'The Spring Annual' is its name,--as payment for those verses. You
don't suppose that such a man as Mr. Arthur Pendennis gives up a dinner
at Gaunt House for nothing? You know as well as anybody, that the men of
fashion want to be paid."

"That they do, Mr. Warrington, sir," said the publisher.

"I tell you he's a star; he'll make a name, sir. He's a new man, sir."

"They've said that of so many of those young swells, Mr. Warrington,"
the publisher interposed, with a sigh. "There was Lord Viscount Dodo,
now; I gave his Lordship a good bit of money for his poems, and only
sold eighty copies. Mr. Popjoy's Hadgincourt, sir, fell dead."

"Well, then, I'll take my man over to Bungay," Warrington said, and
rose from the table. This threat was too much for Mr. Bacon, who
was instantly ready to accede to any reasonable proposal of Mr.
Warrington's, and finally asked his manager what those proposals were?
When he heard that the negotiation only related as yet to a couple of
ballads, which Mr. Warrington offered for the Spring Annual, Mr. Bacon
said, "Law bless you, give him a check directly;" and with this paper
Warrington went out to his friend, and placed it, grinning, in Pen's
hands. Pen was as elated as if somebody had left him a fortune. He
offered Warrington a dinner at Richmond instantly. "What should he go
and buy for Laura and his mother? He must buy something for them."

"They'll like the book better than anything else," said Warrington,
"with the young one's name to the verses, printed among the swells."

"Thank God! thank God!" cried Arthur, "I needn't be a charge upon the
old mother. I can pay off Laura now. I can get my own living. I can make
my own way."

"I can marry the grand vizier's daughter: I can purchase a house in
Belgrave Square; I can build a fine castle in the air!" said War