oung men.

Warrington began to laugh as usual. "Video meliora proboque--I mean,
bring it me hot, with sugar, John," he said to waiter.

"I would have some more, too, only I don't want it," said Pen. "It
does not seem to me, Warrington, that we are much better than our
neighbours." And Warrington's last glass having been despatched, the
pair returned to their chambers.

They found a couple of notes in the letter-box, on their return, which
had been sent by their acquaintance of the morning, Mr. Bungay. That
hospitable gentleman presented his compliments to each of the gentlemen,
and requested their pleasure of company at dinner on an early day, to
meet a few literary friends.

"We shall have a grand spread, Warrington. We shall meet all Bungay's
corps."

"All except poor Shandon," said Pen, nodding a good-night to his friend,
and he went into his own little room. The events and acquaintances of
the day had excited him a good deal, and he lay for some time awake
thinking over them, as Warrington's vigorous and regular snore from the
neighbouring apartment pronounced that that gentleman was engaged in
deep slumber.

Is it true, thought Pendennis, lying on his bed and gazing at a bright
moon without, that lighted up a corner of his dressing-table, and the
frame of a little sketch of Fairoaks drawn by Laura, and hung over his
drawers--is it true that I am going to earn my bread at last, and with
my pen? that I shall impoverish the dear mother no longer; and that I
may gain a name and reputation in the world, perhaps? These are welcome
if they come, thought the young visionary, laughing and blushing to
himself, though alone and in the night, as he thought how dearly he
would relish honour and fame if they could be his. If fortune favours
me, I laud her; if she frowns, I resign her. I pray Heaven I may be
honest if I fail, or if I succeed. I pray Heaven I may tell the truth
as far as I know it: that I mayn't swerve from it through flattery, or
interest, or personal enmity, or party prejudice. Dearest old mother,
what a pride will you have, if I can do anything worthy of our name
I and you, Laura, you won't scorn me as the worthless idler and
spendthrift, when you see that I--when I have achieved a--psha! what
an Alnaschar I am because I have made five pounds by my poems, and am
engaged to write half a dozen articles for a newspaper. He went on with
these musings, more happy and hopeful, and in a humbler frame of mind,