choose further to particularise; "that man is the best, the dearest,
the kindest creature. I never knew such a good man; you ought to put him
into a book. Do you know, sir, that I felt the very greatest desire to
give him a kiss when he went away; and that one which you had just now,
was intended for him.

"Take back thy gift, false girl!" says Mr Pendennis; and then, finally,
we come to the particular circumstance which had occasioned so much
enthusiasm on Mrs. Laura's part.

Colonel Newcome had summoned heart of grace, and in Clive's behalf had
regularly proposed him to Barnes, as a suitor to Ethel, taking an artful
advantage of his nephew Barnes Newcome, and inviting that Barnes to
a private meeting, where they were to talk about the affairs of the
Bundelcund Banking Company.

Now this Bundelcund Banking Company, in the Colonel's eyes, was in
reality his son Clive. But for Clive there might have been a hundred
banking companies established, yielding a hundred per cent, in as many
districts of India, and Thomas Newcome, who had plenty of money for his
own wants, would never have thought of speculation. His desire was to
see his boy endowed with all the possible gifts of fortune. Had he built
a palace for Clive, and been informed that a roc's egg was required to
complete the decoration of the edifice, Tom Newcome would have travelled
to the world's end in search of the wanting article. To see Prince
Clive ride in a gold coach with a princess beside him, was the kind old
Colonel's ambition; that done, he would be content to retire to a garret
in the prince's castle, and smoke his cheroot there in peace. So the
world is made. The strong and eager covet honour and enjoyment for
themselves; the gentle and disappointed (once, they may have been strong
and eager, too) desire these gifts for their children. I think Clive's
father never liked or understood the lad's choice of a profession. He
acquiesced in it as he would in any of his son's wishes. But, not being
a poet himself, he could not see the nobility of that calling; and
felt secretly that his son was demeaning himself by pursuing the art of
painting. "Had he been a soldier, now," thought Thomas Newcome, "(though
I prevented that) had he been richer than he is, he might have married
Ethel, instead of being unhappy as he now is, God help him! I remember
my own time of grief well enough: and what years it took before my wound
wound was scarred over."

So with these t