or apathetic. "And is it
not most kind and generous of dear Mr. and Mrs. Pendennis to propose
to receive Mr. Newcome and the Colonel?" This opportunity for gratitude
being pointed out to Rosey, she acquiesced in it straightway--it was
very kind of me, Rosey was sure. "And don't you ask after dear Mrs.
Pendennis and the dear children--you poor dear suffering darling child?"
Rosey, who had neglected this inquiry, immediately hoped Mrs. Pendennis
and the children were well. The overpowering mother had taken utter
possession of this poor little thing. Rosey's eyes followed the
Campaigner about, and appealed to her at all moments. She sat
under Mrs. Mackenzie as a bird before a boa-constrictor,
doomed--fluttering--fascinated--scared and fawning as a whipt spaniel
before a keeper.

The Colonel was on his accustomed bench on the rampart at this sunny
hour. I repaired thither, and found the old gentleman seated by his
grandson, who lay, as yesterday, on the little bonne's lap, one of his
little purple hands closed round the grandfather's finger. "Hush!"
says the good man, lifting up his other finger to his moustache, as
I approached, "Boy's asleep. Il est bien joli quand il dort--le Boy,
n'est-ce pas, Marie?" The maid believed monsieur well--the boy was
a little angel. "This maid is a most trustworthy, valuable person,
Pendennis," the Colonel said, with much gravity.

The boa-constrictor had fascinated him, too--the lash of that woman at
home had cowed that helpless, gentle, noble spirit. As I looked at the
head so upright and manly, now so beautiful and resigned--the year of
his past life seemed to pass before me somehow in a flash of thought.
I could fancy the accursed tyranny--the dumb acquiescence--the
brutal jeer--the helpless remorse--the sleepless nights of pain and
recollection--the gentle heart lacerated with deadly stabs--and the
impotent hope. I own I burst into a sob at the sight, and thought of the
noble suffering creature, and hid my face, and turned away.

He sprang up, releasing his hand from the child's, and placing it, the
kind shaking hand, on my shoulder. "What is it, Arthur--my dear boy?"
he said, looking wistfully in my face. "No bad news from home, my dear?
Laura and the children well?"

The emotion was mastered in a moment, I put his arm under mine, and as
we slowly sauntered up and down the sunny walk of the old rampart, I
told him how I had come with special commands from Laura to bring him
for a