his jokes at the Admiral's expense, fancying that all the world was
laughing with him, and I leave you to imagine Lady Hobanob's feelings--
Hobanob's!--those of every well-bred man, as the wretched intru was so
exposing himself. He will never dine again in South Street. I promise you
that."

With such discourses the Major entertained his nephew, as he paced the
terrace in front of the house for his two hours' constitutional walk, or
as they sate together after dinner over their wine. He grieved that Sir
Francis Clavering had not come down to the park, to live in it since his
marriage, and to make a society for the neighbourhood. He mourned that
Lord Eyrie was not in the country, that he might take Pen and present him
to his lordship. "He has daughters," the Major said. "Who knows? you
might have married Lady Emily or Lady Barbara Trehawk; but all those
dreams are over; my poor fellow, you must lie on the bed which you have
made for yourself."

These things to hear did young Pendennis seriously incline. They are not
so interesting in print as when delivered orally; but the Major's
anecdotes of the great George, of the Royal Dukes, of the statesmen,
beauties, and fashionable ladies of the day, filled young Pen's soul with
longing and wonder; and he found the conversations with his guardian,
which sadly bored and perplexed poor Mrs. Pendennis, for his own part
never tedious.

It can't be said that Mr. Pen's new guide, philosopher, and friend
discoursed him on the most elevated subjects, or treated the subjects
which he chose in the most elevated manner. But his morality, such as it
was, was consistent. It might not, perhaps, tend to a man's progress in
another world, but it was pretty well calculated to advance his interests