Sauntering slowly homewards, Major Pendennis reached the George
presently, and found Mr. Morgan, his faithful valet, awaiting him at the
door of the George Inn, who stopped his master as he was about to take a
candle to go to bed, and said, with his usual air of knowing deference,
"I think, sir, if you would go into the coffee-room, there's a young
gentleman there as you would like to see."

"What, is Mr. Arthur here?" the Major said, in great anger.

"No, sir--but his great friend, Mr. Foker, sir. Lady Hagnes Foker's son
is here, sir. He's been asleep in the coffee-room since he took his
dinner, and has just rung for his coffee, sir. And I think, p'raps, you
might like to git into conversation with him," the valet said, opening
the coffee-room door.

The Major entered; and there indeed was Mr. Foker, the only occupant of
the place. He was rubbing his eyes, and sate before a table rated with
empty decanters and relics of dessert. He had intended to go to the play
too, but sleep had overtaken him after a copious meal, and he had flung
up his legs on the bench, and indulged in a nap instead of the dramatic
amusement. The Major was meditating how to address the young man, but the
latter prevented him that trouble.

"Like to look at the evening paper, sir?" said Mr. Foker, who was always
communicative and affable; and he took up the Globe from his table, and
offered it to the new-comer.

"I am very much obliged to you," said the Major, with a grateful bow and
smile. "If I don't mistake the family likeness, I have the pleasure of
speaking to Mr. Henry Foker, Lady Agnes Foker's son. I have the happiness