"Know it! don't I? and many more too. We were talking about it at mess,
yesterday, and chaffing Derby Oaks--until he was as mad as a hatter. Know
Sir Derby Oaks? We dined together, and he went to the play: we were
standing at the door smoking, I remember, when you passed in to dinner."

"I remember Sir Thomas Oaks, his father, before he was a Baronet or a
Knight; he lived in Cavendish-square, and was physician to Queen
Charlotte."

"The young one is making the money spin, I can tell you," Mr. Foker said.

"And is Sir Derby Oaks," the Major said, with great delight and anxiety,
"another soupirant?"

"Another what?" inquired Mr. Foker.

"Another admirer of Miss Fotheringay?"

"Lord bless you! we call him Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and Pen
Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. But mind you, nothing wrong! No, no!
Miss F. is a deal too wide-awake for that, Major Pendennis. She plays one
off against the other. What you call two strings to her bow."

"I think you seem tolerably wide-awake, too, Mr. Foker, Pendennis said,
laughing.

"Pretty well, thank you, sir--how are you?" Foker replied, imperturbably.
"I'm not clever, p'raps: but I am rather downy; and partial friends say I
know what's o'clock tolerably well. Can I tell you the time of day in any