of the faithful Mr. Bows, she found her father pacing up and down their
apartment in a great state of agitation, and in the midst of a powerful
odour of spirits-and-water, which, as it appeared, had not succeeded in
pacifying his disordered mind. The Pendennis papers were on the table
surrounding the empty goblets and now useless teaspoon which had served
to hold and mix the Captain's liquor and his friend's. As Emily entered
he seized her in his arms, and cried out, "Prepare yourself, me child, me
blessed child," in a voice of agony, and with eyes brimful of tears.

"Ye're tipsy again, Papa," Miss Fotheringay said, pushing back her sire.
"Ye promised me ye wouldn't take spirits before dinner."

"It's to forget me sorrows, me poor girl, that I've taken just a drop,"
cried the bereaved father--"it's to drown me care that I drain the bowl."

"Your care takes a deal of drowning, Captain dear," said Bows, mimicking
his friend's accent; "what has happened? Has that soft-spoken gentleman
in the wig been vexing you?"

"The oily miscreant! I'll have his blood!" roared Cos. Miss Milly, it
must be premised, had fled to her room out of his embrace, and was taking
off her bonnet and shawl there.

"I thought he meant mischief. He was so uncommon civil," the other said.
"What has he come to say?"

"O Bows! He has overwhellum'd me," the Captain said. "There's a hellish
conspiracy on foot against me poor girl; and it's me opinion that both
them Pendennises, nephew and uncle, is two infernal thrators and
scoundthrels, who should be conshumed from off the face of the earth."