that it seemed to form a sort of glory round both. I protest I could have
knelt before her too, and adored in her the Divine beneficence in
endowing us with the maternal storge, which began with our race and
sanctifies the history of mankind.

So it was with this, in a word, that Mrs. Pendennis comforted herself on
the death of her husband, whom, however, she always reverenced as the
best, the most upright, wise, high-minded, accomplished, and awful of
men. If the women did not make idols of us, and if they saw us as we see
each other, would life be bearable, or could society go on? Let a man
pray that none of his womankind should form a just estimation of him. If
your wife knew you as you are, neighbour, she would not grieve much about
being your widow, and would let your grave-lamp go out very soon, or
perhaps not even take the trouble to light it. Whereas Helen Pendennis
put up the handsomest of memorials to her husband, and constantly renewed
it with the most precious oil.

As for Arthur Pendennis, after that awful shock which the sight of his
dead father must have produced on him, and the pity and feeling which
such an event no doubt occasioned, I am not sure that in the very moment
of the grief, and as he embraced his mother and tenderly consoled her,
and promised to love her for ever, there was not springing up in his
breast a feeling of secret triumph and exultation. He was the chief now
and lord. He was Pendennis; and all round about him were his servants and
handmaids. "You'll never send me away," little Laura said, tripping by
him, and holding his hand. "You won't send me to school, will you,
Arthur?"

Arthur kissed her and patted her head. No, she shouldn't go to school. As
for going himself, that was quite out of the question. He had determined