"What?" asked Pen, and in a tone of such wonder, that Foker burst out
laughing, and said, "He was blowed if he didn't think Pen was such a flat
as not to know what coaching meant."

"I'm come down with a coach from Oxford. A tutor, don't you see, old boy?
He's coaching me, and some other men, for the little go. Me and Spavin
have the drag between us. And I thought I'd just tool over and go to the
play. Did you ever see Rowkins do the hornpipe?" and Mr. Foker began to
perform some steps of that popular dance in the inn yard, looking round
for the sympathy of his groom and the stable-men.

Pen thought he would like to go to the play too: and could ride home
afterwards, as there was a moonlight. So he accepted Foker's invitation
to dinner, and the young men entered the inn together, where Mr. Foker
stopped at the bar, and called upon Miss Rincer, the landlady's fair
daughter, who presided there, to give him a glass of 'his mixture.'

Pen and his family had been known at the George ever since they came into
the country; and Mr. Pendennis's carriages and horses always put up there
when he paid a visit to the county town. The landlady dropped the heir of
Fairoaks a very respectful curtsey, and complimented him upon his growth
and manly appearance, and asked news of the family at Fairoaks, and of
Doctor Portman and the Clavering people, to all of which questions the
young gentleman answered with much affability. But he spoke to Mr. and
Mrs. Rincer with that sort of good nature with which a young Prince
addresses his father's subjects; never dreaming that those bonnes gens
were his equals in life.

Mr. Foker's behaviour was quite different. He inquired for Rincer and the