"Can't stand you in tights and Hessians, Bingley," young Mr. Foker said.
On which the General, with the Irish accent, said, "But I think ye'll
like Miss Fotheringay, in Mrs. Haller, or me name's not Jack Costigan."

Pen looked at these individuals with the greatest interest. He had never
seen an actor before; and he saw Dr. Portman's red face looking over the
Doctor's shoulder, as he retreated from the Cathedral Yard, evidently
quite dissatisfied with the acquaintances into whose hands Pen had
fallen.

Perhaps it would have been much better for him had he taken the parson's
advice and company home. But which of us knows his fate?




CHAPTER IV

Mrs. Haller


Having returned to the George, Mr. Foker and his guest sate down to a
handsome repast in the coffee-room; where Mr. Rincer brought in the first
dish, and bowed as gravely as if he was waiting upon the Lord-Lieutenant
of the county. Mr. Foker attacked the turtle and venison with as much
gusto as he had shown the year before, when he used to make feasts off
ginger-beer and smuggled polonies. Pen could not but respect his
connoisseurship as he pronounced the champagne to be condemned
gooseberry, and winked at the port with one eye. The latter he declared