went to bring him his toast and his hot newspaper, he surveyed his
letters through his gold double eye-glass. He carried it so gaily, you
would hardly have known it was spectacles in disguise, and examined one
pretty note after another, and laid them by in order. There were large
solemn dinner cards, suggestive of three courses and heavy conversation;
there were neat little confidential notes, conveying female entreaties;
there was a note on thick official paper from the Marquis of Steyne,
telling him to come to Richmond to a little party at the Star and Garter,
and speak French, which language the Major possessed very perfectly; and
another from the Bishop of Ealing and Mrs. Trail, requesting the honour
of Major Pendennis's company at Ealing House, all of which letters
Pendennis read gracefully, and with the more satisfaction, because
Glowry, the Scotch surgeon, breakfasting opposite to him, was looking on,
and hating him for having so many invitations, which nobody ever sent to
Glowry.

These perused, the Major took out his pocket-book to see on what days he
was disengaged, and which of these many hospitable calls he could afford
to accept or decline.

He threw over Cutler, the East India Director, in Baker Street, in order
to dine with Lord Steyne and the little French party at the Star and
Garter--the Bishop he accepted, because, though the dinner was slow, he
liked to dine with bishops--and so went through his list and disposed of
them according to his fancy or interest. Then he took his breakfast and
looked over the paper, the gazette, the births and deaths, and the
fashionable intelligence, to see that his name was down among the guests
at my Lord So-and-so's fete, and in the intervals of these occupations
carried on cheerful conversation with his acquaintances about the room.