"A man might go farther and fare worse, Arthur," the major said, still
looking queerly at his nephew.

"Her birth, sir; her father was the mate of a ship, they say; and she
has not money enough," objected Pen, in a dandyfied manner. "What's
ten thousand pound and a girl bred up like her?"

"You use my own words, and it is all very well. But, I tell you in
confidence, Pen--in strict honor, mind--that it's my belief she has a
devilish deal more than ten thousand pound: and from what I saw of her
the other day, and--and have heard of her--I should say she was a
devilish accomplished, clever girl: and would make a good wife with a
sensible husband."

"How do you know about her money?" Pen asked, smiling. "You seem to
have information about every body, and to know about all the town."

"I do know a few things, sir, and I don't tell all I know. Mark that,"
the uncle replied. "And as for that charming Miss Amory--for
charming, begad! she is--if I saw her Mrs. Arthur Pendennis, I should
neither be sorry nor surprised, begad! and if you object to ten
thousand pound, what would you say, sir, to thirty, or forty, or
fifty?" and the major looked still more knowingly, and still harder
at Pen.

"Well, sir," he said, to his godfather and namesake, "make her Mrs.
Arthur Pendennis. You can do it as well as I."

"Psha! you are laughing at me, sir," the other replied, rather
peevishly, and you ought not to laugh so near a church gate. "Here we