nd there indeed was Mr. Foker, the only occupant of
the place. He was rubbing his eyes, and sate before a table rated with
empty decanters and relics of dessert. He had intended to go to the play
too, but sleep had overtaken him after a copious meal, and he had flung
up his legs on the bench, and indulged in a nap instead of the dramatic
amusement. The Major was meditating how to address the young man, but
the latter prevented him that trouble.

"Like to look at the evening paper, sir?" said Mr. Foker, who was always
communicative and affable; and he took up the Globe from his table, and
offered it to the new-comer.

"I am very much obliged to you," said the Major, with a grateful bow and
smile. "If I don't mistake the family likeness, I have the pleasure
of speaking to Mr. Henry Foker, Lady Agnes Foker's son. I have the
happiness to name her ladyship among my acquaintances--and you bear,
sir, a Rosherville face."

"Hullo! I beg your pardon," Mr. Foker said, "I took you,"--he was going
to say--"I took you for a commercial gent." But he stopped that phrase.
"To whom have I the pleasure of speaking?" he added.

"To a relative of a friend and schoolfellow of yours--Arthur Pendennis,
my nephew, who has often spoken to me about you in terms of great
regard. I am Major Pendennis, of whom you may have heard him speak. May
I take my soda-water at your table? I have had the pleasure of sitting
at your grandfather's."

"Sir, you do me proud," said Mr. Foker, with much courtesy. "And so you
are Arthur Pendennis's uncle, are you?"

"And guardian," added the Major.

"He's as good a fellow as ever stepped, sir," said Mr. Foker.

"I am glad you think so."

"And clever, too--I was always a stupid chap, I was--but you see, sir, I
know 'em when they are clever, and like 'em of that sort."

"You show your taste and your modesty, too," said the Major. "I have
heard Arthur repeatedly speak of you, and he said your talents were very
good."

"I'm not good at the books," Mr. Foker said, wagging his head--"never
could manage that--Pendennis could--he used to do half the chaps'
verses--and yet"--the young gentleman broke out, "you are his guardian;
and I hope you will pardon me for saying that I think he's what we call
flat," the candid young gentleman said.

The Major found himself on the instant in the midst of a most
interesting and confidential conversation. "And how is Arthur a flat?"
he asked, with a smile.

"You know," Fo