ppearing to
be pleased that the Apothecary, his father, should have saved Major
Pendennis's life, the young man actually looked as if he wished the
event had turned the other way.

"My father, I believe, was a very good doctor," the young gentleman said
by way of reply. "I'm not in that line myself. I wish you good morning,
sir. I've got an appointment--Cos, bye-bye--Miss Fotheringay, good
morning." And, in spite of the young lady's imploring looks and
appealing smiles, the Dragoon bowed stiffly out of the room, and the
clatter of his sabre was heard as he strode down the creaking stair;
and the angry tones of his voice as he cursed little Tom Creed, who was
disporting in the passage, and whose peg-top Sir Derby kicked away with
an oath into the street.

The Major did not smile in the least, though he had every reason to be
amused. "Monstrous handsome young man that--as fine a looking soldier as
ever I saw," he said to Costigan.

"A credit to the army and to human nature in general," answered
Costigan. "A young man of refoined manners, polite affabilitee, and
princely fortune. His table is sumptuous: he's adawr'd in the regiment:
and he rides sixteen stone."

"A perfect champion," said the Major, laughing. "I have no doubt all the
ladies admire him."

"He's very well, in spite of his weight, now he's young," said Milly;
"but he's no conversation."

"He's best on horseback," Mr. Bows said; on which Milly replied,
that the Baronet had ridden third in the steeple-chase on his horse
Tareaways, and the Major began to comprehend that the young lady herself
was not of a particular genius, and to wonder how she should be so
stupid and act so well.

Costigan, with Irish hospitality, of course pressed refreshment upon his
guest: and the Major, who was no more hungry than you are after a Lord
Mayor's dinner, declared that he should like a biscuit and a glass of
wine above all things, as he felt quite faint from long fasting--but he
knew that to receive small kindnesses flatters the donors very much, and
that people must needs grow well disposed towards you as they give you
their hospitality.

"Some of the old Madara, Milly, love," Costigan said, winking to his
child--and that lady, turning to her father a glance of intelligence,
went out of the room, and down the stair, where she softly summoned her
little emissary Master Tommy Creed: and giving him a piece of money,
ordered him to go buy a pint of Madara wine at the Gr