"It's a habit, like taking snuff, or drinking drams," said the other.
"I've been taking her these five years, and can't do without her. It was
I made her. If she doesn't send for me, I shall follow her: but I know
she'll send for me. She wants me. Some day she'll marry, and fling me
over, as I do the end of this cigar."

The little flaming spark dropped into the water below, and disappeared;
and Pen, as he rode home that night, actually thought about somebody but
himself.

CHAPTER XV. The happy Village

Until the enemy had retired altogether from before the place, Major
Pendennis was resolved to keep his garrison in Fairoaks. He did not
appear to watch Pen's behaviour or to put any restraint on his nephew's
actions, but he managed nevertheless to keep the lad constantly under
his eye or those of his agents, and young Arthur's comings and goings
were quite well known to his vigilant guardian.

I suppose there is scarcely any man who reads this or any other novel
but has been baulked in love some time or the other, by fate and
circumstance, by falsehood of women, or his own fault. Let that worthy
friend recall his own sensations under the circumstances, and apply
them as illustrative of Mr. Pen's anguish. Ah! what weary nights and
sickening fevers! Ah! what mad desires dashing up against some rock
of obstruction or indifference, and flung back again from the
unimpressionable granite! If a list could be made this very night in
London of the groans, thoughts, imprecations of tossing lovers, what a
catalogue it would be! I wonder what a percentage of the male population
of the metropolis will be lying awake at two or three o'clock to-morrow
morning, counting the hours as they go by knelling drearily, and rolling
from left to right, restless, yearning and heart-sick? What a pang
it is! I never knew a man die of love certainly, but I have known
a twelve-stone man go down to nine-stone five under a disappointed
passion, so that pretty nearly quarter of him may be said to have
perished: and that is no small portion. He has come back to his old
size subsequently; perhaps is bigger than ever: very likely some new
affection has closed round his heart and ribs and made them comfortable,
and young Pen is a man who will console himself like the rest of us. We
say this lest the ladies should be disposed to deplore him prematurely,
or be seriously uneasy with regard to his complaint. His mother was, but
what will not a mate