n't
fancy seeing one of our family sticking up pictures for sale. I don't
like it, Barnes."

"Hush! here comes his distinguished friend, Mr. Pendennis," whispers
Barnes; and the uncle growling out, "Damn all literary fellows--all
artists--the whole lot of them!" turns away. Barnes waves three languid
fingers of recognition towards Pendennis: and when the uncle and nephew
have moved out of the club newspaper room, little Tom Eaves comes up and
tells the present reporter every word of their conversation.

Very soon Mrs. Newcome announced that their Indian brother found the
society of Bryanstone Square very little to his taste, as indeed how
should he? being a man of a good harmless disposition certainly, but
of small intellectual culture. It could not be helped. She had done her
utmost to make him welcome, and grieved that their pursuits were not
more congenial. She heard that he was much more intimate in Park Lane.
Possibly the superior rank of Lady Anne's family might present charms
to Colonel Newcome, who fell asleep at her assemblies. His boy, she was
afraid, was leading the most irregular life. He was growing a pair of
mustachios, and going about with all sorts of wild associates. She found
no fault; who was she, to find fault with any one? But she had been
compelled to hint that her children must not be too intimate with him.
And so, between one brother who meant no unkindness, and another who was
all affection and goodwill, this undoubting woman created difference,
distrust, dislike, which might one day possibly lead to open rupture.
The wicked are wicked, no doubt, and they go astray and they fall, and
they come by their deserts: but who can tell the mischief which the very
virtuous do?

To her sister-in-law, Lady Anne, the Colonel's society was more welcome.
The affectionate gentleman never tired of doing kindnesses to his
brother's many children; and as Mr. Clive's pursuits now separated him a
good deal from his father, the Colonel, not perhaps without a sigh that
fate should so separate him from the society which he loved best in the
world, consoled himself as best he might with his nephews and nieces,
especially with Ethel, for whom his belle passion conceived at first
sight never diminished. If Uncle Newcome had a hundred children, Ethel
said, who was rather jealous of disposition, he would spoil them all.
He found a fine occupation in breaking a pretty little horse for her, of
which he made her a present,