The two young gentlemen continued their walk, and were passing round the Cathedral Yard, where they could hear the music of the afternoon service (a music which always exceedingly impressed and affected Pen), but whither Mr. Foker came for the purpose of inspecting the nursery-maids who frequent the Elms Walk there, and who are uncommonly pretty at Chatteris, and here they strolled until with a final burst of music the small congregation was played out. 

 Old Doctor Portman was one of the few who came from the venerable gate. Spying Pen, he came and shook him by the hand, and eyed with wonder Pen’s friend, from whose mouth and cigar clouds of fragrance issued, which curled round the Doctor’s honest face and shovel hat. 

 “An old schoolfellow of mine, Mr. Foker,” said Pen. The Doctor said “H’m”: and scowled at the cigar. He did not mind a pipe in his study, but the cigar was an abomination to the worthy gentleman. 

 “I came up on Bishop’s business,” the Doctor said. “We’ll ride home, Arthur, if you like?” 

 “I—I’m engaged to my friend here,” Pen answered. 

 “You had better come home with me,” said the Doctor. 

 “His mother knows he’s out, sir,” Mr. Foker remarked; “don’t she, Pendennis?” 

 “But that does not prove that he had not better come home with me,” the Doctor growled, and he walked off with great dignity. 

 “Old boy don’t like the weed, I suppose,” Foker said. “Ha! who’s here?—here’s the General, and Bingley, the manager. How do, Cos? How do, Bingley?” 

 “How does my worthy and gallant young Foker?” said the gentleman addressed as the General; and who wore a shabby military cape with a mangy collar, and a hat cocked very much over one eye. 

 “Trust you are very well, my very dear sir,” said the other gentleman, “and that the Theatre Royal will have the honour of your patronage to-night. We perform ‘The Stranger,’ in which your humble servant will—-” 

 “Can’t stand you in tights and Hessians, Bingley,” young Mr. Foker said. On which the General, with the Irish accent, said, “But I think ye’ll like Miss Fotheringay, in Mrs. Haller, or me name’s not Jack Costigan.” 

 Pen looked at these individuals with the greatest interest. He had never seen an actor before; and he saw Dr. Portman’s red face looking over the Doctor’s shoulder, as he 

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