chairs in his boxes. 

 As he lay on the bank reading, his servant, Francis, made remarks upon his master. 

 “Again reading,” said Francis, “thus it is, from morn to night. To him nature has no beauty—life no charm. For three years I have never seen him smile” (the gloom of Bingley’s face was fearful to witness during these comments of the faithful domestic). “Nothing diverts him. O, if he would but attach himself to any living thing, were it an animal—for something man must love.” 

 [Enter Tobias (Goll) from the hut.] He cries, “O, how refreshing, after seven long weeks, to feel these warm sunbeams once again. Thanks, bounteous heaven, for the joy I taste!” He presses his cap between his hands, looks up and prays. The Stranger eyes him attentively. 

 Francis to the Stranger. “This old man’s share of earthly happiness can be but little. Yet mark how grateful he is for his portion of it.” 

 Bingley. “Because though old, he is but a child in the leading-string of hope.” (He looks steadily at Foker, who, however, continues to suck the top of his stick in an unconcerned manner.) 

 Francis. “Hope is the nurse of life.” 

 Bingley. “And her cradle—is the grave.” 

 The Stranger uttered this with the moan of a bassoon in agony, and fixed his eyes on Pendennis so steadily, that the poor lad was quite put out of countenance. He thought the whole house must be looking at him; and cast his eyes down. As soon as ever he raised them Bingley’s were at him again. All through the scene the manager played at him. When he was about to do a good action, and sent off Francis with his book, so that that domestic should not witness the deed of benevolence which he meditated, Bingley marked the page carefully, so that he might continue the perusal of the volume off the stage if he liked. But all was done in the direct face of Pendennis, whom the manager was bent upon subjugating. How relieved the lad was when the scene ended, and Foker, tapping with his cane, cried out “Bravo, Bingley!” 

 “Give him a hand, Pendennis; you know every chap likes a hand,” Mr. Foker said; and the good-natured young gentleman, and Pendennis laughing, and the dragoons in the opposite box, began clapping hands to the best of their power. 

 A chamber in Wintersen Castle closed over Tobias’s hut and the Stranger and his boots; and 

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