"I agree with so fair an authority," said the old gentleman with a bow.
"And—and suppose, sir," Pen said, "that I had a piece of news to communicate to you."
"God bless my soul, Mr. Pendennis! what do you mean?" asked the old gentleman.
"Suppose I had to tell you that a young man carried away by an irresistible passion for an admirable and most virtuous young creature—whom every body falls in love with—had consulted the dictates of reason and his heart, and had married. Suppose I were to tell you that that man is my friend; that our excellent, our truly noble friend the Countess Dowager of Rockminster is truly interested about him (and you may fancy what a young man can do in life when THAT family is interested for him); suppose I were to tell you that you know him—that he is here—that he is—"
"Sam, married! God bless my soul, sir, you don't mean that!"
"And to such a nice creature, dear Mr. Huxter."
"His lordship is charmed with her," said Pen, telling almost the first fib which he has told in the course of this story.
"Married! the rascal, is he?" thought the old gentleman. "They will do it, sir," said Pen; and went and opened the door. Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Huxter issued thence, and both came and knelt down before the old gentleman. The kneeling little Fanny found favor in his sight. There must have been something attractive about her, in spite of Laura's opinion.
"Will never do so any more, sir," said Sam.
"Get up, sir," said Mr. Huxter. And they got up, and Fanny came a little nearer and a little nearer still, and looked so pretty and pitiful, that somehow Mr. Huxter found himself kissing the little crying-laughing thing, and feeling as if he liked it.