“It ain’t no use, Captain. I can’t go about your business,” the check-taker said; on which the Captain swore an oath, and the elder lady said, “Lor, ow provokin!”
As for the young one, she looked up at the Captain and said, “Never mind, Captain Costigan, I’m sure I don’t want to go at all. Come away, mamma.” And with this, although she did not want to go at all, her feelings overcame her, and she began to cry.
“Me poor child!” the Captain said. “Can ye see that, sir, and will ye not let this innocent creature in?”
“It ain’t my business,” cried the doorkeeper, peevishly, out of the illuminated box. And at this minute Arthur came up, and recognising Costigan, said, “Don’t you know me, Captain? Pendennis!” And he took off his hat and made a bow to the two ladies. “Me dear boy! Me dear friend!” cried the Captain, extending towards Pendennis the grasp of friendship; and he rapidly explained to the other what he called “a most unluckee conthratong.” He had an order for Vauxhall, admitting two, from Mr. Hodgen, then within the Gardens, and singing (as he did at the Back Kitchen and the nobility’s concerts, the ‘Body Snatcher,’ the ‘Death of General Wolfe,’ the ‘Banner of Blood,’ and other favourite melodies); and, having this order for the admission of two persons, he thought that it would admit three, and had come accordingly to the Gardens with his friends. But, on his way, Captain Costigan had lost the paper of admission—it was not forthcoming at all; and the leedies must go back again, to the great disappointment of one of them, as Pendennis saw.
Arthur had a great deal of good-nature for everybody, and sympathised with the misfortunes of all sorts of people: how could he refuse his sympathy in such a case as this? He had seen the innocent face as it looked up to the Captain, the appealing look of the girl, the piteous quiver of the mouth, and the final outburst of tears. If it had been his last guinea in the world, he must have paid it to have given the poor little thing pleasure. She turned the sad imploring eyes away directly they lighted upon a stranger, and began to wipe them with her handkerchief. Arthur looked very handsome and kind as he stood before the women, with his hat off, blushing, bowing, generous, a gentleman. “Who are they?” he asked of himself. He thought he had seen the elder lady before.
“If I can be of any service to you, Captain Costigan,” the young man said, “I hope you will command me; is there any difficulty about taking these ladies into the garden? Will you kindly make use of my purse? And—and I have a ticket myself which will admit two—I hope, ma’am, you will permit me?”
The first impulse of the Prince of Fairoaks was to pay for the whole party, and to make away with his newspaper order as poor Costigan had done with his own ticket. But his instinct, and the appearance of the two women, told him that they would be better pleased if he did not give himself the airs of a grand seigneur, and he handed his purse to Costigan, and laughingly pulled out his ticket with one hand, as he offered the other to the elder of the ladies—ladies was not the word—they had bonnets and shawls, and collars and ribbons, and the youngest showed a pretty little foot and boot under her modest grey gown, but his Highness of Fairoaks was courteous to every person who wore a petticoat whatever its texture was, and the humbler the wearer, only the more stately and polite in his demeanour.
“Fanny, take the gentleman’s arm,” the elder said; “Since you will be so very kind—I’ve seen you often come in at our gate, sir, and go in to Captain Strong’s at No. 3.”
Fanny made a little curtsey, and put her hand under Arthur’s arm. It had on a shabby little glove, but it was pretty and small. She was not a child, but she was scarcely a woman as yet; her tears had dried up, and her cheek mantled with youthful blushes, and her eyes glistened with pleasure and gratitude, as she looked up into Arthur’s kind face.
Arthur, in a protecting way, put his other hand upon the little one resting on his arm. “Fanny’s a very pretty little name,” he said, “and so you know me, do you?”