Amongst them, silent and alone, pale, with his hands in his pockets, and a rueful nod of the head to Arthur as they met, passed Henry Foker, Esq. Young Henry was trying to ease his mind by moving from place to place, and from excitement to excitement. But he thought about Blanche as he sauntered in the dark walks; he thought about Blanche as he looked at the devices of the lamps. He consulted the fortune-teller about her, and was disappointed when that gipsy told him that he was in love with a dark lady who would make him happy; and at the concert, though Mr. Momus sang his most stunning comic songs, and asked his most astonishing riddles, never did a kind smile come to visit Foker’s lips. In fact, he never heard Mr. Momus at all.
Pen and Miss Bolton were hard by listening to the same concert, and the latter remarked, and Pen laughed at Mr. Foker’s woebegone face.
Fanny asked what it was that made that odd-looking little man so dismal? “I think he is crossed in love!” Pen, said. “Isn’t that enough to make any man dismal, Fanny?” And he looked down at her, splendidly protecting her, like Egmont at Clara in Goethe’s play, or Leicester at Amy in Scott’s novel.
“Crossed in love is he? poor gentleman,” said Fanny with a sigh, and her eyes turned round towards him with no little kindness and pity—but Harry did not see the beautiful dark eyes.
“How dy do, Mr. Pendennis!”—a voice broke in here—it was that of a young man in a large white coat with a red neckcloth, over which a dingy shirt-collar was turned so as to exhibit a dubious neck—with a large pin of bullion or other metal, and an imaginative waistcoat with exceedingly fanciful glass buttons, and trousers that cried with a loud voice, “Come look at me and see how cheap and tawdry I am; my master, what a dirty buck!” and a little stick in one pocket of his coat, and a lady in pink satin on the other arm—“How dy do—Forget me, I dare say? Huxter,—Clavering.”
“How do you do, Mr. Huxter,” the Prince of Fairoaks said in his most princely manner—“I hope you are very well.”
“Pretty bobbish, thanky.”—And Mr. Huxter wagged his head. “I say, Pendennis, you’ve been coming it uncommon strong since we had the row at Wapshot’s, don’t you remember. Great author, hay? Go about with the swells. Saw your name in the Morning Post. I suppose you’re too much of a swell to come and have a bit of supper with an old friend?—Charterhouse Lane to-morrow night,—some devilish good fellows from Bartholomew’s, and some stunning gin-punch. Here’s my card.” And with this Mr. Huxter released his hand from the pocket where his cane was, and pulling off the top of his card-case with his teeth produced thence a visiting ticket, which he handed to Pen.
“You are exceedingly kind, I am sure,” said Pen: “but I regret that I have an engagement which will take me out of town to-morrow night.” And the Marquis of Fairoaks, wondering that such a creature as this could have the audacity to give him a card, put Mr. Huxter’s card into his waistcoat pocket with a lofty courtesy. Possibly Mr. Samuel Huxter was not aware that there was any great social difference between Mr. Arthur Pendennis and himself. Mr. Huxter’s father was a surgeon and apothecary at Clavering just as Mr. Pendennis’s papa had been a surgeon and apothecary at Bath. But the impudence of some men is beyond all calculation.
“Well, old fellow, never mind,” said Mr. Huxter, who, always frank and familiar, was from vinous excitement even more affable than usual. “If ever you are passing, look up our place, I’m mostly at home Saturdays; and there’s generally a cheese cupboard. Ta, ta.—There’s the bell for the fireworks ringing. Come along, Mary.” And he set off running with the rest of the crowd in the direction of the fireworks.
So did Pen presently, when this agreeable youth was out of sight, begin to run with his little companion; Mrs. Bolton following after them, with Captain Costigan at her side. But the Captain was too majestic and dignified in his movements to run for friend or enemy, and he pursued his course with the usual jaunty swagger which distinguished his steps, so that he and his companion were speedily distanced by Pen and Miss Fanny.