“Indeed.”
“She sent me to you,” continued the young surgeon.
“What, Fanny? Is she well? I was coming to see her, but I have had a great deal of business since my return to London.”
“I heard of you through my governor and Jack Hobnell,” broke in Huxter. “I wish you joy, Mr. Pendennis, both of the borough and the lady, sir. Fanny wishes you joy, too,” he added, with something of a blush.
“There’s many a slip between the cup and the lip! Who knows what may happen, Mr. Huxter, or who will sit in Parliament for Clavering next session?”
“You can do anything with my governor,” continued Mr. Huxter. “You got him Clavering Park. The old boy was very much pleased, sir, at your calling him in. Hobnell wrote me so. Do you think you could speak to the governor for me, Mr. Pendennis?”
“And tell him what?”
“I’ve gone and done it, sir,” said Huxter, with a particular look.
“You—you don’t mean to say you have—you have done any wrong to that dear little creature, sir?” said Pen, starting up in a great fury.
“I hope not,” said Huxter, with a hangdog look: “but I’ve married her. And I know there will be an awful shindy at home. It was agreed that I should be taken into partnership when I had passed the College, and it was to have been Huxter and Son. But I would have it, confound it. It’s all over now, and the old boy’s wrote me that he’s coming up to town for drugs: he will be here to-morrow, and then it must all come out.”