In which Mr. Charles Honeyman appears in an Amiable¹ Light

Mr. Frederick Bayham waited at Fitzroy Square while Clive was yet talking with his friends there, and favoured that gentleman with his company home to the usual smoky refreshment². Clive always rejoiced in F. B.‘s society, whether he was in a sportive mood, or, as now, in a solemn and didactic vein³. F. B. had been more than ordinarily majestic⁴ all the evening. “I dare say you find me a good deal altered, Clive,” he remarked; “I am a good deal altered. Since that good Samaritan, your kind father, had compassion⁵ on a poor fellow fallen among thieves (though I don’t say, mind you, he was much better than his company), F. B. has mended some of his ways. I am trying a course of industry, sir. Powers, perhaps naturally great, have been neglected over the wine-cup and the die. I am beginning to feel my way; and my chiefs yonder, who have just walked home with their cigars in their mouths, and without as much as saying, F. B., my boy, shall we go to the Haunt and have a cool lobster⁶ and a glass of table-beer — which they certainly do not consider themselves to be — I say, sir, the Politician and the Literary Critic” (there was a most sarcastic⁸ emphasis laid on these phrases, characterising Messrs. Warrington and Pendennis) “may find that there is a humble⁹ contributor to the Pall¹⁰ Mall Gazette, whose name, may be, the amateur shall one day reckon even higher than their own. Mr. Warrington I do not say so much — he is an able man, sir, an able man; — but there is that about your exceedin self-satisfied friend, Mr. Arthur Pendennis, which — well, well — let time show. You did not — get the —

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