"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.
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