At last it came to be this letter's turn, and the major broke a seal with "Fairoaks" engraved upon it, and "Clavering St. Mary's" for a post-mark. It was a double letter, and the major commenced perusing the envelope before he attacked the inner epistle. "Is it a letter from another _Jook_?" growled Mr. Glowry, inwardly, "Pendennis would not be leaving that to the last, I'm thinking." "My dear Major Pendennis," the letter ran, "I beg and implore you to come to me _immediately_"--very likely, thought Pendennis, and Steyne's dinner to-day--"I am in the very greatest grief and perplexity. My dearest boy, who has been hitherto every thing the fondest mother could wish, is grieving me _dreadfully_. He has formed--I can hardly write it--a passion, an infatuation,"--the major grinned--"for an actress who has been performing here. She is at least twelve years older than Arthur--who will not be eighteen till next February--and the wretched boy insists upon marrying her." "Hay! What's making Pendennis swear now?"--Mr. Glowry asked of himself, for rage and wonder were concentrated in the major's open mouth, as he read this astounding announcement. "Do, my dear friend," the grief-stricken lady went on, "come to me instantly on the receipt of this; and, as Arthur's guardian, entreat, command, the wretched child to give up this most deplorable resolution." And, after more entreaties to the above effect, the writer concluded by signing herself the major's "unhappy affectionate sister, Helen Pendennis." "Fairoaks, Tuesday"--the major concluded, reading the last words of the letter--"A d--d pretty business at Fairoaks, Tuesday; now let us see what the boy has to say;" and he took the other letter, which was written in a great floundering boy's hand, and sealed with the large signet of the Pendennises, even larger than the major's own, and with supplementary wax sputtered all round the seal, in token of the writer's tremulousness and agitation. The epistle ran thus-- "Fairoaks, "_Monday, Midnight_. "My dear Uncle,