It is certain that in his own kingdom of Mayfair and St. James’s my revered uncle was at least the bankers’ equal. On my coming to London, he was kind enough to procure me invitations to some of Lady Anne Newcome’s evening parties in Park Lane, as likewise to Mrs. Newcome’s entertainments in Bryanstone Square; though, I confess, of these latter, after a while, I was a lax and negligent attendant. “Between ourselves, my good fellow,” the shrewd old Mentor of those days would say, “Mrs. Newcome’s parties are not altogether select; nor is she a lady of the very highest breeding; but it gives a man a good air to be seen at his banker’s house. I recommend you to go for a few minutes whenever you are asked.” And go I accordingly did sometimes, though I always fancied, rightly or wrongly, from Mrs. Newcome’s manner to me, that she knew I had but thirty shillings left at the bank. Once and again, in two or three years, Mr. Hobson Newcome would meet me, and ask me to fill a vacant place that day or the next evening at his table; which invitation I might accept or otherwise. But one does not eat a man’s salt, as it were, at these dinners. There is nothing sacred in this kind of London hospitality. Your white waistcoat fills a gap in a man’s table, and retires filled for its service of the evening. “Gad,” the dear old Major used to say, “if we were not to talk freely of those we dine with, how mum London would be! Some of the pleasantest evenings I have ever spent have been when we have sate after a great dinner, _en petit comité_, and abused the people who are gone. You have your turn, _mon cher;_ but why not? Do you suppose I fancy my friends haven’t found out _my_ little faults and peculiarities? And as I can’t help it, I let myself be executed, and offer up my oddities _de bonne grâce. Entre nous_, Brother Hobson Newcome is a good fellow, but a vulgar fellow; and his wife—his wife exactly suits him.” Once a year Lady Anne Newcome (about whom my Mentor was much more circumspect; for I somehow used to remark that as the rank of persons grew higher, Major Pendennis spoke of them with more caution and respect)—once or twice in a year Lady Anne Newcome opened her saloons for a concert and a ball, at both of which the whole street was crowded with carriages, and all the great world, and some of the small, were present. Mrs. Newcome had her ball too, and her concert of English music, in opposition to the Italian singers of her sister-in-law. The music of her country, Mrs. N. said, was good enough for _her_.