Outside View of Colonel Newcome's Rooms by F. Hopkinson Smith. 1913. Photographic reproduction of charcoal on paper from In Thackeray's London, p. 7. Scanned image, formatting and text by George P. Landow. [You may use this image without prior permission for any scholarly or educational purpose as long as you credit and link your document to this URL in a web document or cite the Victorian Web in a print one.]
We had reached it at last — the very street that thr Colonel had trod on his daily walks to the city, Pendennis and Clive sometimes beside him, their anguished hearts full of an unspoken tenderness. Ethel, too — brave, loyal Ethel, who had discovered the letter bequeathing her "dear, dear uncle" £500," had passed through this very gate eager to carry the news to the Colonel. Pendennis, on whose arm she entered, was a happy man that day.
"As we traversed the court the Poor Brothers were coming from dinner," he says. "A couple of score, or more, of old gentlemen in black gowns issued from the door of their refectory and separated over the court, betaking themselves to their chambers. Ethel's arm trembled under mine as she looked at one and another, expecting to behold her dear uncle's familiar features. But he was not among the brethren. We went to his chamber, of which the door was open; a female attendant was arranging the room; she told us Colonel Newcome was out for the day, and thus our journey had been in vain." [3-4; the quotation comes of course from Thackeray's Pendennis.]
References
Smith, F. Hopkinson. & In Thackeray's London. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, Page & Company, 1916.
Last modified 9 July 2012