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The　Pupil



by　Henry　James












CHAPTER　I







The　poor　young　man　hesitated　and　procrastinated：　　it　cost　him　such

an　effort　to　broach　the　subject　of　terms；　to　speak　of　money　to　a

person　who　spoke　only　of　feelings　and；　as　it　were；　of　the

aristocracy。　　Yet　he　was　unwilling　to　take　leave；　treating　his

engagement　as　settled；　without　some　more　conventional　glance　in

that　direction　than　he　could　find　an　opening　for　in　the　manner　of

the　large　affable　lady　who　sat　there　drawing　a　pair　of　soiled　gants

de　Suede　through　a　fat　jewelled　hand　and；　at　once　pressing　and

gliding；　repeated　over　and　over　everything　but　the　thing　he　would

have　liked　to　hear。　　He　would　have　liked　to　hear　the　figure　of　his

salary；　but　just　as　he　was　nervously　about　to　sound　that　note　the

little　boy　came　back　…　the　little　boy　Mrs。　Moreen　had　sent　out　of

the　room　to　fetch　her　fan。　　He　came　back　without　the　fan；　only　with

the　casual　observation　that　he　couldn't　find　it。　　As　he　dropped

this　cynical　confession　he　looked　straight　and　hard　at　the

candidate　for　the　honour　of　taking　his　education　in　hand。　　This

personage　reflected　somewhat　grimly　that　the　thing　he　should　have

to　teach　his　little　charge　would　be　to　appear　to　address　himself　to

his　mother　when　he　spoke　to　her　…　especially　not　to　make　her　such

an　improper　answer　as　that。



When　Mrs。　Moreen　bethought　herself　of　this　pretext　for　getting　rid

of　their　companion　Pemberton　supposed　it　was　precisely　to　approach

the　delicate　subject　of　his　remuneration。　　But　it　had　been　only　to

say　some　things　about　her　son　that　it　was　better　a　boy　of　eleven

shouldn't　catch。　　They　were　extravagantly　to　his　advantage　save

when　she　lowered　her　voice　to　sigh；　tapping　her　left　side

familiarly；　〃And　all　overclouded　by　THIS；　you　know；　all　at　the

mercy　of　a　weakness　…　！〃　　Pemberton　gathered　that　the　weakness　was

in　the　region　of　the　heart。　　He　had　known　the　poor　child　was　not

robust：　　this　was　the　basis　on　which　he　had　been　invited　to　treat；

through　an　English　lady；　an　Oxford　acquaintance；　then　at　Nice；　who

happened　to　know　both　his　needs　and　those　of　the　amiable　American

family　looking　out　for　something　really　superior　in　the　way　of　a

resident　tutor。



The　young　man's　impression　of　his　prospective　pupil；　who　had　come

into　the　room　as　if　to　see　for　himself　the　moment　Pemberton　was

admitted；　was　not　quite　the　soft　solicitation　the　visitor　had　taken

for　granted。　　Morgan　Moreen　was　somehow　sickly　without　being

〃delicate；〃　and　that　he　looked　intelligent　…　it　is　true　Pemberton

wouldn't　have　enjoyed　his　being　stupid　…　only　added　to　the

suggestion　that；　as　with　his　big　mouth　and　big　ears　he　really

couldn't　be　called　pretty；　he　might　too　utterly　fail　to　please。

Pemberton　was　modest；　was　even　timid；　and　the　chance　that　his　small

scholar　might　prove　cleverer　than　himself　had　quite　figured；　to　his

anxiety；　among　the　dangers　of　an　untried　experiment。　　He　reflected；

however；　that　these　were　risks　one　had　to　run　when　one　accepted　a

position；　as　it　was　called；　in　a　private　family；　when　as　yet　one's

university　honours　had；　pecuniarily　speaking；　remained　barren。　　At

any　rate　when　Mrs。　Moreen　got　up　as　to　intimate　that；　since　it　was

understood　he　would　enter　upon　his　duties　within　the　week　she　would

let　him　off　now；　he　succeeded；　in　spite　of　the　presence　of　the

child；　in　squeezing　out　a　phrase　about　the　rate　of　payment。　　It　was

not　the　fault　of　the　conscious　smile　which　seemed　a　reference　to

the　lady's　expensive　identity；　it　was　not　the　fault　of　this

demonstration；　which　had；　in　a　sort；　both　vagueness　and　point；　if

the　allusion　didn't　sound　rather　vulgar。　　This　was　exactly　because

she　became　still　more　gracious　to　reply：　　〃Oh　I　can　assure　you　that

all　that　will　be　quite　regular。〃



Pemberton　only　wondered；　while　he　took　up　his　hat；　what　〃all　that〃

was　to　amount　to　…　people　had　such　different　ideas。　　Mrs。　Moreen's

words；　however；　seemed　to　commit　the　family　to　a　pledge　definite

enough　to　elicit　from　the　child　a　strange　little　comment　in　the

shape　of　the　mocking　foreign　ejaculation　〃Oh　la…la！〃



Pemberton；　in　some　confusion；　glanced　at　him　as　he　walked　slowly　to

the　window　with　his　back　turned；　his　hands　in　his　pockets　and　the

air　in　his　elderly　shoulders　of　a　boy　who　didn't　play。　　The　young

man　wondered　if　he　should　be　able　to　teach　him　to　play；　though　his

mother　had　said　it　would　never　do　and　that　this　was　why　school　was

impossible。　　Mrs。　Moreen　exhibited　no　discomfiture；　she　only

continued　blandly：　　〃Mr。　Moreen　will　be　delighted　to　meet　your

wishes。　　As　I　told　you；　he　has　been　called　to　London　for　a　week。

As　soon　as　he　comes　back　you　shall　have　it　out　with　him。〃



This　was　so　frank　and　friendly　that　the　young　man　could　only　reply；

laughing　as　his　hostess　laughed：　　〃Oh　I　don't　imagine　we　shall　have

much　of　a　battle。〃



〃They'll　give　you　anything　you　like；〃　the　boy　remarked

unexpectedly；　returning　from　the　window。　　〃We　don't　mind　what

anything　costs　…　we　live　awfully　well。〃



〃My　darling；　you're　too　quaint！〃　his　mother　exclaimed；　putting　out

to　caress　him　a　practised　but　ineffectual　hand。　　He　slipped　out　of

it；　but　looked　with　intelligent　innocent　eyes　at　Pemberton；　who　had

already　had　time　to　notice　that　from　one　moment　to　the　other　his

small　satiric　face　seemed　to　change　its　time　of　life。　　At　this

moment　it　was　infantine；　yet　it　appeared　also　to　be　under　the

influence　of　curious　intuitions　and　knowledges。　　Pemberton　rather

disliked　precocity　and　was　disappointed　to　find　gleams　of　it　in　a

disciple　not　yet　in　his　teens。　　Nevertheless　he　divined　on　the　spot

that　Morgan　wouldn't　prove　a　bore。　　He　would　prove　on　the　contrary

a　source　of　agitation。　　This　idea　held　the　young　man；　in　spite　of　a

certain　repulsion。



〃You　pompous　little　person！　　We're　not　extravagant！〃　　Mrs。　Moreen

gaily　protested；　making　another　unsuccessful　attempt　to　draw　the

boy　to　her　side。　　〃You　must　know　what　to　expect；〃　she　went　on　to

Pemberton。



〃The　less　you　expect　the　better！〃　her　companion　interposed。　　〃But

we　ARE　people　of　fashion。〃



〃Only　so　far　as　YOU　make　us　so！〃　Mrs。　Moreen　tenderly　mocked。

〃Well　then；　on　Friday　…　don't　tell　me　you're　superstitious　…　and

mind　you　don't　fail　us。　　Then　you'll　see　us　all。　　I'm　so　sorry　the

girls　are　out。　　I　guess　you'll　like　the　girls。　　And；　you　know；　I've

another　son；　quite　different　from　this　one。〃



〃He　tries　to　imitate　me；〃　Morgan　said　to　their　friend。



〃He　tries？　　Why　he's　twenty　years　old！〃　cried　Mrs。　Moreen。



〃You're　very　witty；〃　Pemberton　remarked　to　the　child　…　a

proposition　his　mother　echoed　with　enthusiasm；　declaring　Morgan's

sallies　to　be　the　delight　of　the　house。



The　boy　paid　no　heed　to　this；　he　only　enquired　abruptly　of　the

visitor；　who　was　surprised　afterwards　that　he　hadn't　struck　him　as

offensively　forward：　　〃Do　you　WANT　very　much　to　come？〃



〃Can　you　doubt　it　after　such　a　description　of　what　I　shall　hear？〃

Pemberton　replied。　　Yet　he　didn't　want　to　come　at　all；　he　was

coming　because　he　had　to　go　somewhere；　thanks　to　the　collapse　of

his　fortune　at　the　end　of　a　year　abroad　spent　on　the　system　of

putting　his　scant　patrimony　into　a　single　full　wave　of　experience。

He　had　had　his　full　wave　but　couldn't　pay　the　score　at　his　inn。

Moreover　he　had　caught　in　the　boy's　eyes　the　glimpse　of　a　far…off

appeal。



〃Well；　I'll　do　the　best　I　can　for　you；〃　said　Morgan；　with　which　he

turned　away　again。　　He　passed　out　of　one　of　the　long　windows；

Pemberton　saw　him　go　and　lean　on　the　parapet　of　the　terrace。　　He

remained　there　while　the　young　man　took　leave　of　his　mother；　who；

on　Pemberton's　looking　as　if　he　expected　a　farewell　from　him；

interposed　with：　　〃Leave　him；　leave　him；　he's　so　strange！〃

Pemberton　supposed　her　to　fear　something　he　might　say。　　〃He's　a

genius　…　you'll　love　him；〃　she　added。　　〃He's　much　the　most

interesting　person　in　the　family。〃　　And　before　he　could　invent　some

civility　to　oppose　to　this　she　wound　up　with：　　〃But　we're　all　good；

you　know！〃



〃He's　a　genius　…　you'll　love　him！〃　were　words　that　recurred　to　our

aspirant　before　the　Friday；　suggesting　among　many　things　that

geniuses　were　not　invariably　loveable。　　However；　it　was　all　the

better　if　there　was　an　element　that　would　make　tutorship　absorbing：

he　had　perhaps　taken　too　much　for　granted　it　would　only　disgust

him。　　As　he　left　the　villa　after　his　interview　he　looked　up　at　the

balcony　and　saw　the　child　leaning　over　it。　　〃We　shall　have　great

larks！〃　he　called　up。



Morgan　hung　fire　a　moment　and　then　gaily　returned：　　〃By　the　time

you　come　back　I　shall　have　thought　of　something　witty！〃



This　made　Pemberton　say　to　himself　〃After　all　he's　rather　nice。〃







CHAPTER　II







On　the　Friday　he　saw　them　all；　as　Mrs。　Moreen　had　promised；　for　her

husband　had　come　back　and　the　girls　and　the　other　son　were　at　home。

Mr。　Moreen　had　a　white　moustache；　a　confiding　manner　and；　in　his

buttonhole；　the　ribbon　of　a　foreign　order　…　bestowed；　as　Pemberton

eventually　learned；　for　services。　　For　what　services　he　never

clearly　ascertained：　　this　was　a　point　…　one　of　a　large　number　…

that　Mr。　Moreen's　manner　never　confided。　　What　it　emphatically　did

confide　was　that　he　was　even　more　a　man　of　the　world　than　you　might

first　make　out。　　Ulick；　the　firstborn；　was　in　visible　training　for

the　same　profession　…　under　the　disadvantage　as　yet；　however；　of　a

buttonhole　but　feebly　floral　and　a　moustache　with　no　pretensions　to

type。　　The　girls　had　hair　and　figures　and　manners　and　small　fat

feet；　but　had　never　been　out　alone。　　As　for　Mrs。　Moreen　Pemberton

saw　on　a　nearer　view　that　her　elegance　was　intermittent　and　her

parts　didn't　always　match。　　Her　husband；　as　she　had　promised；　met

with　enthusiasm　Pemberton's　ideas　in　regard　to　a　salary。　　The　young

man　had　endeavoured　to　keep　these　stammerings　modest；　and　Mr。

Moreen　made　it　no　secret　that　HE　found　them　wanting　in　〃style。〃　　He

further　m