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the　party；　there　was　even　one　apiece；　embittering　the　thought　of

his　profusion；　for　Mr。　Moreen　and　Ulick。　　〃They're　all　like　that；〃

was　Morgan's　comment；　〃at　the　very　last；　just　when　we　think　we've

landed　them　they're　back　in　the　deep　sea！〃



Morgan's　comments　in　these　days　were　more　and　more　free；　they　even

included　a　large　recognition　of　the　extraordinary　tenderness　with

which　he　had　been　treated　while　Pemberton　was　away。　　Oh　yes；　they

couldn't　do　enough　to　be　nice　to　him；　to　show　him　they　had　him　on

their　mind　and　make　up　for　his　loss。　　That　was　just　what　made　the

whole　thing　so　sad　and　caused　him　to　rejoice　after　all　in

Pemberton's　return　…　he　had　to　keep　thinking　of　their　affection

less；　had　less　sense　of　obligation。　　Pemberton　laughed　out　at　this

last　reason；　and　Morgan　blushed　and　said：　　〃Well；　dash　it；　you　know

what　I　mean。〃　　Pemberton　knew　perfectly　what　he　meant；　but　there

were　a　good　many　things　that　…　dash　it　too！　…　it　didn't　make　any

clearer。　　This　episode　of　his　second　sojourn　in　Paris　stretched

itself　out　wearily；　with　their　resumed　readings　and　wanderings　and

maunderings；　their　potterings　on　the　quays；　their　hauntings　of　the

museums；　their　occasional　lingerings　in　the　Palais　Royal　when　the

first　sharp　weather　came　on　and　there　was　a　comfort　in　warm

emanations；　before　Chevet's　wonderful　succulent　window。　　Morgan

wanted　to　hear　all　about　the　opulent　youth　…　he　took　an　immense

interest　in　him。　　Some　of　the　details　of　his　opulence　…　Pemberton

could　spare　him　none　of　them　…　evidently　fed　the　boy's　appreciation

of　all　his　friend　had　given　up　to　come　back　to　him；　but　in　addition

to　the　greater　reciprocity　established　by　that　heroism　he　had

always　his　little　brooding　theory；　in　which　there　was　a　frivolous

gaiety　too；　that　their　long　probation　was　drawing　to　a　close。

Morgan's　conviction　that　the　Moreens　couldn't　go　on　much　longer

kept　pace　with　the　unexpended　impetus　with　which；　from　month　to

month；　they　did　go　on。　　Three　weeks　after　Pemberton　had　rejoined

them　they　went　on　to　another　hotel；　a　dingier　one　than　the　first；

but　Morgan　rejoiced　that　his　tutor　had　at　least　still　not

sacrificed　the　advantage　of　a　room　outside。　　He　clung　to　the

romantic　utility　of　this　when　the　day；　or　rather　the　night；　should

arrive　for　their　escape。



For　the　first　time；　in　this　complicated　connexion；　our　friend　felt

his　collar　gall　him。　　It　was；　as　he　had　said　to　Mrs。　Moreen　in

Venice；　trop　fort　…　everything　was　trop　fort。　　He　could　neither

really　throw　off　his　blighting　burden　nor　find　in　it　the　benefit　of

a　pacified　conscience　or　of　a　rewarded　affection。　　He　had　spent　all

the　money　accruing　to　him　in　England；　and　he　saw　his　youth　going

and　that　he　was　getting　nothing　back　for　it。　　It　was　all　very　well

of　Morgan　to　count　it　for　reparation　that　he　should　now　settle　on

him　permanently　…　there　was　an　irritating　flaw　in　such　a　view。　　He

saw　what　the　boy　had　in　his　mind；　the　conception　that　as　his　friend

had　had　the　generosity　to　come　back　he　must　show　his　gratitude　by

giving　him　his　life。　　But　the　poor　friend　didn't　desire　the　gift　…

what　could　he　do　with　Morgan's　dreadful　little　life？　　Of　course　at

the　same　time　that　Pemberton　was　irritated　he　remembered　the

reason；　which　was　very　honourable　to　Morgan　and　which　dwelt　simply

in　his　making　one　so　forget　that　he　was　no　more　than　a　patched

urchin。　　If　one　dealt　with　him　on　a　different　basis　one's

misadventures　were　one's　own　fault。　　So　Pemberton　waited　in　a　queer

confusion　of　yearning　and　alarm　for　the　catastrophe　which　was　held

to　hang　over　the　house　of　Moreen；　of　which　he　certainly　at　moments

felt　the　symptoms　brush　his　cheek　and　as　to　which　he　wondered　much

in　what　form　it　would　find　its　liveliest　effect。



Perhaps　it　would　take　the　form　of　sudden　dispersal　…　a　frightened

sauve　qui　peut；　a　scuttling　into　selfish　corners。　　Certainly　they

were　less　elastic　than　of　yore；　they　were　evidently　looking　for

something　they　didn't　find。　　The　Dorringtons　hadn't　re…appeared；

the　princes　had　scattered；　wasn't　that　the　beginning　of　the　end？

Mrs。　Moreen　had　lost　her　reckoning　of　the　famous　〃days〃；　her　social

calendar　was　blurred　…　it　had　turned　its　face　to　the　wall。

Pemberton　suspected　that　the　great；　the　cruel　discomfiture　had　been

the　unspeakable　behaviour　of　Mr。　Granger；　who　seemed　not　to　know

what　he　wanted；　or；　what　was　much　worse；　what　they　wanted。　　He　kept

sending　flowers；　as　if　to　bestrew　the　path　of　his　retreat；　which

was　never　the　path　of　a　return。　　Flowers　were　all　very　well；　but　…

Pemberton　could　complete　the　proposition。　　It　was　now　positively

conspicuous　that　in　the　long　run　the　Moreens　were　a　social　failure；

so　that　the　young　man　was　almost　grateful　the　run　had　not　been

short。　　Mr。　Moreen　indeed　was　still　occasionally　able　to　get　away

on　business　and；　what　was　more　surprising；　was　likewise　able　to　get

back。　　Ulick　had　no　club　but　you　couldn't　have　discovered　it　from

his　appearance；　which　was　as　much　as　ever　that　of　a　person　looking

at　life　from　the　window　of　such　an　institution；　therefore　Pemberton

was　doubly　surprised　at　an　answer　he　once　heard　him　make　his　mother

in　the　desperate　tone　of　a　man　familiar　with　the　worst　privations。

Her　question　Pemberton　had　not　quite　caught；　it　appeared　to　be　an

appeal　for　a　suggestion　as　to　whom　they　might　get　to　take　Amy。

〃Let　the　Devil　take　her！〃　Ulick　snapped；　so　that　Pemberton　could

see　that　they　had　not　only　lost　their　amiability　but　had　ceased　to

believe　in　themselves。　　He　could　also　see　that　if　Mrs。　Moreen　was

trying　to　get　people　to　take　her　children　she　might　be　regarded　as

closing　the　hatches　for　the　storm。　　But　Morgan　would　be　the　last

she　would　part　with。



One　winter　afternoon　…　it　was　a　Sunday　…　he　and　the　boy　walked　far

together　in　the　Bois　de　Boulogne。　　The　evening　was　so　splendid；　the

cold　lemon…coloured　sunset　so　clear；　the　stream　of　carriages　and

pedestrians　so　amusing　and　the　fascination　of　Paris　so　great；　that

they　stayed　out　later　than　usual　and　became　aware　that　they　should

have　to　hurry　home　to　arrive　in　time　for　dinner。　　They　hurried

accordingly；　arm…in…arm；　good…humoured　and　hungry；　agreeing　that

there　was　nothing　like　Paris　after　all　and　that　after　everything

too　that　had　come　and　gone　they　were　not　yet　sated　with　innocent

pleasures。　　When　they　reached　the　hotel　they　found　that；　though

scandalously　late；　they　were　in　time　for　all　the　dinner　they　were

likely　to　sit　down　to。　　Confusion　reigned　in　the　apartments　of　the

Moreens　…　very　shabby　ones　this　time；　but　the　best　in　the　house　…

and　before　the　interrupted　service　of　the　table；　with　objects

displaced　almost　as　if　there　had　been　a　scuffle　and　a　great　wine…

stain　from　an　overturned　bottle；　Pemberton　couldn't　blink　the　fact

that　there　had　been　a　scene　of　the　last　proprietary　firmness。　　The

storm　had　come　…　they　were　all　seeking　refuge。　　The　hatches　were

down；　Paula　and　Amy　were　invisible　…　they　had　never　tried　the　most

casual　art　upon　Pemberton；　but　he　felt　they　had　enough　of　an　eye　to

him　not　to　wish　to　meet　him　as　young　ladies　whose　frocks　had　been

confiscated　…　and　Ulick　appeared　to　have　jumped　overboard。　　The

host　and　his　staff；　in　a　word；　had　ceased　to　〃go　on〃　at　the　pace　of

their　guests；　and　the　air　of　embarrassed　detention；　thanks　to　a

pile　of　gaping　trunks　in　the　passage；　was　strangely　commingled　with

the　air　of　indignant　withdrawal。　　When　Morgan　took　all　this　in　…

and　he　took　it　in　very　quickly　…　he　coloured　to　the　roots　of　his

hair。　　He　had　walked　from　his　infancy　among　difficulties　and

dangers；　but　he　had　never　seen　a　public　exposure。　　Pemberton

noticed　in　a　second　glance　at　him　that　the　tears　had　rushed　into

his　eyes　and　that　they　were　tears　of　a　new　and　untasted　bitterness。

He　wondered　an　instant；　for　the　boy's　sake；　whether　he　might

successfully　pretend　not　to　understand。　　Not　successfully；　he　felt；

as　Mr。　and　Mrs。　Moreen；　dinnerless　by　their　extinguished　hearth；

rose　before　him　in　their　little　dishonoured　salon；　casting　about

with　glassy　eyes　for　the　nearest　port　in　such　a　storm。　　They　were

not　prostrate　but　were　horribly　white；　and　Mrs。　Moreen　had

evidently　been　crying。　　Pemberton　quickly　learned　however　that　her

grief　was　not　for　the　loss　of　her　dinner；　much　as　she　usually

enjoyed　it；　but　the　fruit　of　a　blow　that　struck　even　deeper；　as　she

made　all　haste　to　explain。　　He　would　see　for　himself；　so　far　as

that　went；　how　the　great　change　had　come；　the　dreadful　bolt　had

fallen；　and　how　they　would　now　all　have　to　turn　themselves　about。

Therefore　cruel　as　it　was　to　them　to　part　with　their　darling　she

must　look　to　him　to　carry　a　little　further　the　influence　he　had　so

fortunately　acquired　with　the　boy　…　to　induce　his　young　charge　to

follow　him　into　some　modest　retreat。　　They　depended　on　him　…　that

was　the　fact　…　to　take　their　delightful　child　temporarily　under　his

protection；　it　would　leave　Mr。　Moreen　and　herself　so　much　more　free

to　give　the　proper　attention　（too　little；　alas！　had　been　given）　to

the　readjustment　of　their　affairs。



〃We　trust　you　…　we　feel　we　CAN；〃　said　Mrs。　Moreen；　slowly　rubbing

her　plump　white　hands　and　looking　with　compunction　hard　at　Morgan；

whose　chin；　not　to　take　liberties；　her　husband　stroked　with　a

paternal　forefinger。



〃Oh　yes　…　we　feel　that　we　CAN。　　We　trust　Mr。　Pemberton　fully；

Morgan；〃　Mr。　Moreen　pursued。



Pemberton　wondered　again　if　he　might　pretend　not　to　understand；　but

everything　good　gave　way　to　the　intensity　of　Morgan's

understanding。　　〃Do　you　mean　he　may　take　me　to　live　with　him　for

ever　and　ever？〃　cried　the　boy。　　〃May　take　me　away；　away；　anywhere

he　likes？〃



〃For　ever　and　ever？　　Comme　vous…y…allez！〃　Mr。　Moreen　laughed

indulgently。　　〃For　as　long　as　Mr。　Pemberton　may　be　so　good。〃



〃We've　struggled；　we've　suffered；〃　his　wife　went　on；　〃but　you've

made　him　so　your　own　that　we've　already　been　through　the　worst　of

the　sacrifice。〃



Morgan　had　turned　away　from　his　father　…　he　stood