"Just what they said about what poor Zenobie told me - that it was a horrid dreadful story, that they had paid her every penny they owed her.""Well, perhaps they had," said Pemberton.
"Perhaps they've paid you!"
"Let us pretend they have, and n'en parlons plus.""They accused her of lying and cheating" - Morgan stuck to historic truth."That's why I don't want to speak to them.""Lest they should accuse me, too?" To this Morgan made no answer, and his companion, looking down at him - the boy turned away his eyes, which had filled - saw what he couldn't have trusted himself to utter."You're right.Don't worry them," Pemberton pursued.
"Except for that, they ARE charming people.""Except for THEIR lying and THEIR cheating?""I say - I say!" cried Pemberton, imitating a little tone of the lad's which was itself an imitation.
"We must be frank, at the last; we MUST come to an understanding,"said Morgan with the importance of the small boy who lets himself think he is arranging great affairs - almost playing at shipwreck or at Indians."I know all about everything.""I dare say your father has his reasons,'' Pemberton replied, but too vaguely, as he was aware.
"For lying and cheating?"
"For saving and managing and turning his means to the best account.
He has plenty to do with his money.You're an expensive family.""Yes, I'm very expensive," Morgan concurred in a manner that made his preceptor burst out laughing.
"He's saving for YOU," said Pemberton."They think of you in everything they do.""He might, while he's about it, save a little - " The boy paused, and his friend waited to hear what.Then Morgan brought out oddly:
"A little reputation."
"Oh there's plenty of that.That's all right!""Enough of it for the people they know, no doubt.The people they know are awful.""Do you mean the princes? We mustn't abuse the princes.""Why not? They haven't married Paula - they haven't married Amy.
They only clean out Ulick."
"You DO know everything!" Pemberton declared.
"No, I don't, after all.I don't know what they live on, or how they live, or WHY they live! What have they got and how did they get it? Are they rich, are they poor, or have they a modeste aisance? Why are they always chiveying me about - living one year like ambassadors and the next like paupers? Who are they, any way, and what are they? I've thought of all that - I've thought of a lot of things.They're so beastly worldly.That's what I hate most - oh, I've SEEN it! All they care about is to make an appearance and to pass for something or other.What the dickens do they want to pass for? What DO they, Mr.Pemberton?""You pause for a reply," said Pemberton, treating the question as a joke, yet wondering too and greatly struck with his mate's intense if imperfect vision."I haven't the least idea.""And what good does it do? Haven't I seen the way people treat them - the 'nice' people, the ones they want to know? They'll take anything from them - they'll lie down and be trampled on.The nice ones hate that - they just sicken them.You're the only really nice person we know.""Are you sure? They don't lie down for me!""Well, you shan't lie down for them.You've got to go - that's what you've got to do," said Morgan.
"And what will become of you?"
"Oh I'm growing up.I shall get off before long.I'll see you later.""You had better let me finish you," Pemberton urged, lending himself to the child's strange superiority.
Morgan stopped in their walk, looking up at him.He had to look up much less than a couple of years before - he had grown, in his loose leanness, so long and high."Finish me?" he echoed.
"There are such a lot of jolly things we can do together yet.Iwant to turn you out - I want you to do me credit."Morgan continued to look at him."To give you credit - do you mean?""My dear fellow, you're too clever to live.""That's just what I'm afraid you think.No, no; it isn't fair - Ican't endure it.We'll separate next week.The sooner it's over the sooner to sleep.""If I hear of anything - any other chance - I promise to go,"Pemberton said.
Morgan consented to consider this."But you'll be honest," he demanded; "you won't pretend you haven't heard?""I'm much more likely to pretend I have.""But what can you hear of, this way, stuck in a hole with us? You ought to be on the spot, to go to England - you ought to go to America.""One would think you were MY tutor!" said Pemberton.
Morgan walked on and after a little had begun again: "Well, now that you know I know and that we look at the facts and keep nothing back - it's much more comfortable, isn't it?""My dear boy, it's so amusing, so interesting, that it will surely be quite impossible for me to forego such hours as these."This made Morgan stop once more."You DO keep something back.Oh you're not straight - I am!""How am I not straight?"
"Oh you've got your idea!"
"My idea?"
"Why that I probably shan't make old - make older - bones, and that you can stick it out till I'm removed.""You ARE too clever to live!" Pemberton repeated.
"I call it a mean idea," Morgan pursued."But I shall punish you by the way I hang on.""Look out or I'll poison you!" Pemberton laughed.
"I'm stronger and better every year.Haven't you noticed that there hasn't been a doctor near me since you came?""I'M your doctor," said the young man, taking his arm and drawing him tenderly on again.
Morgan proceeded and after a few steps gave a sigh of mingled weariness and relief."Ah now that we look at the facts it's all right!"
