great affairs—almost playing at shipwreck or at Indians. "I know all about everything," he added.
"I daresay your father has his reasons," Pemberton observed, 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 rejoined, in a manner which made his preceptor burst out laughing.
"He's saving for you," said Pemberton. "They think of you in everything they do."
"He might save a little———" The boy paused. Pemberton 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 exclaimed.
"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 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 do they want to pass for? What do they, Mr. Pemberton?"
