ng and living with
so amazingly gifted a child; than whom really (and she meant literally
what she said) there was no better company in Europe? Mrs. Moreen
herself took to appealing to him as a man of the world; she said "Voyons,
mon cher," and "My dear man, look here now"; and urged him to be
reasonable, putting it before him that it was truly a chance for him. She
spoke as if, according as he _should_ be reasonable, he would prove
himself worthy to be her son's tutor and of the extraordinary confidence
they had placed in him.

After all, Pemberton reflected, it was only a difference of theory and
the theory didn't matter much. They had hitherto gone on that of
remunerated, as now they would go on that of gratuitous, service; but why
should they have so many words about it? Mrs. Moreen at all events
continued to be convincing; sitting there with her fifty francs she
talked and reiterated, as women reiterate, and bored and irritated him,
while he leaned against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his
wrapper, drawing it together round his legs and looking over the head of
his visitor at the grey negations of his window. She wound up with
saying: "You see I bring you a definite proposal."

"A definite proposal?"

"To make our relations regular, as it were--to put them on a comfortable
footing."

"I see--it's a system," said Pemberton. "A kind of organised blackmail."

Mrs. Moreen bounded up, which was exactly what he wanted. "What do you
mean by that?"

"You practise on one's fears--one's fears about the child if one should
go away."

"And pray what would happen to him in that event?" she demanded, with
majesty.

"Why he'd be alone with _you_."

"And pray with whom _should_ a child be but with those whom he loves
most?"

"If you think that, why don't you dismiss me?"

"Do you pretend he loves you more than he loves _us_?" cried Mrs. Moreen.

"I think he ought to. I make sacrifices for him. Though I've heard of
those _you_ make I don't see them."

Mrs. Moreen stared a moment; then with emotion she grasped her inmate's
hand. "_Will_ you make it--the sacrifice?"

He burst out laughing. "I'll see. I'll do what I can. I'll stay a
little longer. Your calculation's just--I _do_ hate intensely to give
him up; I'm fond of him and he thoroughly interests me, in spite of the
inconvenience I suffer. You know my situation perfectly. I haven't a
penny in the world and, occupied as you see me wi