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.
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