the pupil-第1节
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The Pupil
by Henry James
CHAPTER I
The poor young man hesitated and procrastinated： it cost him such
an effort to broach the subject of terms； to speak of money to a
person who spoke only of feelings and； as it were； of the
aristocracy。 Yet he was unwilling to take leave； treating his
engagement as settled； without some more conventional glance in
that direction than he could find an opening for in the manner of
the large affable lady who sat there drawing a pair of soiled gants
de Suede through a fat jewelled hand and； at once pressing and
gliding； repeated over and over everything but the thing he would
have liked to hear。 He would have liked to hear the figure of his
salary； but just as he was nervously about to sound that note the
little boy came back … the little boy Mrs。 Moreen had sent out of
the room to fetch her fan。 He came back without the fan； only with
the casual observation that he couldn't find it。 As he dropped
this cynical confession he looked straight and hard at the
candidate for the honour of taking his education in hand。 This
personage reflected somewhat grimly that the thing he should have
to teach his little charge would be to appear to address himself to
his mother when he spoke to her … especially not to make her such
an improper answer as that。
When Mrs。 Moreen bethought herself of this pretext for getting rid
of their companion Pemberton supposed it was precisely to approach
the delicate subject of his remuneration。 But it had been only to
say some things about her son that it was better a boy of eleven
shouldn't catch。 They were extravagantly to his advantage save
when she lowered her voice to sigh； tapping her left side
familiarly； 〃And all overclouded by THIS； you know； all at the
mercy of a weakness … ！〃 Pemberton gathered that the weakness was
in the region of the heart。 He had known the poor child was not
robust： this was the basis on which he had been invited to treat；
through an English lady； an Oxford acquaintance； then at Nice； who
happened to know both his needs and those of the amiable American
family looking out for something really superior in the way of a
resident tutor。
The young man's impression of his prospective pupil； who had come
into the room as if to see for himself the moment Pemberton was
admitted； was not quite the soft solicitation the visitor had taken
for granted。 Morgan Moreen was somehow sickly without being
〃delicate；〃 and that he looked intelligent … it is true Pemberton
wouldn't have enjoyed his being stupid … only added to the
suggestion that； as with his big mouth and big ears he really
couldn't be called pretty； he might too utterly fail to please。
Pemberton was modest； was even timid； and the chance that his small
scholar might prove cleverer than himself had quite figured； to his
anxiety； among the dangers of an untried experiment。 He reflected；
however； that these were risks one had to run when one accepted a
position； as it was called； in a private family； when as yet one's
university honours had； pecuniarily speaking； remained barren。 At
any rate when Mrs。 Moreen got up as to intimate that； since it was
understood he would enter upon his duties within the week she would
let him off now； he succeeded； in spite of the presence of the
child； in squeezing out a phrase about the rate of payment。 It was
not the fault of the conscious smile which seemed a reference to
the lady's expensive identity； it was not the fault of this
demonstration； which had； in a sort； both vagueness and point； if
the allusion didn't sound rather vulgar。 This was exactly because
she became still more gracious to reply： 〃Oh I can assure you that
all that will be quite regular。〃
Pemberton only wondered； while he took up his hat； what 〃all that〃
was to amount to … people had such different ideas。 Mrs。 Moreen's
words； however； seemed to commit the family to a pledge definite
enough to elicit from the child a strange little comment in the
shape of the mocking foreign ejaculation 〃Oh la…la！〃
Pemberton； in some confusion； glanced at him as he walked slowly to
the window with his back turned； his hands in his pockets and the
air in his elderly shoulders of a boy who didn't play。 The young
man wondered if he should be able to teach him to play； though his
mother had said it would never do and that this was why school was
impossible。 Mrs。 Moreen exhibited no discomfiture； she only
continued blandly： 〃Mr。 Moreen will be delighted to meet your
wishes。 As I told you； he has been called to London for a week。
As soon as he comes back you shall have it out with him。〃
This was so frank and friendly that the young man could only reply；
laughing as his hostess laughed： 〃Oh I don't imagine we shall have
much of a battle。〃
〃They'll give you anything you like；〃 the boy remarked
unexpectedly； returning from the window。 〃We don't mind what
anything costs … we live awfully well。〃
〃My darling； you're too quaint！〃 his mother exclaimed； putting out
to caress him a practised but ineffectual hand。 He slipped out of
it； but looked with intelligent innocent eyes at Pemberton； who had
already had time to notice that from one moment to the other his
small satiric face seemed to change its time of life。 At this
moment it was infantine； yet it appeared also to be under the
influence of curious intuitions and knowledges。 Pemberton rather
disliked precocity and was disappointed to find gleams of it in a
disciple not yet in his teens。 Nevertheless he divined on the spot
that Morgan wouldn't prove a bore。 He would prove on the contrary
a source of agitation。 This idea held the young man； in spite of a
certain repulsion。
〃You pompous little person！ We're not extravagant！〃 Mrs。 Moreen
gaily protested； making another unsuccessful attempt to draw the
boy to her side。 〃You must know what to expect；〃 she went on to
Pemberton。
〃The less you expect the better！〃 her companion interposed。 〃But
we ARE people of fashion。〃
〃Only so far as YOU make us so！〃 Mrs。 Moreen tenderly mocked。
〃Well then； on Friday … don't tell me you're superstitious … and
mind you don't fail us。 Then you'll see us all。 I'm so sorry the
girls are out。 I guess you'll like the girls。 And； you know； I've
another son； quite different from this one。〃
〃He tries to imitate me；〃 Morgan said to their friend。
〃He tries？ Why he's twenty years old！〃 cried Mrs。 Moreen。
〃You're very witty；〃 Pemberton remarked to the child … a
proposition his mother echoed with enthusiasm； declaring Morgan's
sallies to be the delight of the house。
The boy paid no heed to this； he only enquired abruptly of the
visitor； who was surprised afterwards that he hadn't struck him as
offensively forward： 〃Do you WANT very much to come？〃
〃Can you doubt it after such a description of what I shall hear？〃
Pemberton replied。 Yet he didn't want to come at all； he was
coming because he had to go somewhere； thanks to the collapse of
his fortune at the end of a year abroad spent on the system of
putting his scant patrimony into a single full wave of experience。
He had had his full wave but couldn't pay the score at his inn。
Moreover he had caught in the boy's eyes the glimpse of a far…off
appeal。
〃Well； I'll do the best I can for you；〃 said Morgan； with which he
turned away again。 He passed out of one of the long windows；
Pemberton saw him go and lean on the parapet of the terrace。 He
remained there while the young man took leave of his mother； who；
on Pemberton's looking as if he expected a farewell from him；
interposed with： 〃Leave him； leave him； he's so strange！〃
Pemberton supposed her to fear something he might say。 〃He's a
genius … you'll love him；〃 she added。 〃He's much the most
interesting person in the family。〃 And before he could invent some
civility to oppose to this she wound up with： 〃But we're all good；
you know！〃
〃He's a genius … you'll love him！〃 were words that recurred to our
aspirant before the Friday； suggesting among many things that
geniuses were not invariably loveable。 However； it was all the
better if there was an element that would make tutorship absorbing：
he had perhaps taken too much for granted it would only disgust
him。 As he left the villa after his interview he looked up at the
balcony and saw the child leaning over it。 〃We shall have great
larks！〃 he called up。
Morgan hung fire a moment and then gaily returned： 〃By the time
you come back I shall have thought of something witty！〃
This made Pemberton say to himself 〃After all he's rather nice。〃
CHAPTER II
On the Friday he saw them all； as Mrs。 Moreen had promised； for her
husband had come back and the girls and the other son were at home。
Mr。 Moreen had a white moustache； a confiding manner and； in his
buttonhole； the rib
