made for the young,
and how your own poor mother managed to provide those genuine pearl
studs for you out of her allowance from father, I can't--"

"Oh, dry up!" said the nephew. "I understand this Morgan--"

"Mr. Eugene Morgan," his uncle suggested. "Politeness requires that the
young should--"

"I guess the 'young' didn't know much about politeness in your day,"
George interrupted. "I understand that Mr. Eugene Morgan used to be a
great friend of the family."

"Oh, the Minafers?" the uncle inquired, with apparent innocence. "No, I
seem to recall that he and your father were not--"

"I mean the Ambersons," George said impatiently. "I understand he was a
good deal around the house here."

"What is your objection to that, George?"

"What do you mean: my objection?"

"You seemed to speak with a certain crossness."

"Well," said George, "I meant he seems to feel awfully at home here. The
way he was dancing with Aunt Fanny--"

Amberson laughed. "I'm afraid your Aunt Fanny's heart was stirred by
ancient recollections, Georgie."

"You mean she used to be silly about him?"

"She wasn't considered singular," said the uncle "He was--he was
popular. Could you bear a question?"

"What do you mean: could I bear--"

"I only wanted to ask: Do you take this same passionate interest in the
parents of every girl you dance with? Perhaps it's a new fashion we old
bachelors ought to take up. Is it the thing this year to--"

"Oh, go on!" said George, moving away. "I only wanted to know--" He
left the sentence unfinished, and crossed the room to where a girl sat
waiting for his nobility to find time to fulfil his contract with her
for this dance.

"Pardon f' keep' wait," he muttered, as she rose brightly to meet him;
and she seemed pleased that he came at all--but George was used to
girls' looking radiant when he danced with them, and she had little
effect upon him. He danced with her perfunctorily, thinking the while of
Mr. Eugene Morgan and his daughter. Strangely enough, his thoughts dwelt
more upon the father than the daughter, though George could not possibly
have given a reason--even to himself--for this disturbing preponderance.

By a coincidence, though not an odd one, the thoughts and conversation
of Mr. Eugene Morgan at this very time were concerned with George
Amberson Minafer, rather casually, it is true. Mr. Morgan had retired
to a room set apart for smoking, on the second floor, and had found a
grizzled g