f all that, to tell him that he
must obediently accept something else from us--our code of conduct? It
would be mere cheek, and with all my shortcomings I'm incapable of
impudence, especially to the young. He was our slave for nearly twenty
years. We did what we liked with him; and if Charlie fails now it simply
means that we've failed. Besides, how can you be sure that he's carrying
on like an adventurer? He may be carrying on like a financial genius.
Perhaps we have brought a giant to earth. We can't believe it of course,
because we haven't got enough faith in ourselves, but later on we may be
compelled to believe it. Naturally if Charlie crashes after a showy
flight, then he won't be a financial genius,--he'll only be an
adventurer, and there may he some slight trouble in the law
courts,--there usually is. That is where we shall have to come forward
and pay for the nice feeling of having children. And, remember, we
shan't be in a position to upbraid Charlie. He could silence us with one
question, to which we could find no answer: 'Why did you get married,
you two?' However, my pet, let us hope for the best. It's not yet a
crime to live at great price at the Grand Babylon Hotel. Quite possibly
your son has not yet committed any crime, whatever. If he succeeds in
making a huge fortune and in keeping it, he will not commit any crime.
Rich men never do. They can't. They never even commit murder. There is
no reason why they should. Whatever they do, it is no worse than an
idiosyncrasy. Now tell me what our son talked about."

"Well, he didn't talk much. He--he wasn't expecting me."

"Did he ask after me?"

"I told him about you. He asked about the car."

"He didn't ask after me, but he asked after the car. Nothing very
original there, is there? Any son would behave like that. He must do
better than that if he doesn't mean to end as an adventurer. I must go
and see him, and offer him, very respectfully, some advice."

"Arthur, I insist that he shall come here. It is not proper that you
should go running after _him_."

"Pooh, my dear! I'm rich enough myself to run after him without being
accused of snobbishness or lion-hunting or anything of that kind."

"Oh! Arthur!" sobbed Eve. "Don't you think you're been funny quite long
enough?" She then openly wept.

The singular Mr. Prohack was apparently not in the least moved by his
wife's tears. He and she alone in the house were out of bed; there was
no chance of their b