"What kind of a relationship shall we establish, exactly?" I asked. "You say you don't want to be my Papa."
"If I were your Papa, I should be dead."
"If you were my brother, and the age you are now, Mamma might as well be dead."
"Ah, I would not be your brother on any consideration. Not even your step-brother; though some step-relationships are delightful. But your Mamma is too charming—you are all too charming, for my peace of mind. I do not know how I lived before I met you."
I thought that the money-lenders perhaps knew; but there are some things even little Beechy can't say.
"Your Mamma must have great responsibilities for so young a woman," he went on, while I pruned and prismed. "With her great fortune, and no one to guard her, she must often feel the weight of her burden too heavy for one pair of shoulders."
"One can always spend one's fortune, and so get rid of the burden, if it's too big," said I.
The Prince looked horrified. "Surely she is more wise than that?" he exclaimed.
"She hasn't spent it all yet, anyhow," I said.
"Are you not anxious lest, if your Mamma is extravagant, she may throw away your fortune as well as her own; or did your Papa think of that danger, and make you quite secure?"