That was the beginning of it; and Brant’s heart warmed within him when he allowed himself to hope that something more beneficent than chance had brought them together again. Later in the evening, however, it cooled, till the former generous glow became a mere memory. The chilling process began in a turn of the conversation which defined Mrs. Langford’s attitude toward sin and sinners, and her point of view was that of a mother of marriageable daughters. She had small charity for sowers of wild oats, and was strongly in favour of a social code which should embody a goodly measure of expiation. If every young man were held strictly accountable--were given to understand that every misstep would shut one or more respectable doors to him--the crop of wild oats would grow smaller with every generation. Brant went dumb before the suggested accusation, was ill at ease during the remainder of the evening, and was much relieved when Antrim finally gave the signal for departure. On the walk cityward (they had missed the car) the chief clerk harked back to this discussion on culpability. “I could hardly keep a straight face while Mrs. Langford was laying down the law for us,” he chuckled. “She has a very dark-brown sheep in her own household--though she would be the last person in the world to admit it.” “So? The son, I suppose.” “Yes, Will. He is only nineteen, but I am afraid he has sounded the pond pretty thoroughly. I haven’t kept track of him here in Denver, partly because he has no use for a friend of the family, and partly because I haven’t much use for him. But he promised to be a terror when he was only a schoolboy back home, and I have no doubt he is keeping the promise.” “It’s a pity,” said Brant, thinking of the boy’s elder sister. “It’s all of that. There is plenty of good blood in him on the Langford side, but his mother was a Troop, and the Troops have had at least one black sheep in every generation. But the father and mother are to blame, too. They have had one standard for the daughters and another for the son. Will has never known the meaning of obedience, and he has never been required to do anything he didn’t want to do. Consequently he is a hardened sinner at nineteen.” “What is his particular weakness?” “I’m not sure that he has any favourites. To the best of my knowledge he is as impartial as a callow youth can well be. I’ve heard more about his gambling than anything else, though.” “Quiet games with amateurs? or the other kind?” Antrim laughed. “The other kind, of course. Penny-ante in a parlour wouldn’t be half tough enough to suit him.” “That’s bad.” “Yes; especially bad in his case. He is a surly young cub, as vindictive as he is quarrelsome. Somebody will lay him out one of these fine nights, and that will be the end of it.” Brant held his peace for two whole squares; then he spoke his mind freely as to a friend.