Sometimes, however, Mr. Van Pycke experienced the sickening fear that Bosworth avoided him because of a foolish prejudice against the lending of money to relatives. There was an admirable counter-irritant, however, in Bosworth's assertion that one never got back the money he lent to relatives; and, as long as Mr. Van Pycke had known him in a pecuniary way, the young man had lived up to this principle by not even suggesting the return of a loan. Mr. Van Pycke was very proud of his son. He sometimes wished he could see more of him. Bosworth lived in the club. Van Pycke, senior, had lived there, but was now living at one of the other clubs--he would have had some difficulty in remembering just which one if suddenly questioned. "I hope Buzzy isn't going to turn out like the old man," said one of the loungers, addressing himself to the crowd. "Oh, he'll marry rich and go the pace, and the old man will die happy," said another. "He's hanging around that flossy Mrs. Scoville a good bit these days," observed the drawler. "That's not the best thing in the world for him." "She's not as bad as she's painted," protested some one. "My mother says she's the limit," said the drawler. "That's what my mother says also," argued another, "but it's because she's afraid I'll slip up some day and fall a victim to the lady's charms. These mothers are a nifty lot. They've got their eyes peeled and their ears spread, and they don't give a hang what they say about a woman if she's likely to harm sonny-boy." "Well, say what you please, Mrs. Scoville is as swift as a bullet. She carried on to beat the band with Chauncey De Foe long before Jim Scoville died, and she's still going it. Everybody talked about it then, and people don't forget. My mother says she knows of a dozen of the best houses where she is no longer received. I'm sorry that Buzzy has taken it into his head to flutter about her flame. He's bound to get a good singeing." "Oh, Buzzy's not such a fool as you think. He's pretty wise to women. He's had nothing else to do but to study 'em since he left college." "But she's always doing some freakish thing to get into the newspapers. Next thing you know, Buzzy'll have his name in the paper as taking a chimpanzee out to dinner, or being toastmaster at a banquet for French poodles. She delights in it, just because it makes people sit up and gasp. That sliding down the banister party she gave at her coming-out party last spring must have been a ripper. Four or five old ladies who couldn't slide down a haystack got mad and went home. They've cut her since then." "Coming-out party?" queried the Westerner. "I thought you said she was a widow." "She is. It was when she came out of mourning." "I think I'd like to know her," mused the Westerner, his eyes lighting up. "She's very expensive," murmured the drawler, who also would have enjoyed an acquaintanceship.