Finally he
brought out with the guarded tone of one forcing himself to moderation
of speech, "Well, the Colonel is an abominable old black-guard in
public life, and his private reputation is no better."
Sylvia flushed. "I don't see what that has to do with his son. It's
not fair to judge a young man by his father--or by anything but what
he is himself--you yourself are always saying that, if the trouble is
that the father is poor or ignorant or something else tiresome."
Professor Marshall said cautiously, "From what I hear, I gather that
the son in this case is a good deal like his father."
"No, he _isn't!_" cried Sylvia quickly. "He may have been wild when he
first came up to the University, but he's all right now!" She spoke as
with authoritative and intimate knowledge of all the details of Fiske,
Jr.'s, life. "And anyhow, I don't see what difference it makes, _what_
the Colonel's reputation is. I'm just going up there with a lot of
other young people to have a good time. Eleanor Hubert's invited, and
three or four other society girls. I don't see why we need to be such
a lot more particular than other people. We never are when it's a
question of people being dirty, or horrid, other ways! How about
Cousin Parnelia and Mr. Reinhardt? I guess the Fiskes would laugh
at the idea of people who have as many queer folks around as we do,
thinking _they_ aren't good enough.
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