"Not much, but I think I could probably get in."
"Thank you, Fox. There is one thing that you can do and that is to explain to me why Charlie does it. Or, I suppose I know why he does, but explain this if you can. Why haven't I the same desire? I am my father's daughter. Why shouldn't I want to gamble, too, instead of the very idea of it filling me with disgust?"
He sat for some time with a half smile on his lips, gazing at Sally and saying nothing. Sally looked up and caught his eye and looked away again.
"Please tell me, Fox," she said.
"A question of heredity, Sally! Heredity is a subject which I know very little about. Nobody really knows much about it, for that matter. A few experiments with peas and guinea-pigs, and, on the other hand, a great deal of theorizing—which means a man's ideas of what ought to happen, made to fit; or rather, the cases chosen to fit the ideas. And neither helps us much when we come to apply them to such a case as Charlie's. But do you really want me to tell you what I think? I'm no authority and the whole thing is a matter of guesswork. You might guess as well as I—or better."
She nodded. "I should like, very much, to know."
"Ah, so should I," he said. "If I only knew! I don't. But I will do my best. Well, then, your father had rather a strong character—"
"Oh, Fox!" she protested.
"He did," he insisted. "Even you had to give in to him sometimes, and you are the only one in your family who ever stood up against him—who ever could have. He was lacking in the sense of right, and he had depraved tastes, perhaps, but his tastes grew by indulgence. Your mother—forgive me, Sally—has not as strong a character, in a way, but her sense of right is strong. Perhaps her traditions are as strong." There were some things which Fox did not know. If he had known all that had passed in Mrs. Ladue's heart he might not have spoken so confidently. "You have your mother's tastes,—irreproachable,—her sense of right and your father's strength; a very excellent combination." He laughed gently. "And both strengthened by your early experience. A fiery furnace," he murmured, "to consume the dross."
Sally got red and did not seem pleased. "Go on," she said.