It seemed to him a graceful social law that Clifford and his sister should become engaged; he himself was not engaged, but every one else, fortunately, was not such a fool as he.

He was fond of Clifford, as well, and had his own way--of which it must be confessed he was a little ashamed--of looking at those aberrations which had led to the young man's compulsory retirement from the neighboring seat of learning.
Acton had seen the world, as he said to himself; he had been to China and had knocked about among men.

He had learned the essential difference between a nice young fellow and a mean young fellow, and was satisfied that there was no harm in Clifford.

He believed--although it must be added that he had not quite the courage to declare it--in the doctrine of wild oats, and thought it a useful preventive of superfluous fears.
If Mr.Wentworth and Charlotte and Mr.Brand would only apply it in Clifford's case, they would be happier; and Acton thought it a pity they should not be happier.

They took the boy's misdemeanors too much to heart; they talked to him too solemnly; they frightened and bewildered him.