Also he danced--this in spite of his mother.

All the life that Bestwood offered he enjoyed, from the sixpenny-hops down Church Street, to sports and billiards.
Paul was treated to dazzling descriptions of all kinds of flower-like ladies, most of whom lived like cut blooms in William's heart for a brief fortnight.
Occasionally some flame would come in pursuit of her errant swain.

Mrs.
Morel would find a strange girl at the door, and immediately she sniffed the air.
"Is Mr.Morel in ?" the damsel would ask appealingly.
"My husband is at home," Mrs.Morel replied.
"I--I mean YOUNG Mr.Morel," repeated the maiden painfully.
"Which one?
There are several." Whereupon much blushing and stammering from the fair one.
"I--I met Mr.Morel--at Ripley," she explained.
"Oh--at a dance!" "Yes." "I don't approve of the girls my son meets at dances.

And he is NOT at home." Then he came home angry with his mother for having turned the girl away so rudely.

He was a careless, yet eager-looking fellow, who walked with long strides, sometimes frowning, often with his cap pushed jollily to the back of his head.