he's an optimist, all right, Aunt Caroline." Bill's large bulk showed signs of considerable agitation, but his aunt did not observe them. [Pg 18] [Pg 18] "I gather from what he said, William, that he is something more than just a valet to you. He told me about your talks together on theology. I feel sure that he is going to be a very good influence. He told me about how hard you worked in your classes, and the honors you won, and all the temptations you resisted. He did not say that he helped you to resist them, but he did not need to. I could understand." Aunt Caroline nodded in confirmation of her own statement. "I hope he is orthodox," she added. "I shall ask him about that some time." There was a dull-red in Bill's cheeks. Suddenly he excused himself and bolted. Aunt Caroline reached for the very conservative magazine she affected. Up-stairs in Bill's room a young man was sprawled on a couch. He was smoking a pipe and staring up at the ceiling as Bill thundered in and slammed the door behind him. "Pete, what in blazes have you been saying to my aunt?" The valet grinned, yawned and stretched. Bill jerked a pillow from under his head, gripped him mercilessly by one shoulder and spun him into a sitting posture. "Ouch! Leggo, you mastodon." "What have you been saying?" repeated Bill savagely. "Oh, whatever she told you, I suppose. Two to one I made it stick, anyhow." Mr. Peter Stearns, who had accompanied Bill home from college, smiled benignly. He was a frail-looking young man, utterly unlike Bill, whose mold was heroic. He was also mild-looking; there was a baffling depth[Pg 19] of innocence in his eyes, a placid expression of peace on his lean features. There was even a hint of piety that might pass current among the unwary. [Pg 19] "You filled her up with a lot of bull about me being first in the class and you having religion—you!"
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