[Pg 25]

Bill was stalled. He did not know what. It was merely the clutch of a drowning man at a straw.

"You will find that society is serious, very serious," observed Aunt Caroline. "There may be some who think it is frivolous; but not the society in which the Marshalls are known. None of us can escape the heritage of our blood, William; none of us should try. If the world of fashion calls you as a leader, it is simply your destiny calling."

Bill regarded his aunt with horror-stricken eyes. He had never thought of a Destiny garbed in the grotesque. For one awful instant he saw himself the perfect gentleman, moving in a wholly polite and always correct little world, smiling, smirking, carrying ices, going to operas, wearing cutaways and canes, drinking tea, talking smartly, petting lap-dogs, handing damosels into limousines, bowing, dancing, holding the mirror to propriety—he—Bill Marshall—old Walloping Bill. His knees shook. Then he brushed the fearsome picture from his mind.

"Aunt Caroline, it's utterly impossible!"

"William, I have decided."

For a few seconds he faced her, matching her glance. He was red with belligerence; Aunt Caroline had the composure of placid adamant. He knew that look. Again the dread picture began to fashion itself; there was weakness in his soul.

"But listen, Aunt Caroline; I'm such a roughneck——"

"William!"

He made a ponderous gesture of despair and walked out of the library.

[Pg 26]

[Pg 26]

 CHAPTER III

 Engaged

Engaged

Out of the library and through the parlor—there was a parlor in the Marshall home—strode Bill, with each step gathering speed and assuming the momentum of an avalanche. Things that were in his way suffered consequences. Not that Bill was clumsy at all, although he thought he was, as most men do who belong in the oversize class. He was simply for the moment disregardful of property. Sometimes he believed in the innate perversity of inanimate matter and comported 

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