But all the way back to the Marshall home Mary was reflecting upon the difficulties, rather than the ease of the problem. The first thing to do was to obtain the consent of Bill Marshall. It would be no use to consult Aunt Caroline; that good lady would simply tell her to go right ahead and do exactly as she pleased. She might, of course, call upon Aunt Caroline to give Bill his orders in case he balked; but that would be a confession of her own weakness.
"I've got to persuade him myself," she decided, "even if it comes to being ruthless."
Just as she had foreseen, Bill objected strenuously and at once. He did not want a party; he was not going around the world. But if she insisted on having a lot of silly people at the house, he would start around the world before they arrived, and he would never come back. Mary argued with much patience. She even pointed out the danger that his aunt might be driven back upon the plan suggested by his valet, Peter. But Bill was in a particularly obdurate mood. Faced at last with a definite project, he quailed.
"We'll just let things drift a while," he told her.
"No," said Mary.
Bill grinned at her in an amiable way and said he thought he would go out for a ride.
"We're going to settle it," she declared. "You promised you'd let me start."
"But I never said when."
"Well, this is the time, Mr. Marshall. We'll start now."
Bill shook his head. Mary, who faced him across the table in the sun parlor, tapped a forefinger on the writing-pad and looked him in the eye.