"William," said Aunt Caroline, as she examined the diploma through her gold-rimmed spectacles, "I think you have done very well. If your father were alive I am sure he would say the same thing. I am going to give you a check."
"Oh, don't bother, Aunt Caroline," said Bill grandly. But he knew she would.
"It is so comforting to know that you stood at the head of your class, William."
She alone used "William."
"Why—what?"
"That out of two hundred you were the very first," remarked Aunt Caroline, smoothing her black silk.
Bill was blinking. Was he being joshed by his maiden aunt?
"Why, Aunt Caroline, who——"
"Oh, the young man you brought home told me," and she beamed benevolently. "But the Marshalls always have been a modest family. We let our acts speak for themselves. I suppose I should never have found it out if your valet had not told me. His name is Peter, isn't it?"