"No, Bill; I figured that all out. Your Aunt Caroline was suspicious of all college friends; you told me so yourself. She worried about bad company and all that sort of thing. But she won't worry about a poor young man who is working his way in the world and getting ready to reform the heathen. No; I'm better as a valet. Besides, I don't have to give any name except Peter, which is my own. That keeps you from making breaks and saves me from telling a lie."
Bill shook his head gloomily.
"We're off to a bad start," he grumbled. "I don't like it."
"Well, let's be gay and bold about it, anyhow," said Pete. "To become practical, Bill, what sort of accommodations do I draw here? Do I room with you?"
"In your capacity as my valet I imagine you'll get a room in the servants' quarters. Aunt Caroline may put you out in the stable."
"That's a pleasant way to treat a pal," observed Pete.
"Take my tip and get that pal stuff out of your head. You'll forget yourself in front of my aunt some day."
There was a knock at the door and Bill found one of the maids standing in the hall.
"Your aunt would like to see you in the library, Mr. William, if it's convenient," she said.
"I'll be right down."