"But—Aunt Caroline—I don't want to go into society. I haven't any use for it. I'm not built——"
"There, now, William. We must always put our duty before our mere inclinations. It is your duty to enter society."
Bill almost trembled. This was worse than anything his imagination had conjured. He felt deeply dismayed and, at the same time, excessively foolish.
"Duty?" he echoed. "Duty? Why, how in—how can it be a duty, Aunt Caroline? You've got me knocked cold."
She smiled gently and patiently.
"It is your duty to the family, William. It is something your father would wish. He had a distinguished position in society. Your grandfather's position was even more distinguished. Because of the fact that I am a spinster it has not been possible for me to maintain the family tradition. But for you, William—why, the whole world of society is open to you. It is waiting for you."
Aunt Caroline clasped her hands in a spell of ecstasy.
"But, my dear aunt, I don't know anybody in society," groaned Bill.
"A Marshall can go anywhere," she answered proudly.
"But I don't want to. I'm not fit for it. I'd feel like a jay. I can't dance, Aunt Caroline, I can't talk, I can't doll up—hang it! Look at the size of me. I tell you I'm too big for society. I'd step on it; I'd smother it. I'd break it all into pieces."