Bill followed the remark with a stride. He felt both angry and ridiculous. But Pete was holding his ground with an air of sleek and pious fortitude.
"Your aunt, sir, thought there was much promise in the idea," he said.
Bill halted.
"What idea?"
"A suggestion that I made about you, sir."
Bill groaned in the depths of his soul. Now what had happened? What new devilment had been set afoot by Pete Stearns? Well, he would soon find out, but not here—not in the presence of his social secretary. He must brazen it out for the moment:
"You mean to tell me you have dared discuss my affairs with my aunt?"
"At her request, sir," answered Pete, lifting a deprecating hand. "I should not have dreamed of volunteering, sir."
Bill was almost ready to believe him; yes, in all probability it was a horrible truth. Doubtless Aunt Caroline had actually asked for his advice. She was capable of that folly since she had acquired the notion that Pete Stearns was an uplifting influence.
"Well, you won't discuss them with me," roared Bill. "Get out!"