"Why—nothing's positively settled, Aunt Caroline. Takes time to get started, you know. It's a sort of closed season in society, anyhow. Isn't that so, Miss Norcross?"
"It is not as active as it might be—in town," said Mary diplomatically.
"I suppose it is true," observed Aunt Caroline. "Yet, of course, opportunities can be found. I had what seemed a really excellent suggestion this morning."
Bill laid his fork on his plate and waited grimly.
"It came from that nice young man of yours, Peter."
The social secretary was diligently buttering a piece of toast; she did not appear to be interested. Bill knew what that meant—Aunt Caroline had already told her. Everybody was taking a hand in planning his career except himself. It was enough to make a red-blooded American explode.
"Well, I'll bite, Aunt Caroline. What did he say?"
"William, please avoid slang. Why, he spoke about the social possibilities that lie in charitable and religious work."
Bill gripped the edge of the table and held on. He felt certain that his brain had flopped clear over and was now wrong side up.