Aunt Caroline displayed a mild frown of disapproval.
"You must remember, William, that he is something more than a valet. He has been a companion in college and is a young man of very high ideals."
"I don't care what his ideals are—high up or low down. Let him mind his own business."
"But William, he has your very best interests at heart," persisted Aunt Caroline. "I consider him a very fine influence."
"Well, he can't meddle with me."
"Nobody is meddling, William. We are all trying to help you—Miss Norcross, Peter, myself—everybody."
"Say, who's trying to run me, anyhow? What is this—a League of Nations, or what?"
"William!"
But Bill was becoming reckless. The more he heard of this diabolical plot the more he was determined to wipe Pete Stearns summarily out of his life. How many were there in this scheme? He glared accusingly at his secretary.
This time she met his glance steadily. There was something so purposeful in her gaze that it held his attention. Her gray eyes seemed to be telegraphing, but he could not read the message. She flashed a side glance toward Aunt Caroline. With no apparent purpose she lifted her napkin, but instead of putting it to her lips she laid her finger across them.