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diff --git a/old/10554-0.txt b/old/10554-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7ee3ade..0000000 --- a/old/10554-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10850 +0,0 @@ -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10554 *** - - - - -RIGHT HO, JEEVES - -By - -P. G. WODEHOUSE - - - - -To - -RAYMOND NEEDHAM, K.C. - -WITH AFFECTION AND ADMIRATION - - - - --1- - - -“Jeeves,” I said, “may I speak frankly?” - -“Certainly, sir.” - -“What I have to say may wound you.” - -“Not at all, sir.” - -“Well, then----” - -No--wait. Hold the line a minute. I’ve gone off the rails. - - -I don’t know if you have had the same experience, but the snag I always -come up against when I’m telling a story is this dashed difficult -problem of where to begin it. It’s a thing you don’t want to go wrong -over, because one false step and you’re sunk. I mean, if you fool about -too long at the start, trying to establish atmosphere, as they call it, -and all that sort of rot, you fail to grip and the customers walk out -on you. - -Get off the mark, on the other hand, like a scalded cat, and your -public is at a loss. It simply raises its eyebrows, and can’t make out -what you’re talking about. - -And in opening my report of the complex case of Gussie Fink-Nottle, -Madeline Bassett, my Cousin Angela, my Aunt Dahlia, my Uncle Thomas, -young Tuppy Glossop and the cook, Anatole, with the above spot of -dialogue, I see that I have made the second of these two floaters. - -I shall have to hark back a bit. And taking it for all in all and -weighing this against that, I suppose the affair may be said to have -had its inception, if inception is the word I want, with that visit of -mine to Cannes. If I hadn’t gone to Cannes, I shouldn’t have met the -Bassett or bought that white mess jacket, and Angela wouldn’t have met -her shark, and Aunt Dahlia wouldn’t have played baccarat. - -Yes, most decidedly, Cannes was the _point d’appui_. - -Right ho, then. Let me marshal my facts. - -I went to Cannes--leaving Jeeves behind, he having intimated that he -did not wish to miss Ascot--round about the beginning of June. With -me travelled my Aunt Dahlia and her daughter Angela. Tuppy Glossop, -Angela’s betrothed, was to have been of the party, but at the last -moment couldn’t get away. Uncle Tom, Aunt Dahlia’s husband, remained at -home, because he can’t stick the South of France at any price. - -So there you have the layout--Aunt Dahlia, Cousin Angela and self off -to Cannes round about the beginning of June. - -All pretty clear so far, what? - -We stayed at Cannes about two months, and except for the fact that Aunt -Dahlia lost her shirt at baccarat and Angela nearly got inhaled by a -shark while aquaplaning, a pleasant time was had by all. - -On July the twenty-fifth, looking bronzed and fit, I accompanied aunt -and child back to London. At seven p.m. on July the twenty-sixth we -alighted at Victoria. And at seven-twenty or thereabouts we parted -with mutual expressions of esteem--they to shove off in Aunt Dahlia’s -car to Brinkley Court, her place in Worcestershire, where they were -expecting to entertain Tuppy in a day or two; I to go to the flat, drop -my luggage, clean up a bit, and put on the soup and fish preparatory to -pushing round to the Drones for a bite of dinner. - -And it was while I was at the flat, towelling the torso after a -much-needed rinse, that Jeeves, as we chatted of this and that--picking -up the threads, as it were--suddenly brought the name of Gussie -Fink-Nottle into the conversation. - -As I recall it, the dialogue ran something as follows: - -SELF: Well, Jeeves, here we are, what? - -JEEVES: Yes, sir. - -SELF: I mean to say, home again. - -JEEVES: Precisely, sir. - -SELF: Seems ages since I went away. - -JEEVES: Yes, sir. - -SELF: Have a good time at Ascot? - -JEEVES: Most agreeable, sir. - -SELF: Win anything? - -JEEVES: Quite a satisfactory sum, thank you, sir. - -SELF: Good. Well, Jeeves, what news on the Rialto? Anybody been phoning -or calling or anything during my abs.? - -JEEVES: Mr. Fink-Nottle, sir, has been a frequent caller. - -I stared. Indeed, it would not be too much to say that I gaped. - -“Mr. Fink-Nottle?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“You don’t mean Mr. Fink-Nottle?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“But Mr. Fink-Nottle’s not in London?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Well, I’m blowed.” - -And I’ll tell you why I was blowed. I found it scarcely possible to -give credence to his statement. This Fink-Nottle, you see, was one of -those freaks you come across from time to time during life’s journey -who can’t stand London. He lived year in and year out, covered with -moss, in a remote village down in Lincolnshire, never coming up even -for the Eton and Harrow match. And when I asked him once if he didn’t -find the time hang a bit heavy on his hands, he said, no, because he -had a pond in his garden and studied the habits of newts. - -I couldn’t imagine what could have brought the chap up to the great -city. I would have been prepared to bet that as long as the supply of -newts didn’t give out, nothing could have shifted him from that village -of his. - -“Are you sure?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“You got the name correctly? Fink-Nottle?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Well, it’s the most extraordinary thing. It must be five years since -he was in London. He makes no secret of the fact that the place gives -him the pip. Until now, he has always stayed glued to the country, -completely surrounded by newts.” - -“Sir?” - -“Newts, Jeeves. Mr. Fink-Nottle has a strong newt complex. You must -have heard of newts. Those little sort of lizard things that charge -about in ponds.” - -“Oh, yes, sir. The aquatic members of the family Salamandridae which -constitute the genus Molge.” - -“That’s right. Well, Gussie has always been a slave to them. He used to -keep them at school.” - -“I believe young gentlemen frequently do, sir.” - -“He kept them in his study in a kind of glass-tank arrangement, and -pretty niffy the whole thing was, I recall. I suppose one ought to have -been able to see what the end would be even then, but you know what -boys are. Careless, heedless, busy about our own affairs, we scarcely -gave this kink in Gussie’s character a thought. We may have exchanged -an occasional remark about it taking all sorts to make a world, but -nothing more. You can guess the sequel. The trouble spread.” - -“Indeed, sir?” - -“Absolutely, Jeeves. The craving grew upon him. The newts got him. -Arrived at man’s estate, he retired to the depths of the country and -gave his life up to these dumb chums. I suppose he used to tell himself -that he could take them or leave them alone, and then found--too -late--that he couldn’t.” - -“It is often the way, sir.” - -“Too true, Jeeves. At any rate, for the last five years he has been -living at this place of his down in Lincolnshire, as confirmed a -species-shunning hermit as ever put fresh water in the tank every -second day and refused to see a soul. That’s why I was so amazed when -you told me he had suddenly risen to the surface like this. I still -can’t believe it. I am inclined to think that there must be some -mistake, and that this bird who has been calling here is some different -variety of Fink-Nottle. The chap I know wears horn-rimmed spectacles -and has a face like a fish. How does that check up with your data?” - -“The gentleman who came to the flat wore horn-rimmed spectacles, sir.” - -“And looked like something on a slab?” - -“Possibly there was a certain suggestion of the piscine, sir.” - -“Then it must be Gussie, I suppose. But what on earth can have brought -him up to London?” - -“I am in a position to explain that, sir. Mr. Fink-Nottle confided to -me his motive in visiting the metropolis. He came because the young -lady is here.” - -“Young lady?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“You don’t mean he’s in love?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Well, I’m dashed. I’m really dashed. I positively am dashed, Jeeves.” - -And I was too. I mean to say, a joke’s a joke, but there are limits. - -Then I found my mind turning to another aspect of this rummy affair. -Conceding the fact that Gussie Fink-Nottle, against all the ruling -of the form book, might have fallen in love, why should he have been -haunting my flat like this? No doubt the occasion was one of those when -a fellow needs a friend, but I couldn’t see what had made him pick on -me. - -It wasn’t as if he and I were in any way bosom. We had seen a lot of -each other at one time, of course, but in the last two years I hadn’t -had so much as a post card from him. - -I put all this to Jeeves: - -“Odd, his coming to me. Still, if he did, he did. No argument about -that. It must have been a nasty jar for the poor perisher when he found -I wasn’t here.” - -“No, sir. Mr. Fink-Nottle did not call to see you, sir.” - -“Pull yourself together, Jeeves. You’ve just told me that this is what -he has been doing, and assiduously, at that.” - -“It was I with whom he was desirous of establishing communication, sir.” - -“You? But I didn’t know you had ever met him.” - -“I had not had that pleasure until he called here, sir. But it appears -that Mr. Sipperley, a fellow student with whom Mr. Fink-Nottle had been -at the university, recommended him to place his affairs in my hands.” - -The mystery had conked. I saw all. As I dare say you know, Jeeves’s -reputation as a counsellor has long been established among the -cognoscenti, and the first move of any of my little circle on -discovering themselves in any form of soup is always to roll round and -put the thing up to him. And when he’s got A out of a bad spot, A puts -B on to him. And then, when he has fixed up B, B sends C along. And so -on, if you get my drift, and so forth. - -That’s how these big consulting practices like Jeeves’s grow. Old -Sippy, I knew, had been deeply impressed by the man’s efforts on his -behalf at the time when he was trying to get engaged to Elizabeth Moon, -so it was not to be wondered at that he should have advised Gussie to -apply. Pure routine, you might say. - -“Oh, you’re acting for him, are you?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Now I follow. Now I understand. And what is Gussie’s trouble?” - -“Oddly enough, sir, precisely the same as that of Mr. Sipperley when -I was enabled to be of assistance to him. No doubt you recall Mr. -Sipperley’s predicament, sir. Deeply attached to Miss Moon, he suffered -from a rooted diffidence which made it impossible for him to speak.” - -I nodded. - -“I remember. Yes, I recall the Sipperley case. He couldn’t bring -himself to the scratch. A marked coldness of the feet, was there not? I -recollect you saying he was letting--what was it?--letting something do -something. Cats entered into it, if I am not mistaken.” - -“Letting ‘I dare not’ wait upon ‘I would’, sir.” - -“That’s right. But how about the cats?” - -“Like the poor cat i’ the adage, sir.” - -“Exactly. It beats me how you think up these things. And Gussie, you -say, is in the same posish?” - -“Yes, sir. Each time he endeavours to formulate a proposal of marriage, -his courage fails him.” - -“And yet, if he wants this female to be his wife, he’s got to say so, -what? I mean, only civil to mention it.” - -“Precisely, sir.” - -I mused. - -“Well, I suppose this was inevitable, Jeeves. I wouldn’t have thought -that this Fink-Nottle would ever have fallen a victim to the divine -_p_, but, if he has, no wonder he finds the going sticky.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Look at the life he’s led.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“I don’t suppose he has spoken to a girl for years. What a lesson this -is to us, Jeeves, not to shut ourselves up in country houses and stare -into glass tanks. You can’t be the dominant male if you do that sort of -thing. In this life, you can choose between two courses. You can either -shut yourself up in a country house and stare into tanks, or you can be -a dasher with the sex. You can’t do both.” - -“No, sir.” - -I mused once more. Gussie and I, as I say, had rather lost touch, but -all the same I was exercised about the poor fish, as I am about all my -pals, close or distant, who find themselves treading upon Life’s banana -skins. It seemed to me that he was up against it. - -I threw my mind back to the last time I had seen him. About two years -ago, it had been. I had looked in at his place while on a motor trip, -and he had put me right off my feed by bringing a couple of green -things with legs to the luncheon table, crooning over them like a -young mother and eventually losing one of them in the salad. That -picture, rising before my eyes, didn’t give me much confidence in the -unfortunate goof’s ability to woo and win, I must say. Especially if -the girl he had earmarked was one of these tough modern thugs, all -lipstick and cool, hard, sardonic eyes, as she probably was. - -“Tell me, Jeeves,” I said, wishing to know the worst, “what sort of a -girl is this girl of Gussie’s?” - -“I have not met the young lady, sir. Mr. Fink-Nottle speaks highly of -her attractions.” - -“Seemed to like her, did he?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Did he mention her name? Perhaps I know her.” - -“She is a Miss Bassett, sir. Miss Madeline Bassett.” - -“What?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -I was deeply intrigued. - -“Egad, Jeeves! Fancy that. It’s a small world, isn’t it, what?” - -“The young lady is an acquaintance of yours, sir?” - -“I know her well. Your news has relieved my mind, Jeeves. It makes -the whole thing begin to seem far more like a practical working -proposition.” - -“Indeed, sir?” - -“Absolutely. I confess that until you supplied this information I was -feeling profoundly dubious about poor old Gussie’s chances of inducing -any spinster of any parish to join him in the saunter down the aisle. -You will agree with me that he is not everybody’s money.” - -“There may be something in what you say, sir.” - -“Cleopatra wouldn’t have liked him.” - -“Possibly not, sir.” - -“And I doubt if he would go any too well with Tallulah Bankhead.” - -“No, sir.” - -“But when you tell me that the object of his affections is Miss -Bassett, why, then, Jeeves, hope begins to dawn a bit. He’s just the -sort of chap a girl like Madeline Bassett might scoop in with relish.” - -This Bassett, I must explain, had been a fellow visitor of ours at -Cannes; and as she and Angela had struck up one of those effervescent -friendships which girls do strike up, I had seen quite a bit of her. -Indeed, in my moodier moments it sometimes seemed to me that I could -not move a step without stubbing my toe on the woman. - -And what made it all so painful and distressing was that the more we -met, the less did I seem able to find to say to her. - -You know how it is with some girls. They seem to take the stuffing -right out of you. I mean to say, there is something about their -personality that paralyses the vocal cords and reduces the contents -of the brain to cauliflower. It was like that with this Bassett and -me; so much so that I have known occasions when for minutes at a -stretch Bertram Wooster might have been observed fumbling with the -tie, shuffling the feet, and behaving in all other respects in her -presence like the complete dumb brick. When, therefore, she took her -departure some two weeks before we did, you may readily imagine that, -in Bertram’s opinion, it was not a day too soon. - -It was not her beauty, mark you, that thus numbed me. She was a pretty -enough girl in a droopy, blonde, saucer-eyed way, but not the sort of -breath-taker that takes the breath. - -No, what caused this disintegration in a usually fairly fluent prattler -with the sex was her whole mental attitude. I don’t want to wrong -anybody, so I won’t go so far as to say that she actually wrote poetry, -but her conversation, to my mind, was of a nature calculated to excite -the liveliest suspicions. Well, I mean to say, when a girl suddenly -asks you out of a blue sky if you don’t sometimes feel that the stars -are God’s daisy-chain, you begin to think a bit. - -As regards the fusing of her soul and mine, therefore, there was -nothing doing. But with Gussie, the posish was entirely different. The -thing that had stymied me--viz. that this girl was obviously all loaded -down with ideals and sentiment and what not--was quite in order as far -as he was concerned. - -Gussie had always been one of those dreamy, soulful birds--you can’t -shut yourself up in the country and live only for newts, if you’re -not--and I could see no reason why, if he could somehow be induced to -get the low, burning words off his chest, he and the Bassett shouldn’t -hit it off like ham and eggs. - -“She’s just the type for him,” I said. - -“I am most gratified to hear it, sir.” - -“And he’s just the type for her. In fine, a good thing and one to be -pushed along with the utmost energy. Strain every nerve, Jeeves.” - -“Very good, sir,” replied the honest fellow. “I will attend to the -matter at once.” - -Now up to this point, as you will doubtless agree, what you might call -a perfect harmony had prevailed. Friendly gossip between employer and -employed, and everything as sweet as a nut. But at this juncture, I -regret to say, there was an unpleasant switch. The atmosphere suddenly -changed, the storm clouds began to gather, and before we knew where we -were, the jarring note had come bounding on the scene. I have known -this to happen before in the Wooster home. - -The first intimation I had that things were about to hot up was a -pained and disapproving cough from the neighbourhood of the carpet. -For, during the above exchanges, I should explain, while I, having -dried the frame, had been dressing in a leisurely manner, donning here -a sock, there a shoe, and gradually climbing into the vest, the shirt, -the tie, and the knee-length, Jeeves had been down on the lower level, -unpacking my effects. - -He now rose, holding a white object. And at the sight of it, I realized -that another of our domestic crises had arrived, another of those -unfortunate clashes of will between two strong men, and that Bertram, -unless he remembered his fighting ancestors and stood up for his -rights, was about to be put upon. - -I don’t know if you were at Cannes this summer. If you were, you will -recall that anybody with any pretensions to being the life and soul of -the party was accustomed to attend binges at the Casino in the ordinary -evening-wear trouserings topped to the north by a white mess-jacket -with brass buttons. And ever since I had stepped aboard the Blue Train -at Cannes station, I had been wondering on and off how mine would go -with Jeeves. - -In the matter of evening costume, you see, Jeeves is hidebound and -reactionary. I had had trouble with him before about soft-bosomed -shirts. And while these mess-jackets had, as I say, been all the -rage--_tout ce qu’il y a de chic_--on the Côte d’Azur, I had never -concealed it from myself, even when treading the measure at the Palm -Beach Casino in the one I had hastened to buy, that there might be -something of an upheaval about it on my return. - -I prepared to be firm. - -“Yes, Jeeves?” I said. And though my voice was suave, a close observer -in a position to watch my eyes would have noticed a steely glint. -Nobody has a greater respect for Jeeves’s intellect than I have, but -this disposition of his to dictate to the hand that fed him had got, I -felt, to be checked. This mess-jacket was very near to my heart, and I -jolly well intended to fight for it with all the vim of grand old Sieur -de Wooster at the Battle of Agincourt. - -“Yes, Jeeves?” I said. “Something on your mind, Jeeves?” - -“I fear that you inadvertently left Cannes in the possession of a coat -belonging to some other gentleman, sir.” - -I switched on the steely a bit more. - -“No, Jeeves,” I said, in a level tone, “the object under advisement is -mine. I bought it out there.” - -“You wore it, sir?” - -“Every night.” - -“But surely you are not proposing to wear it in England, sir?” - -I saw that we had arrived at the nub. - -“Yes, Jeeves.” - -“But, sir----” - -“You were saying, Jeeves?” - -“It is quite unsuitable, sir.” - -“I do not agree with you, Jeeves. I anticipate a great popular success -for this jacket. It is my intention to spring it on the public tomorrow -at Pongo Twistleton’s birthday party, where I confidently expect it -to be one long scream from start to finish. No argument, Jeeves. No -discussion. Whatever fantastic objection you may have taken to it, I -wear this jacket.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -He went on with his unpacking. I said no more on the subject. I had -won the victory, and we Woosters do not triumph over a beaten foe. -Presently, having completed my toilet, I bade the man a cheery farewell -and in generous mood suggested that, as I was dining out, why didn’t -he take the evening off and go to some improving picture or something. -Sort of olive branch, if you see what I mean. - -He didn’t seem to think much of it. - -“Thank you, sir, I will remain in.” - -I surveyed him narrowly. - -“Is this dudgeon, Jeeves?” - -“No, sir, I am obliged to remain on the premises. Mr. Fink-Nottle -informed me he would be calling to see me this evening.” - -“Oh, Gussie’s coming, is he? Well, give him my love.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And a whisky and soda, and so forth.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“Right ho, Jeeves.” - -I then set off for the Drones. - -At the Drones I ran into Pongo Twistleton, and he talked so much about -this forthcoming merry-making of his, of which good reports had already -reached me through my correspondents, that it was nearing eleven when I -got home again. - -And scarcely had I opened the door when I heard voices in the -sitting-room, and scarcely had I entered the sitting-room when I found -that these proceeded from Jeeves and what appeared at first sight to be -the Devil. - -A closer scrutiny informed me that it was Gussie Fink-Nottle, dressed -as Mephistopheles. - - - - --2- - - -“What-ho, Gussie,” I said. - -You couldn’t have told it from my manner, but I was feeling more than a -bit nonplussed. The spectacle before me was enough to nonplus anyone. -I mean to say, this Fink-Nottle, as I remembered him, was the sort of -shy, shrinking goop who might have been expected to shake like an aspen -if invited to so much as a social Saturday afternoon at the vicarage. -And yet here he was, if one could credit one’s senses, about to take -part in a fancy-dress ball, a form of entertainment notoriously a -testing experience for the toughest. - -And he was attending that fancy-dress ball, mark you--not, like every -other well-bred Englishman, as a Pierrot, but as Mephistopheles--this -involving, as I need scarcely stress, not only scarlet tights but a -pretty frightful false beard. - -Rummy, you’ll admit. However, one masks one’s feelings. I betrayed no -vulgar astonishment, but, as I say, what-hoed with civil nonchalance. - -He grinned through the fungus--rather sheepishly, I thought. - -“Oh, hullo, Bertie.” - -“Long time since I saw you. Have a spot?” - -“No, thanks. I must be off in a minute. I just came round to ask Jeeves -how he thought I looked. How do you think I look, Bertie?” - -Well, the answer to that, of course, was “perfectly foul”. But we -Woosters are men of tact and have a nice sense of the obligations of a -host. We do not tell old friends beneath our roof-tree that they are an -offence to the eyesight. I evaded the question. - -“I hear you’re in London,” I said carelessly. - -“Oh, yes.” - -“Must be years since you came up.” - -“Oh, yes.” - -“And now you’re off for an evening’s pleasure.” - -He shuddered a bit. He had, I noticed, a hunted air. - -“Pleasure!” - -“Aren’t you looking forward to this rout or revel?” - -“Oh, I suppose it’ll be all right,” he said, in a toneless voice. -“Anyway, I ought to be off, I suppose. The thing starts round about -eleven. I told my cab to wait.... Will you see if it’s there, Jeeves?” - -“Very good, sir.” - -There was something of a pause after the door had closed. A certain -constraint. I mixed myself a beaker, while Gussie, a glutton for -punishment, stared at himself in the mirror. Finally I decided that it -would be best to let him know that I was abreast of his affairs. It -might be that it would ease his mind to confide in a sympathetic man -of experience. I have generally found, with those under the influence, -that what they want more than anything is the listening ear. - -“Well, Gussie, old leper,” I said, “I’ve been hearing all about you.” - -“Eh?” - -“This little trouble of yours. Jeeves has told me everything.” - -He didn’t seem any too braced. It’s always difficult to be sure, of -course, when a chap has dug himself in behind a Mephistopheles beard, -but I fancy he flushed a trifle. - -“I wish Jeeves wouldn’t go gassing all over the place. It was supposed -to be confidential.” - -I could not permit this tone. - -“Dishing up the dirt to the young master can scarcely be described as -gassing all over the place,” I said, with a touch of rebuke. “Anyway, -there it is. I know all. And I should like to begin,” I said, sinking -my personal opinion that the female in question was a sloppy pest in -my desire to buck and encourage, “by saying that Madeline Bassett is a -charming girl. A winner, and just the sort for you.” - -“You don’t know her?” - -“Certainly I know her. What beats me is how you ever got in touch. -Where did you meet?” - -“She was staying at a place near mine in Lincolnshire the week before -last.” - -“Yes, but even so. I didn’t know you called on the neighbours.” - -“I don’t. I met her out for a walk with her dog. The dog had got a -thorn in its foot, and when she tried to take it out, it snapped at -her. So, of course, I had to rally round.” - -“You extracted the thorn?” - -“Yes.” - -“And fell in love at first sight?” - -“Yes.” - -“Well, dash it, with a thing like that to give you a send-off, why -didn’t you cash in immediately?” - -“I hadn’t the nerve.” - -“What happened?” - -“We talked for a bit.” - -“What about?” - -“Oh, birds.” - -“Birds? What birds?” - -“The birds that happened to be hanging round. And the scenery, and all -that sort of thing. And she said she was going to London, and asked me -to look her up if I was ever there.” - -“And even after that you didn’t so much as press her hand?” - -“Of course not.” - -Well, I mean, it looked as though there was no more to be said. If -a chap is such a rabbit that he can’t get action when he’s handed -the thing on a plate, his case would appear to be pretty hopeless. -Nevertheless, I reminded myself that this non-starter and I had been at -school together. One must make an effort for an old school friend. - -“Ah, well,” I said, “we must see what can be done. Things may brighten. -At any rate, you will be glad to learn that I am behind you in this -enterprise. You have Bertram Wooster in your corner, Gussie.” - -“Thanks, old man. And Jeeves, of course, which is the thing that really -matters.” - -I don’t mind admitting that I winced. He meant no harm, I suppose, but -I’m bound to say that this tactless speech nettled me not a little. -People are always nettling me like that. Giving me to understand, I -mean to say, that in their opinion Bertram Wooster is a mere cipher -and that the only member of the household with brains and resources is -Jeeves. - -It jars on me. - -And tonight it jarred on me more than usual, because I was feeling -pretty dashed fed with Jeeves. Over that matter of the mess jacket, I -mean. True, I had forced him to climb down, quelling him, as described, -with the quiet strength of my personality, but I was still a trifle -shirty at his having brought the thing up at all. It seemed to me that -what Jeeves wanted was the iron hand. - -“And what is he doing about it?” I inquired stiffly. - -“He’s been giving the position of affairs a lot of thought.” - -“He has, has he?” - -“It’s on his advice that I’m going to this dance.” - -“Why?” - -“She is going to be there. In fact, it was she who sent me the ticket -of invitation. And Jeeves considered----” - -“And why not as a Pierrot?” I said, taking up the point which had -struck me before. “Why this break with a grand old tradition?” - -“He particularly wanted me to go as Mephistopheles.” - -I started. - -“He did, did he? He specifically recommended that definite costume?” - -“Yes.” - -“Ha!” - -“Eh?” - -“Nothing. Just ‘Ha!’” - -And I’ll tell you why I said “Ha!” Here was Jeeves making heavy weather -about me wearing a perfectly ordinary white mess jacket, a garment not -only _tout ce qu’il y a de chic_, but absolutely _de rigueur_, and in -the same breath, as you might say, inciting Gussie Fink-Nottle to be a -blot on the London scene in scarlet tights. Ironical, what? One looks -askance at this sort of in-and-out running. - -“What has he got against Pierrots?” - -“I don’t think he objects to Pierrots as Pierrots. But in my case he -thought a Pierrot wouldn’t be adequate.” - -“I don’t follow that.” - -“He said that the costume of Pierrot, while pleasing to the eye, lacked -the authority of the Mephistopheles costume.” - -“I still don’t get it.” - -“Well, it’s a matter of psychology, he said.” - -There was a time when a remark like that would have had me snookered. -But long association with Jeeves has developed the Wooster vocabulary -considerably. Jeeves has always been a whale for the psychology of the -individual, and I now follow him like a bloodhound when he snaps it out -of the bag. - -“Oh, psychology?” - -“Yes. Jeeves is a great believer in the moral effect of clothes. He -thinks I might be emboldened in a striking costume like this. He said -a Pirate Chief would be just as good. In fact, a Pirate Chief was his -first suggestion, but I objected to the boots.” - -I saw his point. There is enough sadness in life without having fellows -like Gussie Fink-Nottle going about in sea boots. - -“And are you emboldened?” - -“Well, to be absolutely accurate, Bertie, old man, no.” - -A gust of compassion shook me. After all, though we had lost touch a -bit of recent years, this man and I had once thrown inked darts at each -other. - -“Gussie,” I said, “take an old friend’s advice, and don’t go within a -mile of this binge.” - -“But it’s my last chance of seeing her. She’s off tomorrow to stay with -some people in the country. Besides, you don’t know.” - -“Don’t know what?” - -“That this idea of Jeeves’s won’t work. I feel a most frightful chump -now, yes, but who can say whether that will not pass off when I get -into a mob of other people in fancy dress. I had the same experience -as a child, one year during the Christmas festivities. They dressed me -up as a rabbit, and the shame was indescribable. Yet when I got to the -party and found myself surrounded by scores of other children, many -in costumes even ghastlier than my own, I perked up amazingly, joined -freely in the revels, and was able to eat so hearty a supper that I was -sick twice in the cab coming home. What I mean is, you can’t tell in -cold blood.” - -I weighed this. It was specious, of course. - -“And you can’t get away from it that, fundamentally, Jeeves’s idea is -sound. In a striking costume like Mephistopheles, I might quite easily -pull off something pretty impressive. Colour does make a difference. -Look at newts. During the courting season the male newt is brilliantly -coloured. It helps him a lot.” - -“But you aren’t a male newt.” - -“I wish I were. Do you know how a male newt proposes, Bertie? He just -stands in front of the female newt vibrating his tail and bending his -body in a semi-circle. I could do that on my head. No, you wouldn’t -find me grousing if I were a male newt.” - -“But if you were a male newt, Madeline Bassett wouldn’t look at you. -Not with the eye of love, I mean.” - -“She would, if she were a female newt.” - -“But she isn’t a female newt.” - -“No, but suppose she was.” - -“Well, if she was, you wouldn’t be in love with her.” - -“Yes, I would, if I were a male newt.” - -A slight throbbing about the temples told me that this discussion had -reached saturation point. - -“Well, anyway,” I said, “coming down to hard facts and cutting out all -this visionary stuff about vibrating tails and what not, the salient -point that emerges is that you are booked to appear at a fancy-dress -ball. And I tell you out of my riper knowledge of fancy-dress balls, -Gussie, that you won’t enjoy yourself.” - -“It isn’t a question of enjoying yourself.” - -“I wouldn’t go.” - -“I must go. I keep telling you she’s off to the country tomorrow.” - -I gave it up. - -“So be it,” I said. “Have it your own way.... Yes, Jeeves?” - -“Mr. Fink-Nottle’s cab, sir.” - -“Ah? The cab, eh?... Your cab, Gussie.” - -“Oh, the cab? Oh, right. Of course, yes, rather.... Thanks, Jeeves ... -Well, so long, Bertie.” - -And giving me the sort of weak smile Roman gladiators used to give the -Emperor before entering the arena, Gussie trickled off. And I turned to -Jeeves. The moment had arrived for putting him in his place, and I was -all for it. - -It was a little difficult to know how to begin, of course. I mean to -say, while firmly resolved to tick him off, I didn’t want to gash his -feelings too deeply. Even when displaying the iron hand, we Woosters -like to keep the thing fairly matey. - -However, on consideration, I saw that there was nothing to be gained by -trying to lead up to it gently. It is never any use beating about the b. - -“Jeeves,” I said, “may I speak frankly?” - -“Certainly, sir.” - -“What I have to say may wound you.” - -“Not at all, sir.” - -“Well, then, I have been having a chat with Mr. Fink-Nottle, and he has -been telling me about this Mephistopheles scheme of yours.” - -“Yes, sir?” - -“Now let me get it straight. If I follow your reasoning correctly, -you think that, stimulated by being upholstered throughout in scarlet -tights, Mr. Fink-Nottle, on encountering the adored object, will -vibrate his tail and generally let himself go with a whoop.” - -“I am of opinion that he will lose much of his normal diffidence, sir.” - -“I don’t agree with you, Jeeves.” - -“No, sir?” - -“No. In fact, not to put too fine a point upon it, I consider that of -all the dashed silly, drivelling ideas I ever heard in my puff this -is the most blithering and futile. It won’t work. Not a chance. All -you have done is to subject Mr. Fink-Nottle to the nameless horrors -of a fancy-dress ball for nothing. And this is not the first time -this sort of thing has happened. To be quite candid, Jeeves, I have -frequently noticed before now a tendency or disposition on your part to -become--what’s the word?” - -“I could not say, sir.” - -“Eloquent? No, it’s not eloquent. Elusive? No, it’s not elusive. It’s -on the tip of my tongue. Begins with an ‘e’ and means being a jolly -sight too clever.” - -“Elaborate, sir?” - -“That is the exact word I was after. Too elaborate, Jeeves--that is -what you are frequently prone to become. Your methods are not simple, -not straightforward. You cloud the issue with a lot of fancy stuff that -is not of the essence. All that Gussie needs is the elder-brotherly -advice of a seasoned man of the world. So what I suggest is that from -now onward you leave this case to me.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“You lay off and devote yourself to your duties about the home.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“I shall no doubt think of something quite simple and straightforward -yet perfectly effective ere long. I will make a point of seeing Gussie -tomorrow.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“Right ho, Jeeves.” - -But on the morrow all those telegrams started coming in, and I confess -that for twenty-four hours I didn’t give the poor chap a thought, -having problems of my own to contend with. - - - - --3- - - -The first of the telegrams arrived shortly after noon, and Jeeves -brought it in with the before-luncheon snifter. It was from my Aunt -Dahlia, operating from Market Snodsbury, a small town of sorts a mile -or two along the main road as you leave her country seat. - -It ran as follows: - - _Come at once. Travers._ - -And when I say it puzzled me like the dickens, I am understating it; -if anything. As mysterious a communication, I considered, as was ever -flashed over the wires. I studied it in a profound reverie for the best -part of two dry Martinis and a dividend. I read it backwards. I read it -forwards. As a matter of fact, I have a sort of recollection of even -smelling it. But it still baffled me. - -Consider the facts, I mean. It was only a few hours since this aunt -and I had parted, after being in constant association for nearly two -months. And yet here she was--with my farewell kiss still lingering on -her cheek, so to speak--pleading for another reunion. Bertram Wooster -is not accustomed to this gluttonous appetite for his society. Ask -anyone who knows me, and they will tell you that after two months of my -company, what the normal person feels is that that will about do for -the present. Indeed, I have known people who couldn’t stick it out for -more than a few days. - -Before sitting down to the well-cooked, therefore, I sent this reply: - - _Perplexed. Explain. Bertie._ - -To this I received an answer during the after-luncheon sleep: - - _What on earth is there to be perplexed about, ass? Come at once. - Travers._ - -Three cigarettes and a couple of turns about the room, and I had my -response ready: - - _How do you mean come at once? Regards. Bertie._ - -I append the comeback: - - _I mean come at once, you maddening half-wit. What did you think I - meant? Come at once or expect an aunt’s curse first post tomorrow. - Love. Travers._ - -I then dispatched the following message, wishing to get everything -quite clear: - - _When you say “Come” do you mean “Come to Brinkley Court”? And when - you say “At once” do you mean “At once”? Fogged. At a loss. All the - best. Bertie._ - -I sent this one off on my way to the Drones, where I spent a restful -afternoon throwing cards into a top-hat with some of the better -element. Returning in the evening hush, I found the answer waiting for -me: - - _Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. It doesn’t matter whether you - understand or not. You just come at once, as I tell you, and for - heaven’s sake stop this back-chat. Do you think I am made of money - that I can afford to send you telegrams every ten minutes. Stop - being a fathead and come immediately. Love. Travers._ - -It was at this point that I felt the need of getting a second opinion. -I pressed the bell. - -“Jeeves,” I said, “a V-shaped rumminess has manifested itself from -the direction of Worcestershire. Read these,” I said, handing him the -papers in the case. - -He scanned them. - -“What do you make of it, Jeeves?” - -“I think Mrs. Travers wishes you to come at once, sir.” - -“You gather that too, do you?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“I put the same construction on the thing. But why, Jeeves? Dash it -all, she’s just had nearly two months of me.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And many people consider the medium dose for an adult two days.” - -“Yes, sir. I appreciate the point you raise. Nevertheless, Mrs. Travers -appears very insistent. I think it would be well to acquiesce in her -wishes.” - -“Pop down, you mean?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Well, I certainly can’t go at once. I’ve an important conference on at -the Drones tonight. Pongo Twistleton’s birthday party, you remember.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -There was a slight pause. We were both recalling the little -unpleasantness that had arisen. I felt obliged to allude to it. - -“You’re all wrong about that mess jacket, Jeeves.” - -“These things are matters of opinion, sir.” - -“When I wore it at the Casino at Cannes, beautiful women nudged one -another and whispered: ‘Who is he?’” - -“The code at Continental casinos is notoriously lax, sir.” - -“And when I described it to Pongo last night, he was fascinated.” - -“Indeed, sir?” - -“So were all the rest of those present. One and all admitted that I had -got hold of a good thing. Not a dissentient voice.” - -“Indeed, sir?” - -“I am convinced that you will eventually learn to love this -mess-jacket, Jeeves.” - -“I fear not, sir.” - -I gave it up. It is never any use trying to reason with Jeeves on these -occasions. “Pig-headed” is the word that springs to the lips. One sighs -and passes on. - -“Well, anyway, returning to the agenda, I can’t go down to Brinkley -Court or anywhere else yet awhile. That’s final. I’ll tell you what, -Jeeves. Give me form and pencil, and I’ll wire her that I’ll be with -her some time next week or the week after. Dash it all, she ought to -be able to hold out without me for a few days. It only requires will -power.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Right ho, then. I’ll wire ‘Expect me tomorrow fortnight’ or words to -some such effect. That ought to meet the case. Then if you will toddle -round the corner and send it off, that will be that.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -And so the long day wore on till it was time for me to dress for -Pongo’s party. - -Pongo had assured me, while chatting of the affair on the previous -night, that this birthday binge of his was to be on a scale calculated -to stagger humanity, and I must say I have participated in less fruity -functions. It was well after four when I got home, and by that time I -was about ready to turn in. I can just remember groping for the bed -and crawling into it, and it seemed to me that the lemon had scarcely -touched the pillow before I was aroused by the sound of the door -opening. - -I was barely ticking over, but I contrived to raise an eyelid. - -“Is that my tea, Jeeves?” - -“No, sir. It is Mrs. Travers.” - -And a moment later there was a sound like a mighty rushing wind, and -the relative had crossed the threshold at fifty m.p.h. under her own -steam. - - - - --4- - - -It has been well said of Bertram Wooster that, while no one views his -flesh and blood with a keener and more remorselessly critical eye, -he is nevertheless a man who delights in giving credit where credit -is due. And if you have followed these memoirs of mine with the -proper care, you will be aware that I have frequently had occasion to -emphasise the fact that Aunt Dahlia is all right. - -She is the one, if you remember, who married old Tom Travers _en -secondes noces_, as I believe the expression is, the year Bluebottle -won the Cambridgeshire, and once induced me to write an article on What -the Well-Dressed Man is Wearing for that paper she runs--_Milady’s -Boudoir_. She is a large, genial soul, with whom it is a pleasure -to hob-nob. In her spiritual make-up there is none of that subtle -gosh-awfulness which renders such an exhibit as, say, my Aunt Agatha -the curse of the Home Counties and a menace to one and all. I have -the highest esteem for Aunt Dahlia, and have never wavered in my -cordial appreciation of her humanity, sporting qualities and general -good-eggishness. - -This being so, you may conceive of my astonishment at finding her at -my bedside at such an hour. I mean to say, I’ve stayed at her place -many a time and oft, and she knows my habits. She is well aware that -until I have had my cup of tea in the morning, I do not receive. This -crashing in at a moment when she knew that solitude and repose were of -the essence was scarcely, I could not but feel, the good old form. - -Besides, what business had she being in London at all? That was what -I asked myself. When a conscientious housewife has returned to her -home after an absence of seven weeks, one does not expect her to start -racing off again the day after her arrival. One feels that she ought -to be sticking round, ministering to her husband, conferring with the -cook, feeding the cat, combing and brushing the Pomeranian--in a word, -staying put. I was more than a little bleary-eyed, but I endeavoured, -as far as the fact that my eyelids were more or less glued together -would permit, to give her an austere and censorious look. - -She didn’t seem to get it. - -“Wake up, Bertie, you old ass!” she cried, in a voice that hit me -between the eyebrows and went out at the back of my head. - -If Aunt Dahlia has a fault, it is that she is apt to address a -_vis-à-vis_ as if he were somebody half a mile away whom she had -observed riding over hounds. A throwback, no doubt, to the time -when she counted the day lost that was not spent in chivvying some -unfortunate fox over the countryside. - -I gave her another of the austere and censorious, and this time it -registered. All the effect it had, however, was to cause her to descend -to personalities. - -“Don’t blink at me in that obscene way,” she said. “I wonder, Bertie,” -she proceeded, gazing at me as I should imagine Gussie would have gazed -at some newt that was not up to sample, “if you have the faintest -conception how perfectly loathsome you look? A cross between an orgy -scene in the movies and some low form of pond life. I suppose you were -out on the tiles last night?” - -“I attended a social function, yes,” I said coldly. “Pongo Twistleton’s -birthday party. I couldn’t let Pongo down. _Noblesse oblige_.” - -“Well, get up and dress.” - -I felt I could not have heard her aright. - -“Get up and dress?” - -“Yes.” - -I turned on the pillow with a little moan, and at this juncture Jeeves -entered with the vital oolong. I clutched at it like a drowning man -at a straw hat. A deep sip or two, and I felt--I won’t say restored, -because a birthday party like Pongo Twistleton’s isn’t a thing you get -restored after with a mere mouthful of tea, but sufficiently the old -Bertram to be able to bend the mind on this awful thing which had come -upon me. - -And the more I bent same, the less could I grasp the trend of the -scenario. - -“What is this, Aunt Dahlia?” I inquired. - -“It looks to me like tea,” was her response. “But you know best. You’re -drinking it.” - -If I hadn’t been afraid of spilling the healing brew, I have little -doubt that I should have given an impatient gesture. I know I felt like -it. - -“Not the contents of this cup. All this. Your barging in and telling me -to get up and dress, and all that rot.” - -“I’ve barged in, as you call it, because my telegrams seemed to produce -no effect. And I told you to get up and dress because I want you to get -up and dress. I’ve come to take you back with me. I like your crust, -wiring that you would come next year or whenever it was. You’re coming -now. I’ve got a job for you.” - -“But I don’t want a job.” - -“What you want, my lad, and what you’re going to get are two very -different things. There is man’s work for you to do at Brinkley Court. -Be ready to the last button in twenty minutes.” - -“But I can’t possibly be ready to any buttons in twenty minutes. I’m -feeling awful.” - -She seemed to consider. - -“Yes,” she said. “I suppose it’s only humane to give you a day or two -to recover. All right, then, I shall expect you on the thirtieth at the -latest.” - -“But, dash it, what is all this? How do you mean, a job? Why a job? -What sort of a job?” - -“I’ll tell you if you’ll only stop talking for a minute. It’s quite an -easy, pleasant job. You will enjoy it. Have you ever heard of Market -Snodsbury Grammar School?” - -“Never.” - -“It’s a grammar school at Market Snodsbury.” - -I told her a little frigidly that I had divined as much. - -“Well, how was I to know that a man with a mind like yours would grasp -it so quickly?” she protested. “All right, then. Market Snodsbury -Grammar School is, as you have guessed, the grammar school at Market -Snodsbury. I’m one of the governors.” - -“You mean one of the governesses.” - -“I don’t mean one of the governesses. Listen, ass. There was a board -of governors at Eton, wasn’t there? Very well. So there is at Market -Snodsbury Grammar School, and I’m a member of it. And they left the -arrangements for the summer prize-giving to me. This prize-giving takes -place on the last--or thirty-first--day of this month. Have you got -that clear?” - -I took another oz. of the life-saving and inclined my head. Even after -a Pongo Twistleton birthday party, I was capable of grasping simple -facts like these. - -“I follow you, yes. I see the point you are trying to make, certainly. -Market ... Snodsbury ... Grammar School ... Board of governors ... -Prize-giving.... Quite. But what’s it got to do with me?” - -“You’re going to give away the prizes.” - -I goggled. Her words did not appear to make sense. They seemed the -mere aimless vapouring of an aunt who has been sitting out in the sun -without a hat. - -“Me?” - -“You.” - -I goggled again. - -“You don’t mean me?” - -“I mean you in person.” - -I goggled a third time. - -“You’re pulling my leg.” - -“I am not pulling your leg. Nothing would induce me to touch your -beastly leg. The vicar was to have officiated, but when I got home -I found a letter from him saying that he had strained a fetlock and -must scratch his nomination. You can imagine the state I was in. I -telephoned all over the place. Nobody would take it on. And then -suddenly I thought of you.” - -I decided to check all this rot at the outset. Nobody is more eager to -oblige deserving aunts than Bertram Wooster, but there are limits, and -sharply defined limits, at that. - -“So you think I’m going to strew prizes at this bally Dotheboys Hall of -yours?” - -“I do.” - -“And make a speech?” - -“Exactly.” - -I laughed derisively. - -“For goodness’ sake, don’t start gargling now. This is serious.” - -“I was laughing.” - -“Oh, were you? Well, I’m glad to see you taking it in this merry -spirit.” - -“Derisively,” I explained. “I won’t do it. That’s final. I simply will -not do it.” - -“You will do it, young Bertie, or never darken my doors again. And you -know what that means. No more of Anatole’s dinners for you.” - -A strong shudder shook me. She was alluding to her _chef_, that superb -artist. A monarch of his profession, unsurpassed--nay, unequalled--at -dishing up the raw material so that it melted in the mouth of the -ultimate consumer, Anatole had always been a magnet that drew me to -Brinkley Court with my tongue hanging out. Many of my happiest moments -had been those which I had spent champing this great man’s roasts and -ragouts, and the prospect of being barred from digging into them in the -future was a numbing one. - -“No, I say, dash it!” - -“I thought that would rattle you. Greedy young pig.” - -“Greedy young pigs have nothing to do with it,” I said with a touch of -hauteur. “One is not a greedy young pig because one appreciates the -cooking of a genius.” - -“Well, I will say I like it myself,” conceded the relative. “But not -another bite of it do you get, if you refuse to do this simple, easy, -pleasant job. No, not so much as another sniff. So put that in your -twelve-inch cigarette-holder and smoke it.” - -I began to feel like some wild thing caught in a snare. - -“But why do you want me? I mean, what am I? Ask yourself that.” - -“I often have.” - -“I mean to say, I’m not the type. You have to have some terrific nib -to give away prizes. I seem to remember, when I was at school, it was -generally a prime minister or somebody.” - -“Ah, but that was at Eton. At Market Snodsbury we aren’t nearly so -choosy. Anybody in spats impresses us.” - -“Why don’t you get Uncle Tom?” - -“Uncle Tom!” - -“Well, why not? He’s got spats.” - -“Bertie,” she said, “I will tell you why not Uncle Tom. You remember me -losing all that money at baccarat at Cannes? Well, very shortly I shall -have to sidle up to Tom and break the news to him. If, right after -that, I ask him to put on lavender gloves and a topper and distribute -the prizes at Market Snodsbury Grammar School, there will be a divorce -in the family. He would pin a note to the pincushion and be off like a -rabbit. No, my lad, you’re for it, so you may as well make the best of -it.” - -“But, Aunt Dahlia, listen to reason. I assure you, you’ve got hold -of the wrong man. I’m hopeless at a game like that. Ask Jeeves about -the time I got lugged in to address a girls’ school. I made the most -colossal ass of myself.” - -“And I confidently anticipate that you will make an equally colossal -ass of yourself on the thirty-first of this month. That’s why I want -you. The way I look at it is that, as the thing is bound to be a frost, -anyway, one may as well get a hearty laugh out of it. I shall enjoy -seeing you distribute those prizes, Bertie. Well, I won’t keep you, as, -no doubt, you want to do your Swedish exercises. I shall expect you in -a day or two.” - -And with these heartless words she beetled off, leaving me a prey to -the gloomiest emotions. What with the natural reaction after Pongo’s -party and this stunning blow, it is not too much to say that the soul -was seared. - -And I was still writhing in the depths, when the door opened and Jeeves -appeared. - -“Mr. Fink-Nottle to see you, sir,” he announced. - - - - --5- - - -I gave him one of my looks. - -“Jeeves,” I said, “I had scarcely expected this of you. You are aware -that I was up to an advanced hour last night. You know that I have -barely had my tea. You cannot be ignorant of the effect of that hearty -voice of Aunt Dahlia’s on a man with a headache. And yet you come -bringing me Fink-Nottles. Is this a time for Fink or any other kind of -Nottle?” - -“But did you not give me to understand, sir, that you wished to see Mr. -Fink-Nottle to advise him on his affairs?” - -This, I admit, opened up a new line of thought. In the stress of my -emotions, I had clean forgotten about having taken Gussie’s interests -in hand. It altered things. One can’t give the raspberry to a client. -I mean, you didn’t find Sherlock Holmes refusing to see clients just -because he had been out late the night before at Doctor Watson’s -birthday party. I could have wished that the man had selected some -more suitable hour for approaching me, but as he appeared to be a sort -of human lark, leaving his watery nest at daybreak, I supposed I had -better give him an audience. - -“True,” I said. “All right. Bung him in.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“But before doing so, bring me one of those pick-me-ups of yours.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -And presently he returned with the vital essence. - -I have had occasion, I fancy, to speak before now of these pick-me-ups -of Jeeves’s and their effect on a fellow who is hanging to life by a -thread on the morning after. What they consist of, I couldn’t tell you. -He says some kind of sauce, the yolk of a raw egg and a dash of red -pepper, but nothing will convince me that the thing doesn’t go much -deeper than that. Be that as it may, however, the results of swallowing -one are amazing. - -For perhaps the split part of a second nothing happens. It is as though -all Nature waited breathless. Then, suddenly, it is as if the Last -Trump had sounded and Judgment Day set in with unusual severity. - -Bonfires burst out in all in parts of the frame. The abdomen becomes -heavily charged with molten lava. A great wind seems to blow through -the world, and the subject is aware of something resembling a steam -hammer striking the back of the head. During this phase, the ears ring -loudly, the eyeballs rotate and there is a tingling about the brow. - -And then, just as you are feeling that you ought to ring up your lawyer -and see that your affairs are in order before it is too late, the whole -situation seems to clarify. The wind drops. The ears cease to ring. -Birds twitter. Brass bands start playing. The sun comes up over the -horizon with a jerk. - -And a moment later all you are conscious of is a great peace. - -As I drained the glass now, new life seemed to burgeon within me. I -remember Jeeves, who, however much he may go off the rails at times in -the matter of dress clothes and in his advice to those in love, has -always had a neat turn of phrase, once speaking of someone rising on -stepping-stones of his dead self to higher things. It was that way with -me now. I felt that the Bertram Wooster who lay propped up against the -pillows had become a better, stronger, finer Bertram. - -“Thank you, Jeeves,” I said. - -“Not at all, sir.” - -“That touched the exact spot. I am now able to cope with life’s -problems.” - -“I am gratified to hear it, sir.” - -“What madness not to have had one of those before tackling Aunt Dahlia! -However, too late to worry about that now. Tell me of Gussie. How did -he make out at the fancy-dress ball?” - -“He did not arrive at the fancy-dress ball, sir.” - -I looked at him a bit austerely. - -“Jeeves,” I said, “I admit that after that pick-me-up of yours I feel -better, but don’t try me too high. Don’t stand by my sick bed talking -absolute rot. We shot Gussie into a cab and he started forth, headed -for wherever this fancy-dress ball was. He must have arrived.” - -“No, sir. As I gather from Mr. Fink-Nottle, he entered the cab -convinced in his mind that the entertainment to which he had been -invited was to be held at No. 17, Suffolk Square, whereas the actual -rendezvous was No. 71, Norfolk Terrace. These aberrations of memory are -not uncommon with those who, like Mr. Fink-Nottle, belong essentially -to what one might call the dreamer-type.” - -“One might also call it the fatheaded type.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Well?” - -“On reaching No. 17, Suffolk Square, Mr. Fink-Nottle endeavoured to -produce money to pay the fare.” - -“What stopped him?” - -“The fact that he had no money, sir. He discovered that he had left -it, together with his ticket of invitation, on the mantelpiece of his -bedchamber in the house of his uncle, where he was residing. Bidding -the cabman to wait, accordingly, he rang the door-bell, and when the -butler appeared, requested him to pay the cab, adding that it was all -right, as he was one of the guests invited to the dance. The butler -then disclaimed all knowledge of a dance on the premises.” - -“And declined to unbelt?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Upon which----” - -“Mr. Fink-Nottle directed the cabman to drive him back to his uncle’s -residence.” - -“Well, why wasn’t that the happy ending? All he had to do was go in, -collect cash and ticket, and there he would have been, on velvet.” - -“I should have mentioned, sir, that Mr. Fink-Nottle had also left his -latchkey on the mantelpiece of his bedchamber.” - -“He could have rung the bell.” - -“He did ring the bell, sir, for some fifteen minutes. At the -expiration of that period he recalled that he had given permission to -the caretaker--the house was officially closed and all the staff on -holiday--to visit his sailor son at Portsmouth.” - -“Golly, Jeeves!” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“These dreamer types do live, don’t they?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“What happened then?” - -“Mr. Fink-Nottle appears to have realized at this point that his -position as regards the cabman had become equivocal. The figures on -the clock had already reached a substantial sum, and he was not in a -position to meet his obligations.” - -“He could have explained.” - -“You cannot explain to cabmen, sir. On endeavouring to do so, he found -the fellow sceptical of his bona fides.” - -“I should have legged it.” - -“That is the policy which appears to have commended itself to Mr. -Fink-Nottle. He darted rapidly away, and the cabman, endeavouring to -detain him, snatched at his overcoat. Mr. Fink-Nottle contrived to -extricate himself from the coat, and it would seem that his appearance -in the masquerade costume beneath it came as something of a shock to -the cabman. Mr. Fink-Nottle informs me that he heard a species of -whistling gasp, and, looking round, observed the man crouching against -the railings with his hands over his face. Mr. Fink-Nottle thinks -he was praying. No doubt an uneducated, superstitious fellow, sir. -Possibly a drinker.” - -“Well, if he hadn’t been one before, I’ll bet he started being one -shortly afterwards. I expect he could scarcely wait for the pubs to -open.” - -“Very possibly, in the circumstances he might have found a restorative -agreeable, sir.” - -“And so, in the circumstances, might Gussie too, I should think. What -on earth did he do after that? London late at night--or even in the -daytime, for that matter--is no place for a man in scarlet tights.” - -“No, sir.” - -“He invites comment.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“I can see the poor old bird ducking down side-streets, skulking in -alley-ways, diving into dust-bins.” - -“I gathered from Mr. Fink-Nottle’s remarks, sir, that something very -much on those lines was what occurred. Eventually, after a trying -night, he found his way to Mr. Sipperley’s residence, where he was able -to secure lodging and a change of costume in the morning.” - -I nestled against the pillows, the brow a bit drawn. It is all very -well to try to do old school friends a spot of good, but I could not -but feel that in espousing the cause of a lunkhead capable of mucking -things up as Gussie had done, I had taken on a contract almost too big -for human consumption. It seemed to me that what Gussie needed was not -so much the advice of a seasoned man of the world as a padded cell in -Colney Hatch and a couple of good keepers to see that he did not set -the place on fire. - -Indeed, for an instant I had half a mind to withdraw from the case and -hand it back to Jeeves. But the pride of the Woosters restrained me. -When we Woosters put our hands to the plough, we do not readily sheathe -the sword. Besides, after that business of the mess-jacket, anything -resembling weakness would have been fatal. - -“I suppose you realize, Jeeves,” I said, for though one dislikes to rub -it in, these things have to be pointed out, “that all this was your -fault?” - -“Sir?” - -“It’s no good saying ‘Sir?’ You know it was. If you had not insisted -on his going to that dance--a mad project, as I spotted from the -first--this would not have happened.” - -“Yes, sir, but I confess I did not anticipate----” - -“Always anticipate everything, Jeeves,” I said, a little sternly. “It -is the only way. Even if you had allowed him to wear a Pierrot costume, -things would not have panned out as they did. A Pierrot costume has -pockets. However,” I went on more kindly, “we need not go into that -now. If all this has shown you what comes of going about the place in -scarlet tights, that is something gained. Gussie waits without, you -say?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Then shoot him in, and I will see what I can do for him.” - - - - --6- - - -Gussie, on arrival, proved to be still showing traces of his grim -experience. The face was pale, the eyes gooseberry-like, the ears -drooping, and the whole aspect that of a man who has passed through the -furnace and been caught in the machinery. I hitched myself up a bit -higher on the pillows and gazed at him narrowly. It was a moment, I -could see, when first aid was required, and I prepared to get down to -cases. - -“Well, Gussie.” - -“Hullo, Bertie.” - -“What ho.” - -“What ho.” - -These civilities concluded, I felt that the moment had come to touch -delicately on the past. - -“I hear you’ve been through it a bit.” - -“Yes.” - -“Thanks to Jeeves.” - -“It wasn’t Jeeves’s fault.” - -“Entirely Jeeves’s fault.” - -“I don’t see that. I forgot my money and latchkey----” - -“And now you’d better forget Jeeves. For you will be interested to -hear, Gussie,” I said, deeming it best to put him in touch with the -position of affairs right away, “that he is no longer handling your -little problem.” - -This seemed to slip it across him properly. The jaws fell, the ears -drooped more limply. He had been looking like a dead fish. He now -looked like a deader fish, one of last year’s, cast up on some lonely -beach and left there at the mercy of the wind and tides. - -“What!” - -“Yes.” - -“You don’t mean that Jeeves isn’t going to----” - -“No.” - -“But, dash it----” - -I was kind, but firm. - -“You will be much better off without him. Surely your terrible -experiences of that awful night have told you that Jeeves needs a rest. -The keenest of thinkers strikes a bad patch occasionally. That is what -has happened to Jeeves. I have seen it coming on for some time. He has -lost his form. He wants his plugs decarbonized. No doubt this is a -shock to you. I suppose you came here this morning to seek his advice?” - -“Of course I did.” - -“On what point?” - -“Madeline Bassett has gone to stay with these people in the country, -and I want to know what he thinks I ought to do.” - -“Well, as I say, Jeeves is off the case.” - -“But, Bertie, dash it----” - -“Jeeves,” I said with a certain asperity, “is no longer on the case. I -am now in sole charge.” - -“But what on earth can you do?” - -I curbed my resentment. We Woosters are fair-minded. We can make -allowances for men who have been parading London all night in scarlet -tights. - -“That,” I said quietly, “we shall see. Sit down and let us confer. I am -bound to say the thing seems quite simple to me. You say this girl has -gone to visit friends in the country. It would appear obvious that you -must go there too, and flock round her like a poultice. Elementary.” - -“But I can’t plant myself on a lot of perfect strangers.” - -“Don’t you know these people?” - -“Of course I don’t. I don’t know anybody.” - -I pursed the lips. This did seem to complicate matters somewhat. - -“All that I know is that their name is Travers, and it’s a place called -Brinkley Court down in Worcestershire.” - -I unpursed my lips. - -“Gussie,” I said, smiling paternally, “it was a lucky day for you -when Bertram Wooster interested himself in your affairs. As I foresaw -from the start, I can fix everything. This afternoon you shall go to -Brinkley Court, an honoured guest.” - -He quivered like a _mousse_. I suppose it must always be rather a -thrilling experience for the novice to watch me taking hold. - -“But, Bertie, you don’t mean you know these Traverses?” - -“They are my Aunt Dahlia.” - -“My gosh!” - -“You see now,” I pointed out, “how lucky you were to get me behind you. -You go to Jeeves, and what does he do? He dresses you up in scarlet -tights and one of the foulest false beards of my experience, and sends -you off to fancy-dress balls. Result, agony of spirit and no progress. -I then take over and put you on the right lines. Could Jeeves have got -you into Brinkley Court? Not a chance. Aunt Dahlia isn’t his aunt. I -merely mention these things.” - -“By Jove, Bertie, I don’t know how to thank you.” - -“My dear chap!” - -“But, I say.” - -“Now what?” - -“What do I do when I get there?” - -“If you knew Brinkley Court, you would not ask that question. In those -romantic surroundings you can’t miss. Great lovers through the ages -have fixed up the preliminary formalities at Brinkley. The place is -simply ill with atmosphere. You will stroll with the girl in the shady -walks. You will sit with her on the shady lawns. You will row on the -lake with her. And gradually you will find yourself working up to a -point where----” - -“By Jove, I believe you’re right.” - -“Of course, I’m right. I’ve got engaged three times at Brinkley. No -business resulted, but the fact remains. And I went there without the -foggiest idea of indulging in the tender pash. I hadn’t the slightest -intention of proposing to anybody. Yet no sooner had I entered those -romantic grounds than I found myself reaching out for the nearest girl -in sight and slapping my soul down in front of her. It’s something in -the air.” - -“I see exactly what you mean. That’s just what I want to be able to -do--work up to it. And in London--curse the place--everything’s in such -a rush that you don’t get a chance.” - -“Quite. You see a girl alone for about five minutes a day, and if you -want to ask her to be your wife, you’ve got to charge into it as if you -were trying to grab the gold ring on a merry-go-round.” - -“That’s right. London rattles one. I shall be a different man -altogether in the country. What a bit of luck this Travers woman -turning out to be your aunt.” - -“I don’t know what you mean, turning out to be my aunt. She has been my -aunt all along.” - -“I mean, how extraordinary that it should be your aunt that Madeline’s -going to stay with.” - -“Not at all. She and my Cousin Angela are close friends. At Cannes she -was with us all the time.” - -“Oh, you met Madeline at Cannes, did you? By Jove, Bertie,” said the -poor lizard devoutly, “I wish I could have seen her at Cannes. How -wonderful she must have looked in beach pyjamas! Oh, Bertie----” - -“Quite,” I said, a little distantly. Even when restored by one of -Jeeves’s depth bombs, one doesn’t want this sort of thing after a -hard night. I touched the bell and, when Jeeves appeared, requested -him to bring me telegraph form and pencil. I then wrote a well-worded -communication to Aunt Dahlia, informing her that I was sending my -friend, Augustus Fink-Nottle, down to Brinkley today to enjoy her -hospitality, and handed it to Gussie. - -“Push that in at the first post office you pass,” I said. “She will -find it waiting for her on her return.” - -Gussie popped along, flapping the telegram and looking like a close-up -of Joan Crawford, and I turned to Jeeves and gave him a précis of my -operations. - -“Simple, you observe, Jeeves. Nothing elaborate.” - -“No, sir.” - -“Nothing far-fetched. Nothing strained or bizarre. Just Nature’s -remedy.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“This is the attack as it should have been delivered. What do you call -it when two people of opposite sexes are bunged together in close -association in a secluded spot, meeting each other every day and seeing -a lot of each other?” - -“Is ‘propinquity’ the word you wish, sir?” - -“It is. I stake everything on propinquity, Jeeves. Propinquity, in -my opinion, is what will do the trick. At the moment, as you are -aware, Gussie is a mere jelly when in the presence. But ask yourself -how he will feel in a week or so, after he and she have been helping -themselves to sausages out of the same dish day after day at the -breakfast sideboard. Cutting the same ham, ladling out communal kidneys -and bacon--why----” - -I broke off abruptly. I had had one of my ideas. - -“Golly, Jeeves!” - -“Sir?” - -“Here’s an instance of how you have to think of everything. You heard -me mention sausages, kidneys and bacon and ham.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Well, there must be nothing of that. Fatal. The wrong note entirely. -Give me that telegraph form and pencil. I must warn Gussie without -delay. What he’s got to do is to create in this girl’s mind the -impression that he is pining away for love of her. This cannot be done -by wolfing sausages.” - -“No, sir.” - -“Very well, then.” - -And, taking form and _p._, I drafted the following: - - _Fink-Nottle - Brinkley Court, - Market Snodsbury - Worcestershire - Lay off the sausages. Avoid the ham. - Bertie._ - -“Send that off, Jeeves, instanter.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -I sank back on the pillows. - -“Well, Jeeves,” I said, “you see how I am taking hold. You notice the -grip I am getting on this case. No doubt you realize now that it would -pay you to study my methods.” - -“No doubt, sir.” - -“And even now you aren’t on to the full depths of the extraordinary -sagacity I’ve shown. Do you know what brought Aunt Dahlia up here this -morning? She came to tell me I’d got to distribute the prizes at some -beastly seminary she’s a governor of down at Market Snodsbury.” - -“Indeed, sir? I fear you will scarcely find that a congenial task.” - -“Ah, but I’m not going to do it. I’m going to shove it off on to -Gussie.” - -“Sir?” - -“I propose, Jeeves, to wire to Aunt Dahlia saying that I can’t get -down, and suggesting that she unleashes him on these young Borstal -inmates of hers in my stead.” - -“But if Mr. Fink-Nottle should decline, sir?” - -“Decline? Can you see him declining? Just conjure up the picture in -your mind, Jeeves. Scene, the drawing-room at Brinkley; Gussie wedged -into a corner, with Aunt Dahlia standing over him making hunting -noises. I put it to you, Jeeves, can you see him declining?” - -“Not readily, sir. I agree. Mrs. Travers is a forceful personality.” - -“He won’t have a hope of declining. His only way out would be to slide -off. And he can’t slide off, because he wants to be with Miss Bassett. -No, Gussie will have to toe the line, and I shall be saved from a job -at which I confess the soul shuddered. Getting up on a platform and -delivering a short, manly speech to a lot of foul school-kids! Golly, -Jeeves. I’ve been through that sort of thing once, what? You remember -that time at the girls’ school?” - -“Very vividly, sir.” - -“What an ass I made of myself!” - -“Certainly I have seen you to better advantage, sir.” - -“I think you might bring me just one more of those dynamite specials of -yours, Jeeves. This narrow squeak has made me come over all faint.” - -I suppose it must have taken Aunt Dahlia three hours or so to get -back to Brinkley, because it wasn’t till well after lunch that her -telegram arrived. It read like a telegram that had been dispatched in a -white-hot surge of emotion some two minutes after she had read mine. - -As follows: - - _Am taking legal advice to ascertain whether strangling an idiot - nephew counts as murder. If it doesn’t look out for yourself. - Consider your conduct frozen limit. What do you mean by planting - your loathsome friends on me like this? Do you think Brinkley Court - is a leper colony or what is it? Who is this Spink-Bottle? Love. - Travers._ - -I had expected some such initial reaction. I replied in temperate vein: - -_Not Bottle. Nottle. Regards. Bertie._ - -Almost immediately after she had dispatched the above heart cry, Gussie -must have arrived, for it wasn’t twenty minutes later when I received -the following: - - _Cipher telegram signed by you has reached me here. Runs “Lay off - the sausages. Avoid the ham.” Wire key immediately. Fink-Nottle._ - -I replied: - - _Also kidneys. Cheerio. Bertie._ - -I had staked all on Gussie making a favourable impression on his -hostess, basing my confidence on the fact that he was one of those -timid, obsequious, teacup-passing, thin-bread-and-butter-offering -yes-men whom women of my Aunt Dahlia’s type nearly always like at -first sight. That I had not overrated my acumen was proved by her next -in order, which, I was pleased to note, assayed a markedly larger -percentage of the milk of human kindness. - -As follows: - - _Well, this friend of yours has got here, and I must say that for - a friend of yours he seems less sub-human than I had expected. A - bit of a pop-eyed bleater, but on the whole clean and civil, and - certainly most informative about newts. Am considering arranging - series of lectures for him in neighbourhood. All the same I like - your nerve using my house as a summer-hotel resort and shall have - much to say to you on subject when you come down. Expect you - thirtieth. Bring spats. Love. Travers._ - -To this I riposted: - - _On consulting engagement book find impossible come Brinkley Court. - Deeply regret. Toodle-oo. Bertie._ - -Hers in reply stuck a sinister note: - - _Oh, so it’s like that, is it? You and your engagement book, - indeed. Deeply regret my foot. Let me tell you, my lad, that you - will regret it a jolly sight more deeply if you don’t come down. - If you imagine for one moment that you are going to get out of - distributing those prizes, you are very much mistaken. Deeply - regret Brinkley Court hundred miles from London, as unable hit you - with a brick. Love. Travers._ - -I then put my fortune to the test, to win or lose it all. It was not a -moment for petty economies. I let myself go regardless of expense: - - _No, but dash it, listen. Honestly, you don’t want me. Get - Fink-Nottle distribute prizes. A born distributor, who will do you - credit. Confidently anticipate Augustus Fink-Nottle as Master of - Revels on thirty-first inst. would make genuine sensation. Do not - miss this great chance, which may never occur again. Tinkerty-tonk. - Bertie._ - -There was an hour of breathless suspense, and then the joyful tidings -arrived: - - _Well, all right. Something in what you say, I suppose. Consider - you treacherous worm and contemptible, spineless cowardly custard, - but have booked Spink-Bottle. Stay where you are, then, and I hope - you get run over by an omnibus. Love. Travers._ - -The relief, as you may well imagine, was stupendous. A great weight -seemed to have rolled off my mind. It was as if somebody had been -pouring Jeeves’s pick-me-ups into me through a funnel. I sang as I -dressed for dinner that night. At the Drones I was so gay and cheery -that there were several complaints. And when I got home and turned into -the old bed, I fell asleep like a little child within five minutes of -inserting the person between the sheets. It seemed to me that the whole -distressing affair might now be considered definitely closed. - -Conceive my astonishment, therefore, when waking on the morrow and -sitting up to dig into the morning tea-cup, I beheld on the tray -another telegram. - -My heart sank. Could Aunt Dahlia have slept on it and changed her mind? -Could Gussie, unable to face the ordeal confronting him, have legged -it during the night down a water-pipe? With these speculations racing -through the bean, I tore open the envelope And as I noted contents I -uttered a startled yip. - -“Sir?” said Jeeves, pausing at the door. - -I read the thing again. Yes, I had got the gist all right. No, I had -not been deceived in the substance. - -“Jeeves,” I said, “do you know what?” - -“No, sir.” - -“You know my cousin Angela?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“You know young Tuppy Glossop?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“They’ve broken off their engagement.” - -“I am sorry to hear that, sir.” - -“I have here a communication from Aunt Dahlia, specifically stating -this. I wonder what the row was about.” - -“I could not say, sir.” - -“Of course you couldn’t. Don’t be an ass, Jeeves.” - -“No, sir.” - -I brooded. I was deeply moved. - -“Well, this means that we shall have to go down to Brinkley today. Aunt -Dahlia is obviously all of a twitter, and my place is by her side. -You had better pack this morning, and catch that 12.45 train with the -luggage. I have a lunch engagement, so will follow in the car.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -I brooded some more. - -“I must say this has come as a great shock to me, Jeeves.” - -“No doubt, sir.” - -“A very great shock. Angela and Tuppy.... Tut, tut! Why, they seemed -like the paper on the wall. Life is full of sadness, Jeeves.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Still, there it is.” - -“Undoubtedly, sir.” - -“Right ho, then. Switch on the bath.” - -“Very good, sir.” - - - - --7- - - -I meditated pretty freely as I drove down to Brinkley in the old -two-seater that afternoon. The news of this rift or rupture of Angela’s -and Tuppy’s had disturbed me greatly. - -The projected match, you see, was one on which I had always looked -with kindly approval. Too often, when a chap of your acquaintance is -planning to marry a girl you know, you find yourself knitting the brow -a bit and chewing the lower lip dubiously, feeling that he or she, or -both, should be warned while there is yet time. - -But I have never felt anything of this nature about Tuppy and Angela. -Tuppy, when not making an ass of himself, is a soundish sort of egg. -So is Angela a soundish sort of egg. And, as far as being in love was -concerned, it had always seemed to me that you wouldn’t have been far -out in describing them as two hearts that beat as one. - -True, they had had their little tiffs, notably on the occasion when -Tuppy--with what he said was fearless honesty and I considered thorough -goofiness--had told Angela that her new hat made her look like a -Pekingese. But in every romance you have to budget for the occasional -dust-up, and after that incident I had supposed that he had learned his -lesson and that from then on life would be one grand, sweet song. - -And now this wholly unforeseen severing of diplomatic relations had -popped up through a trap. - -I gave the thing the cream of the Wooster brain all the way down, -but it continued to beat me what could have caused the outbreak of -hostilities, and I bunged my foot sedulously on the accelerator in -order to get to Aunt Dahlia with the greatest possible speed and learn -the inside history straight from the horse’s mouth. And what with -all six cylinders hitting nicely, I made good time and found myself -closeted with the relative shortly before the hour of the evening -cocktail. - -She seemed glad to see me. In fact, she actually said she was glad to -see me--a statement no other aunt on the list would have committed -herself to, the customary reaction of these near and dear ones to the -spectacle of Bertram arriving for a visit being a sort of sick horror. - -“Decent of you to rally round, Bertie,” she said. - -“My place was by your side, Aunt Dahlia,” I responded. - -I could see at a g. that the unfortunate affair had got in amongst her -in no uncertain manner. Her usually cheerful map was clouded, and the -genial smile conspic. by its a. I pressed her hand sympathetically, to -indicate that my heart bled for her. - -“Bad show this, my dear old flesh and blood,” I said. “I’m afraid -you’ve been having a sticky time. You must be worried.” - -She snorted emotionally. She looked like an aunt who has just bitten -into a bad oyster. - -“Worried is right. I haven’t had a peaceful moment since I got back -from Cannes. Ever since I put my foot across this blasted threshold,” -said Aunt Dahlia, returning for the nonce to the hearty _argot_ of the -hunting field, “everything’s been at sixes and sevens. First there was -that mix-up about the prize-giving.” - -She paused at this point and gave me a look. “I had been meaning to -speak freely to you about your behaviour in that matter, Bertie,” she -said. “I had some good things all stored up. But, as you’ve rallied -round like this, I suppose I shall have to let you off. And, anyway, it -is probably all for the best that you evaded your obligations in that -sickeningly craven way. I have an idea that this Spink-Bottle of yours -is going to be good. If only he can keep off newts.” - -“Has he been talking about newts?” - -“He has. Fixing me with a glittering eye, like the Ancient Mariner. But -if that was the worst I had to bear, I wouldn’t mind. What I’m worrying -about is what Tom says when he starts talking.” - -“Uncle Tom?” - -“I wish there was something else you could call him except ‘Uncle -Tom’,” said Aunt Dahlia a little testily. “Every time you do it, I -expect to see him turn black and start playing the banjo. Yes, Uncle -Tom, if you must have it. I shall have to tell him soon about losing -all that money at baccarat, and, when I do, he will go up like a -rocket.” - -“Still, no doubt Time, the great healer----” - -“Time, the great healer, be blowed. I’ve got to get a cheque for five -hundred pounds out of him for _Milady’s Boudoir_ by August the third at -the latest.” - -I was concerned. Apart from a nephew’s natural interest in an aunt’s -refined weekly paper, I had always had a soft spot in my heart for -_Milady’s Boudoir_ ever since I contributed that article to it on What -the Well-Dressed Man is Wearing. Sentimental, possibly, but we old -journalists do have these feelings. - -“Is the _Boudoir_ on the rocks?” - -“It will be if Tom doesn’t cough up. It needs help till it has turned -the corner.” - -“But wasn’t it turning the corner two years ago?” - -“It was. And it’s still at it. Till you’ve run a weekly paper for -women, you don’t know what corners are.” - -“And you think the chances of getting into uncle--into my uncle by -marriage’s ribs are slight?” - -“I’ll tell you, Bertie. Up till now, when these subsidies were -required, I have always been able to come to Tom in the gay, confident -spirit of an only child touching an indulgent father for chocolate -cream. But he’s just had a demand from the income-tax people for an -additional fifty-eight pounds, one and threepence, and all he’s been -talking about since I got back has been ruin and the sinister trend of -socialistic legislation and what will become of us all.” - -I could readily believe it. This Tom has a peculiarity I’ve noticed in -other very oofy men. Nick him for the paltriest sum, and he lets out -a squawk you can hear at Land’s End. He has the stuff in gobs, but he -hates giving up. - -“If it wasn’t for Anatole’s cooking, I doubt if he would bother to -carry on. Thank God for Anatole, I say.” - -I bowed my head reverently. - -“Good old Anatole,” I said. - -“Amen,” said Aunt Dahlia. - -Then the look of holy ecstasy, which is always the result of letting -the mind dwell, however briefly, on Anatole’s cooking, died out of her -face. - -“But don’t let me wander from the subject,” she resumed. “I was telling -you of the way hell’s foundations have been quivering since I got home. -First the prize-giving, then Tom, and now, on top of everything else, -this infernal quarrel between Angela and young Glossop.” - -I nodded gravely. “I was frightfully sorry to hear of that. Terrible -shock. What was the row about?” - -“Sharks.” - -“Eh?” - -“Sharks. Or, rather, one individual shark. The brute that went for the -poor child when she was aquaplaning at Cannes. You remember Angela’s -shark?” - -Certainly I remembered Angela’s shark. A man of sensibility does not -forget about a cousin nearly being chewed by monsters of the deep. The -episode was still green in my memory. - -In a nutshell, what had occurred was this: You know how you aquaplane. -A motor-boat nips on ahead, trailing a rope. You stand on a board, -holding the rope, and the boat tows you along. And every now and then -you lose your grip on the rope and plunge into the sea and have to swim -to your board again. - -A silly process it has always seemed to me, though many find it -diverting. - -Well, on the occasion referred to, Angela had just regained her board -after taking a toss, when a great beastly shark came along and cannoned -into it, flinging her into the salty once more. It took her quite a bit -of time to get on again and make the motor-boat chap realize what was -up and haul her to safety, and during that interval you can readily -picture her embarrassment. - -According to Angela, the finny denizen kept snapping at her ankles -virtually without cessation, so that by the time help arrived, she was -feeling more like a salted almond at a public dinner than anything -human. Very shaken the poor child had been, I recall, and had talked of -nothing else for weeks. - -“I remember the whole incident vividly,” I said. “But how did that -start the trouble?” - -“She was telling him the story last night.” - -“Well?” - -“Her eyes shining and her little hands clasped in girlish excitement.” - -“No doubt.” - -“And instead of giving her the understanding and sympathy to which -she was entitled, what do you think this blasted Glossop did? He sat -listening like a lump of dough, as if she had been talking about the -weather, and when she had finished, he took his cigarette holder out of -his mouth and said, ‘I expect it was only a floating log’!” - -“He didn’t!” - -“He did. And when Angela described how the thing had jumped and snapped -at her, he took his cigarette holder out of his mouth again, and said, -‘Ah! Probably a flatfish. Quite harmless. No doubt it was just trying -to play.’ Well, I mean! What would you have done if you had been -Angela? She has pride, sensibility, all the natural feelings of a good -woman. She told him he was an ass and a fool and an idiot, and didn’t -know what he was talking about.” - -I must say I saw the girl’s viewpoint. It’s only about once in a -lifetime that anything sensational ever happens to one, and when it -does, you don’t want people taking all the colour out of it. I remember -at school having to read that stuff where that chap, Othello, tells the -girl what a hell of a time he’d been having among the cannibals and -what not. Well, imagine his feelings if, after he had described some -particularly sticky passage with a cannibal chief and was waiting for -the awestruck “Oh-h! Not really?”, she had said that the whole thing -had no doubt been greatly exaggerated and that the man had probably -really been a prominent local vegetarian. - -Yes, I saw Angela’s point of view. - -“But don’t tell me that when he saw how shirty she was about it, the -chump didn’t back down?” - -“He didn’t. He argued. And one thing led to another until, by easy -stages, they had arrived at the point where she was saying that she -didn’t know if he was aware of it, but if he didn’t knock off starchy -foods and do exercises every morning, he would be getting as fat as -a pig, and he was talking about this modern habit of girls putting -make-up on their faces, of which he had always disapproved. This -continued for a while, and then there was a loud pop and the air was -full of mangled fragments of their engagement. I’m distracted about it. -Thank goodness you’ve come, Bertie.” - -“Nothing could have kept me away,” I replied, touched. “I felt you -needed me.” - -“Yes.” - -“Quite.” - -“Or, rather,” she said, “not you, of course, but Jeeves. The minute -all this happened, I thought of him. The situation obviously cries out -for Jeeves. If ever in the whole history of human affairs there was a -moment when that lofty brain was required about the home, this is it.” - -I think, if I had been standing up, I would have staggered. In fact, -I’m pretty sure I would. But it isn’t so dashed easy to stagger when -you’re sitting in an arm-chair. Only my face, therefore, showed how -deeply I had been stung by these words. - -Until she spoke them, I had been all sweetness and light--the -sympathetic nephew prepared to strain every nerve to do his bit. I now -froze, and the face became hard and set. - -“Jeeves!” I said, between clenched teeth. - -“Oom beroofen,” said Aunt Dahlia. - -I saw that she had got the wrong angle. - -“I was not sneezing. I was saying ‘Jeeves!’” - -“And well you may. What a man! I’m going to put the whole thing up to -him. There’s nobody like Jeeves.” - -My frigidity became more marked. - -“I venture to take issue with you, Aunt Dahlia.” - -“You take what?” - -“Issue.” - -“You do, do you?” - -“I emphatically do. Jeeves is hopeless.” - -“What?” - -“Quite hopeless. He has lost his grip completely. Only a couple of days -ago I was compelled to take him off a case because his handling of it -was so footling. And, anyway, I resent this assumption, if assumption -is the word I want, that Jeeves is the only fellow with brain. I object -to the way everybody puts things up to him without consulting me and -letting me have a stab at them first.” - -She seemed about to speak, but I checked her with a gesture. - -“It is true that in the past I have sometimes seen fit to seek Jeeves’s -advice. It is possible that in the future I may seek it again. But I -claim the right to have a pop at these problems, as they arise, in -person, without having everybody behave as if Jeeves was the only -onion in the hash. I sometimes feel that Jeeves, though admittedly not -unsuccessful in the past, has been lucky rather than gifted.” - -“Have you and Jeeves had a row?” - -“Nothing of the kind.” - -“You seem to have it in for him.” - -“Not at all.” - -And yet I must admit that there was a modicum of truth in what she -said. I had been feeling pretty austere about the man all day, and I’ll -tell you why. - -You remember that he caught that 12.45 train with the luggage, while -I remained on in order to keep a luncheon engagement. Well, just -before I started out to the tryst, I was pottering about the flat, and -suddenly--I don’t know what put the suspicion into my head, possibly -the fellow’s manner had been furtive--something seemed to whisper to me -to go and have a look in the wardrobe. - -And it was as I had suspected. There was the mess-jacket still on its -hanger. The hound hadn’t packed it. - -Well, as anybody at the Drones will tell you, Bertram Wooster is a -pretty hard chap to outgeneral. I shoved the thing in a brown-paper -parcel and put it in the back of the car, and it was on a chair in the -hall now. But that didn’t alter the fact that Jeeves had attempted to -do the dirty on me, and I suppose a certain what-d’you-call-it had -crept into my manner during the above remarks. - -“There has been no breach,” I said. “You might describe it as a passing -coolness, but no more. We did not happen to see eye to eye with regard -to my white mess-jacket with the brass buttons and I was compelled to -assert my personality. But----” - -“Well, it doesn’t matter, anyway. The thing that matters is that you -are talking piffle, you poor fish. Jeeves lost his grip? Absurd. Why, -I saw him for a moment when he arrived, and his eyes were absolutely -glittering with intelligence. I said to myself ‘Trust Jeeves,’ and I -intend to.” - -“You would be far better advised to let me see what I can accomplish, -Aunt Dahlia.” - -“For heaven’s sake, don’t you start butting in. You’ll only make -matters worse.” - -“On the contrary, it may interest you to know that while driving here I -concentrated deeply on this trouble of Angela’s and was successful in -formulating a plan, based on the psychology of the individual, which I -am proposing to put into effect at an early moment.” - -“Oh, my God!” - -“My knowledge of human nature tells me it will work.” - -“Bertie,” said Aunt Dahlia, and her manner struck me as febrile, “lay -off, lay off! For pity’s sake, lay off. I know these plans of yours. I -suppose you want to shove Angela into the lake and push young Glossop -in after her to save her life, or something like that.” - -“Nothing of the kind.” - -“It’s the sort of thing you would do.” - -“My scheme is far more subtle. Let me outline it for you.” - -“No, thanks.” - -“I say to myself----” - -“But not to me.” - -“Do listen for a second.” - -“I won’t.” - -“Right ho, then. I am dumb.” - -“And have been from a child.” - -I perceived that little good could result from continuing the -discussion. I waved a hand and shrugged a shoulder. - -“Very well, Aunt Dahlia,” I said, with dignity, “if you don’t want to -be in on the ground floor, that is your affair. But you are missing an -intellectual treat. And, anyway, no matter how much you may behave like -the deaf adder of Scripture which, as you are doubtless aware, the more -one piped, the less it danced, or words to that effect, I shall carry -on as planned. I am extremely fond of Angela, and I shall spare no -effort to bring the sunshine back into her heart.” - -“Bertie, you abysmal chump, I appeal to you once more. Will you please -lay off? You’ll only make things ten times as bad as they are already.” - -I remember reading in one of those historical novels once about a -chap--a buck he would have been, no doubt, or a macaroni or some -such bird as that--who, when people said the wrong thing, merely -laughed down from lazy eyelids and flicked a speck of dust from the -irreproachable Mechlin lace at his wrists. This was practically what -I did now. At least, I straightened my tie and smiled one of those -inscrutable smiles of mine. I then withdrew and went out for a saunter -in the garden. - -And the first chap I ran into was young Tuppy. His brow was furrowed, -and he was moodily bunging stones at a flowerpot. - - - - --8- - - -I think I have told you before about young Tuppy Glossop. He was the -fellow, if you remember, who, callously ignoring the fact that we had -been friends since boyhood, betted me one night at the Drones that I -could swing myself across the swimming bath by the rings--a childish -feat for one of my lissomeness--and then, having seen me well on the -way, looped back the last ring, thus rendering it necessary for me to -drop into the deep end in formal evening costume. - -To say that I had not resented this foul deed, which seemed to me -deserving of the title of the crime of the century, would be paltering -with the truth. I had resented it profoundly, chafing not a little at -the time and continuing to chafe for some weeks. - -But you know how it is with these things. The wound heals. The agony -abates. - -I am not saying, mind you, that had the opportunity presented itself -of dropping a wet sponge on Tuppy from some high spot or of putting -an eel in his bed or finding some other form of self-expression of a -like nature, I would not have embraced it eagerly; but that let me out. -I mean to say, grievously injured though I had been, it gave me no -pleasure to feel that the fellow’s bally life was being ruined by the -loss of a girl whom, despite all that had passed, I was convinced he -still loved like the dickens. - -On the contrary, I was heart and soul in favour of healing the breach -and rendering everything hotsy-totsy once more between these two young -sundered blighters. You will have gleaned that from my remarks to Aunt -Dahlia, and if you had been present at this moment and had seen the -kindly commiserating look I gave Tuppy, you would have gleaned it still -more. - -It was one of those searching, melting looks, and was accompanied by -the hearty clasp of the right hand and the gentle laying of the left on -the collar-bone. - -“Well, Tuppy, old man,” I said. “How are you, old man?” - -My commiseration deepened as I spoke the words, for there had been no -lighting up of the eye, no answering pressure of the palm, no sign -whatever, in short, of any disposition on his part to do Spring dances -at the sight of an old friend. The man seemed sandbagged. Melancholy, -as I remember Jeeves saying once about Pongo Twistleton when he was -trying to knock off smoking, had marked him for her own. Not that I was -surprised, of course. In the circs., no doubt, a certain moodiness was -only natural. - -I released the hand, ceased to knead the shoulder, and, producing the -old case, offered him a cigarette. - -He took it dully. - -“Are you here, Bertie?” he asked. - -“Yes, I’m here.” - -“Just passing through, or come to stay?” - -I thought for a moment. I might have told him that I had arrived at -Brinkley Court with the express intention of bringing Angela and -himself together once more, of knitting up the severed threads, and -so on and so forth; and for perhaps half the time required for the -lighting of a gasper I had almost decided to do so. Then, I reflected, -better, on the whole, perhaps not. To broadcast the fact that I -proposed to take him and Angela and play on them as on a couple of -stringed instruments might have been injudicious. Chaps don’t always -like being played on as on a stringed instrument. - -“It all depends,” I said. “I may remain. I may push on. My plans are -uncertain.” - -He nodded listlessly, rather in the manner of a man who did not give a -damn what I did, and stood gazing out over the sunlit garden. In build -and appearance, Tuppy somewhat resembles a bulldog, and his aspect now -was that of one of these fine animals who has just been refused a slice -of cake. It was not difficult for a man of my discernment to read what -was in his mind, and it occasioned me no surprise, therefore, when his -next words had to do with the subject marked with a cross on the agenda -paper. - -“You’ve heard of this business of mine, I suppose? Me and Angela?” - -“I have, indeed, Tuppy, old man.” - -“We’ve bust up.” - -“I know. Some little friction, I gather, _in re_ Angela’s shark.” - -“Yes. I said it must have been a flatfish.” - -“So my informant told me.” - -“Who did you hear it from?” - -“Aunt Dahlia.” - -“I suppose she cursed me properly?” - -“Oh, no.” - -“Beyond referring to you in one passage as ‘this blasted Glossop’, she -was, I thought, singularly temperate in her language for a woman who at -one time hunted regularly with the Quorn. All the same, I could see, -if you don’t mind me saying so, old man, that she felt you might have -behaved with a little more tact.” - -“Tact!” - -“And I must admit I rather agreed with her. Was it nice, Tuppy, was -it quite kind to take the bloom off Angela’s shark like that? You -must remember that Angela’s shark is very dear to her. Could you not -see what a sock on the jaw it would be for the poor child to hear it -described by the man to whom she had given her heart as a flatfish?” - -I saw that he was struggling with some powerful emotion. - -“And what about my side of the thing?” he demanded, in a voice choked -with feeling. - -“Your side?” - -“You don’t suppose,” said Tuppy, with rising vehemence, “that I -would have exposed this dashed synthetic shark for the flatfish it -undoubtedly was if there had not been causes that led up to it. What -induced me to speak as I did was the fact that Angela, the little -squirt, had just been most offensive, and I seized the opportunity to -get a bit of my own back.” - -“Offensive?” - -“Exceedingly offensive. Purely on the strength of my having let fall -some casual remark--simply by way of saying something and keeping the -conversation going--to the effect that I wondered what Anatole was -going to give us for dinner, she said that I was too material and ought -not always to be thinking of food. Material, my elbow! As a matter of -fact, I’m particularly spiritual.” - -“Quite.” - -“I don’t see any harm in wondering what Anatole was going to give us -for dinner. Do you?” - -“Of course not. A mere ordinary tribute of respect to a great artist.” - -“Exactly.” - -“All the same----” - -“Well?” - -“I was only going to say that it seems a pity that the frail craft -of love should come a stinker like this when a few manly words of -contrition----” - -He stared at me. - -“You aren’t suggesting that I should climb down?” - -“It would be the fine, big thing, old egg.” - -“I wouldn’t dream of climbing down.” - -“But, Tuppy----” - -“No. I wouldn’t do it.” - -“But you love her, don’t you?” - -This touched the spot. He quivered noticeably, and his mouth twisted. -Quite the tortured soul. - -“I’m not saying I don’t love the little blighter,” he said, obviously -moved. “I love her passionately. But that doesn’t alter the fact that I -consider that what she needs most in this world is a swift kick in the -pants.” - -A Wooster could scarcely pass this. “Tuppy, old man!” - -“It’s no good saying ‘Tuppy, old man’.” - -“Well, I do say ‘Tuppy, old man’. Your tone shocks me. One raises the -eyebrows. Where is the fine, old, chivalrous spirit of the Glossops.” - -“That’s all right about the fine, old, chivalrous spirit of the -Glossops. Where is the sweet, gentle, womanly spirit of the Angelas? -Telling a fellow he was getting a double chin!” - -“Did she do that?” - -“She did.” - -“Oh, well, girls will be girls. Forget it, Tuppy. Go to her and make it -up.” - -He shook his head. - -“No. It is too late. Remarks have been passed about my tummy which it -is impossible to overlook.” - -“But, Tummy--Tuppy, I mean--be fair. You once told her her new hat made -her look like a Pekingese.” - -“It did make her look like a Pekingese. That was not vulgar abuse. -It was sound, constructive criticism, with no motive behind it but -the kindly desire to keep her from making an exhibition of herself in -public. Wantonly to accuse a man of puffing when he goes up a flight of -stairs is something very different.” - -I began to see that the situation would require all my address and -ingenuity. If the wedding bells were ever to ring out in the little -church of Market Snodsbury, Bertram had plainly got to put in some -shrewdish work. I had gathered, during my conversation with Aunt -Dahlia, that there had been a certain amount of frank speech between -the two contracting parties, but I had not realized till now that -matters had gone so far. - -The pathos of the thing gave me the pip. Tuppy had admitted in so many -words that love still animated the Glossop bosom, and I was convinced -that, even after all that occurred, Angela had not ceased to love him. -At the moment, no doubt, she might be wishing that she could hit him -with a bottle, but deep down in her I was prepared to bet that there -still lingered all the old affection and tenderness. Only injured pride -was keeping these two apart, and I felt that if Tuppy would make the -first move, all would be well. - -I had another whack at it. - -“She’s broken-hearted about this rift, Tuppy.” - -“How do you know? Have you seen her?” - -“No, but I’ll bet she is.” - -“She doesn’t look it.” - -“Wearing the mask, no doubt. Jeeves does that when I assert my -authority.” - -“She wrinkles her nose at me as if I were a drain that had got out of -order.” - -“Merely the mask. I feel convinced she loves you still, and that a -kindly word from you is all that is required.” - -I could see that this had moved him. He plainly wavered. He did a sort -of twiddly on the turf with his foot. And, when he spoke, one spotted -the tremolo in the voice: - -“You really think that?” - -“Absolutely.” - -“H’m.” - -“If you were to go to her----” - -He shook his head. - -“I can’t do that. It would be fatal. Bing, instantly, would go my -prestige. I know girls. Grovel, and the best of them get uppish.” He -mused. “The only way to work the thing would be by tipping her off in -some indirect way that I am prepared to open negotiations. Should I -sigh a bit when we meet, do you think?” - -“She would think you were puffing.” - -“That’s true.” - -I lit another cigarette and gave my mind to the matter. And first crack -out of the box, as is so often the way with the Woosters, I got an -idea. I remembered the counsel I had given Gussie in the matter of the -sausages and ham. - -“I’ve got it, Tuppy. There is one infallible method of indicating to a -girl that you love her, and it works just as well when you’ve had a row -and want to make it up. Don’t eat any dinner tonight. You can see how -impressive that would be. She knows how devoted you are to food.” - -He started violently. - -“I am not devoted to food!” - -“No, no.” - -“I am not devoted to food at all.” - -“Quite. All I meant----” - -“This rot about me being devoted to food,” said Tuppy warmly, “has got -to stop. I am young and healthy and have a good appetite, but that’s -not the same as being devoted to food. I admire Anatole as a master of -his craft, and am always willing to consider anything he may put before -me, but when you say I am devoted to food----” - -“Quite, quite. All I meant was that if she sees you push away your -dinner untasted, she will realize that your heart is aching, and will -probably be the first to suggest blowing the all clear.” - -Tuppy was frowning thoughtfully. - -“Push my dinner away, eh?” - -“Yes.” - -“Push away a dinner cooked by Anatole?” - -“Yes.” - -“Push it away untasted?” - -“Yes.” - -“Let us get this straight. Tonight, at dinner, when the butler offers -me a _ris de veau à la financiere_, or whatever it may be, hot from -Anatole’s hands, you wish me to push it away untasted?” - -“Yes.” - -He chewed his lip. One could sense the struggle going on within. And -then suddenly a sort of glow came into his face. The old martyrs -probably used to look like that. - -“All right.” - -“You’ll do it?” - -“I will.” - -“Fine.” - -“Of course, it will be agony.” - -I pointed out the silver lining. - -“Only for the moment. You could slip down tonight, after everyone is in -bed, and raid the larder.” - -He brightened. - -“That’s right. I could, couldn’t I?” - -“I expect there would be something cold there.” - -“There is something cold there,” said Tuppy, with growing cheerfulness. -“A steak-and-kidney pie. We had it for lunch today. One of Anatole’s -ripest. The thing I admire about that man,” said Tuppy reverently, -“the thing that I admire so enormously about Anatole is that, though a -Frenchman, he does not, like so many of these _chefs_, confine himself -exclusively to French dishes, but is always willing and ready to weigh -in with some good old simple English fare such as this steak-and-kidney -pie to which I have alluded. A masterly pie, Bertie, and it wasn’t more -than half finished. It will do me nicely.” - -“And at dinner you will push, as arranged?” - -“Absolutely as arranged.” - -“Fine.” - -“It’s an excellent idea. One of Jeeves’s best. You can tell him from -me, when you see him, that I’m much obliged.” - -The cigarette fell from my fingers. It was as though somebody had -slapped Bertram Wooster across the face with a wet dish-rag. - -“You aren’t suggesting that you think this scheme I have been sketching -out is Jeeves’s?” - -“Of course it is. It’s no good trying to kid me, Bertie. You wouldn’t -have thought of a wheeze like that in a million years.” - -There was a pause. I drew myself up to my full height; then, seeing -that he wasn’t looking at me, lowered myself again. - -“Come, Glossop,” I said coldly, “we had better be going. It is time we -were dressing for dinner.” - - - - --9- - - -Tuppy’s fatheaded words were still rankling in my bosom as I went up to -my room. They continued rankling as I shed the form-fitting, and had -not ceased to rankle when, clad in the old dressing-gown, I made my way -along the corridor to the _salle de bain_. - -It is not too much to say that I was piqued to the tonsils. - -I mean to say, one does not court praise. The adulation of the -multitude means very little to one. But, all the same, when one has -taken the trouble to whack out a highly juicy scheme to benefit an -in-the-soup friend in his hour of travail, it’s pretty foul to find -him giving the credit to one’s personal attendant, particularly if -that personal attendant is a man who goes about the place not packing -mess-jackets. - -But after I had been splashing about in the porcelain for a bit, -composure began to return. I have always found that in moments of -heart-bowed-downness there is nothing that calms the bruised spirit -like a good go at the soap and water. I don’t say I actually sang in -the tub, but there were times when it was a mere spin of the coin -whether I would do so or not. - -The spiritual anguish induced by that tactless speech had become -noticeably lessened. - -The discovery of a toy duck in the soap dish, presumably the property -of some former juvenile visitor, contributed not a little to this new -and happier frame of mind. What with one thing and another, I hadn’t -played with toy ducks in my bath for years, and I found the novel -experience most invigorating. For the benefit of those interested, I -may mention that if you shove the thing under the surface with the -sponge and then let it go, it shoots out of the water in a manner -calculated to divert the most careworn. Ten minutes of this and I was -enabled to return to the bedchamber much more the old merry Bertram. - -Jeeves was there, laying out the dinner disguise. He greeted the young -master with his customary suavity. - -“Good evening, sir.” - -I responded in the same affable key. - -“Good evening, Jeeves.” - -“I trust you had a pleasant drive, sir.” - -“Very pleasant, thank you, Jeeves. Hand me a sock or two, will you?” - -He did so, and I commenced to don. - -“Well, Jeeves,” I said, reaching for the underlinen, “here we are again -at Brinkley Court in the county of Worcestershire.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“A nice mess things seem to have gone and got themselves into in this -rustic joint.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“The rift between Tuppy Glossop and my cousin Angela would appear to be -serious.” - -“Yes, sir. Opinion in the servants’ hall is inclined to take a grave -view of the situation.” - -“And the thought that springs to your mind, no doubt, is that I shall -have my work cut out to fix things up?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“You are wrong, Jeeves. I have the thing well in hand.” - -“You surprise me, sir.” - -“I thought I should. Yes, Jeeves, I pondered on the matter most of -the way down here, and with the happiest results. I have just been in -conference with Mr. Glossop, and everything is taped out.” - -“Indeed, sir? Might I inquire----” - -“You know my methods, Jeeves. Apply them. Have you,” I asked, slipping -into the shirt and starting to adjust the cravat, “been gnawing on the -thing at all?” - -“Oh, yes, sir. I have always been much attached to Miss Angela, and I -felt that it would afford me great pleasure were I to be able to be of -service to her.” - -“A laudable sentiment. But I suppose you drew blank?” - -“No, sir. I was rewarded with an idea.” - -“What was it?” - -“It occurred to me that a reconciliation might be effected between Mr. -Glossop and Miss Angela by appealing to that instinct which prompts -gentlemen in time of peril to hasten to the rescue of----” - -I had to let go of the cravat in order to raise a hand. I was shocked. - -“Don’t tell me you were contemplating descending to that old -he-saved-her-from-drowning gag? I am surprised, Jeeves. Surprised -and pained. When I was discussing the matter with Aunt Dahlia on my -arrival, she said in a sniffy sort of way that she supposed I was going -to shove my Cousin Angela into the lake and push Tuppy in to haul her -out, and I let her see pretty clearly that I considered the suggestion -an insult to my intelligence. And now, if your words have the meaning I -read into them, you are mooting precisely the same drivelling scheme. -Really, Jeeves!” - -“No, sir. Not that. But the thought did cross my mind, as I walked -in the grounds and passed the building where the fire-bell hangs, -that a sudden alarm of fire in the night might result in Mr. Glossop -endeavouring to assist Miss Angela to safety.” - -I shivered. - -“Rotten, Jeeves.” - -“Well, sir----” - -“No good. Not a bit like it.” - -“I fancy, sir----” - -“No, Jeeves. No more. Enough has been said. Let us drop the subj.” - -I finished tying the tie in silence. My emotions were too deep for -speech. I knew, of course, that this man had for the time being lost -his grip, but I had never suspected that he had gone absolutely to -pieces like this. Remembering some of the swift ones he had pulled -in the past, I shrank with horror from the spectacle of his present -ineptitude. Or is it ineptness? I mean this frightful disposition of -his to stick straws in his hair and talk like a perfect ass. It was -the old, old story, I supposed. A man’s brain whizzes along for years -exceeding the speed limit, and something suddenly goes wrong with the -steering-gear and it skids and comes a smeller in the ditch. - -“A bit elaborate,” I said, trying to put the thing in as kindly a light -as possible. “Your old failing. You can see that it’s a bit elaborate?” - -“Possibly the plan I suggested might be considered open to that -criticism, sir, but _faute de mieux_----” - -“I don’t get you, Jeeves.” - -“A French expression, sir, signifying ‘for want of anything better’.” - -A moment before, I had been feeling for this wreck of a once fine -thinker nothing but a gentle pity. These words jarred the Wooster -pride, inducing asperity. - -“I understand perfectly well what _faute de mieux_ means, Jeeves. I did -not recently spend two months among our Gallic neighbours for nothing. -Besides, I remember that one from school. What caused my bewilderment -was that you should be employing the expression, well knowing that -there is no bally _faute de mieux_ about it at all. Where do you get -that _faute-de-mieux_ stuff? Didn’t I tell you I had everything taped -out?” - -“Yes, sir, but----” - -“What do you mean--but?” - -“Well, sir----” - -“Push on, Jeeves. I am ready, even anxious, to hear your views.” - -“Well, sir, if I may take the liberty of reminding you of it, your -plans in the past have not always been uniformly successful.” - -There was a silence--rather a throbbing one--during which I put on my -waistcoat in a marked manner. Not till I had got the buckle at the back -satisfactorily adjusted did I speak. - -“It is true, Jeeves,” I said formally, “that once or twice in the past -I may have missed the bus. This, however, I attribute purely to bad -luck.” - -“Indeed, sir?” - -“On the present occasion I shall not fail, and I’ll tell you why I -shall not fail. Because my scheme is rooted in human nature.” - -“Indeed, sir?” - -“It is simple. Not elaborate. And, furthermore, based on the psychology -of the individual.” - -“Indeed, sir?” - -“Jeeves,” I said, “don’t keep saying ‘Indeed, sir?’ No doubt nothing is -further from your mind than to convey such a suggestion, but you have -a way of stressing the ‘in’ and then coming down with a thud on the -‘deed’ which makes it virtually tantamount to ‘Oh, yeah?’ Correct this, -Jeeves.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“I tell you I have everything nicely lined up. Would you care to hear -what steps I have taken?” - -“Very much, sir.” - -“Then listen. Tonight at dinner I have recommended Tuppy to lay off the -food.” - -“Sir?” - -“Tut, Jeeves, surely you can follow the idea, even though it is -one that would never have occurred to yourself. Have you forgotten -that telegram I sent to Gussie Fink-Nottle, steering him away from -the sausages and ham? This is the same thing. Pushing the food away -untasted is a universally recognized sign of love. It cannot fail to -bring home the gravy. You must see that?” - -“Well, sir----” - -I frowned. - -“I don’t want to seem always to be criticizing your methods of -voice production, Jeeves,” I said, “but I must inform you that that -‘Well, sir’ of yours is in many respects fully as unpleasant as your -‘Indeed, sir?’ Like the latter, it seems to be tinged with a definite -scepticism. It suggests a lack of faith in my vision. The impression I -retain after hearing you shoot it at me a couple of times is that you -consider me to be talking through the back of my neck, and that only a -feudal sense of what is fitting restrains you from substituting for it -the words ‘Says you!’” - -“Oh, no, sir.” - -“Well, that’s what it sounds like. Why don’t you think this scheme will -work?” - -“I fear Miss Angela will merely attribute Mr. Glossop’s abstinence to -indigestion, sir.” - -I hadn’t thought of that, and I must confess it shook me for a moment. -Then I recovered myself. I saw what was at the bottom of all this. -Mortified by the consciousness of his own ineptness--or ineptitude--the -fellow was simply trying to hamper and obstruct. I decided to knock the -stuffing out of him without further preamble. - -“Oh?” I said. “You do, do you? Well, be that as it may, it doesn’t -alter the fact that you’ve put out the wrong coat. Be so good, Jeeves,” -I said, indicating with a gesture the gent’s ordinary dinner jacket or -_smoking_, as we call it on the Côte d’Azur, which was suspended from -the hanger on the knob of the wardrobe, “as to shove that bally black -thing in the cupboard and bring out my white mess-jacket with the brass -buttons.” - -He looked at me in a meaning manner. And when I say a meaning manner, -I mean there was a respectful but at the same time uppish glint in his -eye and a sort of muscular spasm flickered across his face which wasn’t -quite a quiet smile and yet wasn’t quite not a quiet smile. Also the -soft cough. - -“I regret to say, sir, that I inadvertently omitted to pack the garment -to which you refer.” - -The vision of that parcel in the hall seemed to rise before my eyes, -and I exchanged a merry wink with it. I may even have hummed a bar or -two. I’m not quite sure. - -“I know you did, Jeeves,” I said, laughing down from lazy eyelids and -nicking a speck of dust from the irreproachable Mechlin lace at my -wrists. “But I didn’t. You will find it on a chair in the hall in a -brown-paper parcel.” - -The information that his low manoeuvres had been rendered null and void -and that the thing was on the strength after all, must have been the -nastiest of jars, but there was no play of expression on his finely -chiselled to indicate it. There very seldom is on Jeeves’s f-c. In -moments of discomfort, as I had told Tuppy, he wears a mask, preserving -throughout the quiet stolidity of a stuffed moose. - -“You might just slide down and fetch it, will you?” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“Right ho, Jeeves.” - -And presently I was sauntering towards the drawing-room with the good -old j. nestling snugly abaft the shoulder blades. - -And Dahlia was in the drawing-room. She glanced up at my entrance. - -“Hullo, eyesore,” she said. “What do you think you’re made up as?” - -I did not get the purport. - -“The jacket, you mean?” I queried, groping. - -“I do. You look like one of the chorus of male guests at Abernethy -Towers in Act 2 of a touring musical comedy.” - -“You do not admire this jacket?” - -“I do not.” - -“You did at Cannes.” - -“Well, this isn’t Cannes.” - -“But, dash it----” - -“Oh, never mind. Let it go. If you want to give my butler a laugh, what -does it matter? What does anything matter now?” - -There was a death-where-is-thy-sting-fullness about her manner which -I found distasteful. It isn’t often that I score off Jeeves in the -devastating fashion just described, and when I do I like to see happy, -smiling faces about me. - -“Tails up, Aunt Dahlia,” I urged buoyantly. - -“Tails up be dashed,” was her sombre response. “I’ve just been talking -to Tom.” - -“Telling him?” - -“No, listening to him. I haven’t had the nerve to tell him yet.” - -“Is he still upset about that income-tax money?” - -“Upset is right. He says that Civilisation is in the melting-pot and -that all thinking men can read the writing on the wall.” - -“What wall?” - -“Old Testament, ass. Belshazzar’s feast.” - -“Oh, that, yes. I’ve often wondered how that gag was worked. With -mirrors, I expect.” - -“I wish I could use mirrors to break it to Tom about this baccarat -business.” - -I had a word of comfort to offer here. I had been turning the thing -over in my mind since our last meeting, and I thought I saw where -she had got twisted. Where she made her error, it seemed to me, was -in feeling she had got to tell Uncle Tom. To my way of thinking, the -matter was one on which it would be better to continue to exercise a -quiet reserve. - -“I don’t see why you need mention that you lost that money at baccarat.” - -“What do you suggest, then? Letting _Milady’s Boudoir_ join -Civilisation in the melting-pot. Because that is what it will -infallibly do unless I get a cheque by next week. The printers have -been showing a nasty spirit for months.” - -“You don’t follow. Listen. It’s an understood thing, I take it, that -Uncle Tom foots the _Boudoir_ bills. If the bally sheet has been -turning the corner for two years, he must have got used to forking out -by this time. Well, simply ask him for the money to pay the printers.” - -“I did. Just before I went to Cannes.” - -“Wouldn’t he give it to you?” - -“Certainly he gave it to me. He brassed up like an officer and a -gentleman. That was the money I lost at baccarat.” - -“Oh? I didn’t know that.” - -“There isn’t much you do know.” - -A nephew’s love made me overlook the slur. - -“Tut!” I said. - -“What did you say?” - -“I said ‘Tut!’” - -“Say it once again, and I’ll biff you where you stand. I’ve enough to -endure without being tutted at.” - -“Quite.” - -“Any tutting that’s required, I’ll attend to myself. And the same -applies to clicking the tongue, if you were thinking of doing that.” - -“Far from it.” - -“Good.” - -I stood awhile in thought. I was concerned to the core. My heart, if -you remember, had already bled once for Aunt Dahlia this evening. It -now bled again. I knew how deeply attached she was to this paper of -hers. Seeing it go down the drain would be for her like watching a -loved child sink for the third time in some pond or mere. - -And there was no question that, unless carefully prepared for the -touch, Uncle Tom would see a hundred _Milady’s Boudoirs_ go phut rather -than take the rap. - -Then I saw how the thing could be handled. This aunt, I perceived, must -fall into line with my other clients. Tuppy Glossop was knocking off -dinner to melt Angela. Gussie Fink-Nottle was knocking off dinner to -impress the Bassett. Aunt Dahlia must knock off dinner to soften Uncle -Tom. For the beauty of this scheme of mine was that there was no limit -to the number of entrants. Come one, come all, the more the merrier, -and satisfaction guaranteed in every case. - -“I’ve got it,” I said. “There is only one course to pursue. Eat less -meat.” - -She looked at me in a pleading sort of way. I wouldn’t swear that -her eyes were wet with unshed tears, but I rather think they were, -certainly she clasped her hands in piteous appeal. - -“Must you drivel, Bertie? Won’t you stop it just this once? Just for -tonight, to please Aunt Dahlia?” - -“I’m not drivelling.” - -“I dare say that to a man of your high standards it doesn’t come under -the head of drivel, but----” - -I saw what had happened. I hadn’t made myself quite clear. - -“It’s all right,” I said. “Have no misgivings. This is the real -Tabasco. When I said ‘Eat less meat’, what I meant was that you -must refuse your oats at dinner tonight. Just sit there, looking -blistered, and wave away each course as it comes with a weary gesture -of resignation. You see what will happen. Uncle Tom will notice your -loss of appetite, and I am prepared to bet that at the conclusion of -the meal he will come to you and say ‘Dahlia, darling’--I take it he -calls you ‘Dahlia’--‘Dahlia darling,’ he will say, ‘I noticed at dinner -tonight that you were a bit off your feed. Is anything the matter, -Dahlia, darling?’ ‘Why, yes, Tom, darling,’ you will reply. ‘It is kind -of you to ask, darling. The fact is, darling, I am terribly worried.’ -‘My darling,’ he will say----” - -Aunt Dahlia interrupted at this point to observe that these Traverses -seemed to be a pretty soppy couple of blighters, to judge by their -dialogue. She also wished to know when I was going to get to the point. - -I gave her a look. - -“‘My darling,’ he will say tenderly, ‘is there anything I can do?’ To -which your reply will be that there jolly well is--viz. reach for his -cheque-book and start writing.” - -I was watching her closely as I spoke, and was pleased to note respect -suddenly dawn in her eyes. - -“But, Bertie, this is positively bright.” - -“I told you Jeeves wasn’t the only fellow with brain.” - -“I believe it would work.” - -“It’s bound to work. I’ve recommended it to Tuppy.” - -“Young Glossop?” - -“In order to soften Angela.” - -“Splendid!” - -“And to Gussie Fink-Nottle, who wants to make a hit with the Bassett.” - -“Well, well, well! What a busy little brain it is.” - -“Always working, Aunt Dahlia, always working.” - -“You’re not the chump I took you for, Bertie.” - -“When did you ever take me for a chump?” - -“Oh, some time last summer. I forget what gave me the idea. Yes, -Bertie, this scheme is bright. I suppose, as a matter of fact, Jeeves -suggested it.” - -“Jeeves did not suggest it. I resent these implications. Jeeves had -nothing to do with it whatsoever.” - -“Well, all right, no need to get excited about it. Yes, I think it will -work. Tom’s devoted to me.” - -“Who wouldn’t be?” - -“I’ll do it.” - -And then the rest of the party trickled in, and we toddled down to -dinner. - -Conditions being as they were at Brinkley Court--I mean to say, the -place being loaded down above the Plimsoll mark with aching hearts -and standing room only as regarded tortured souls--I hadn’t expected -the evening meal to be particularly effervescent. Nor was it. Silent. -Sombre. The whole thing more than a bit like Christmas dinner on -Devil’s Island. - -I was glad when it was over. - -What with having, on top of her other troubles, to rein herself back -from the trough, Aunt Dahlia was a total loss as far as anything in the -shape of brilliant badinage was concerned. The fact that he was fifty -quid in the red and expecting Civilisation to take a toss at any moment -had caused Uncle Tom, who always looked a bit like a pterodactyl with a -secret sorrow, to take on a deeper melancholy. The Bassett was a silent -bread crumbler. Angela might have been hewn from the living rock. Tuppy -had the air of a condemned murderer refusing to make the usual hearty -breakfast before tooling off to the execution shed. - -And as for Gussie Fink-Nottle, many an experienced undertaker would -have been deceived by his appearance and started embalming him on sight. - -This was the first glimpse I had had of Gussie since we parted at -my flat, and I must say his demeanour disappointed me. I had been -expecting something a great deal more sparkling. - -At my flat, on the occasion alluded to, he had, if you recall, -practically given me a signed guarantee that all he needed to touch -him off was a rural setting. Yet in this aspect now I could detect no -indication whatsoever that he was about to round into mid-season form. -He still looked like a cat in an adage, and it did not take me long to -realise that my very first act on escaping from this morgue must be to -draw him aside and give him a pep talk. - -If ever a chap wanted the clarion note, it looked as if it was this -Fink-Nottle. - -In the general exodus of mourners, however, I lost sight of him, -and, owing to the fact that Aunt Dahlia roped me in for a game of -backgammon, it was not immediately that I was able to institute a -search. But after we had been playing for a while, the butler came in -and asked her if she would speak to Anatole, so I managed to get away. -And some ten minutes later, having failed to find scent in the house, I -started to throw out the drag-net through the grounds, and flushed him -in the rose garden. - -He was smelling a rose at the moment in a limp sort of way, but removed -the beak as I approached. - -“Well, Gussie,” I said. - -I had beamed genially upon him as I spoke, such being my customary -policy on meeting an old pal; but instead of beaming back genially, he -gave me a most unpleasant look. His attitude perplexed me. It was as -if he were not glad to see Bertram. For a moment he stood letting this -unpleasant look play upon me, as it were, and then he spoke. - -“You and your ‘Well, Gussie’!” - -He said this between clenched teeth, always an unmatey thing to do, and -I found myself more fogged than ever. - -“How do you mean--me and my ‘Well, Gussie’?” - -“I like your nerve, coming bounding about the place, saying ‘Well, -Gussie.’ That’s about all the ‘Well, Gussie’ I shall require from you, -Wooster. And it’s no good looking like that. You know what I mean. That -damned prize-giving! It was a dastardly act to crawl out as you did and -shove it off on to me. I will not mince my words. It was the act of a -hound and a stinker.” - -Now, though, as I have shown, I had devoted most of the time on the -journey down to meditating upon the case of Angela and Tuppy, I had -not neglected to give a thought or two to what I was going to say when -I encountered Gussie. I had foreseen that there might be some little -temporary unpleasantness when we met, and when a difficult interview is -in the offing Bertram Wooster likes to have his story ready. - -So now I was able to reply with a manly, disarming frankness. The -sudden introduction of the topic had given me a bit of a jolt, it is -true, for in the stress of recent happenings I had rather let that -prize-giving business slide to the back of my mind; but I had speedily -recovered and, as I say, was able to reply with a manly d.f. - -“But, my dear chap,” I said, “I took it for granted that you would -understand that that was all part of my schemes.” - -He said something about my schemes which I did not catch. - -“Absolutely. ‘Crawling out’ is entirely the wrong way to put it. You -don’t suppose I didn’t want to distribute those prizes, do you? Left to -myself, there is nothing I would find a greater treat. But I saw that -the square, generous thing to do was to step aside and let you take it -on, so I did so. I felt that your need was greater than mine. You don’t -mean to say you aren’t looking forward to it?” - -He uttered a coarse expression which I wouldn’t have thought he would -have known. It just shows that you can bury yourself in the country and -still somehow acquire a vocabulary. No doubt one picks up things from -the neighbours--the vicar, the local doctor, the man who brings the -milk, and so on. - -“But, dash it,” I said, “can’t you see what this is going to do for -you? It will send your stock up with a jump. There you will be, up on -that platform, a romantic, impressive figure, the star of the whole -proceedings, the what-d’you-call-it of all eyes. Madeline Bassett will -be all over you. She will see you in a totally new light.” - -“She will, will she?” - -“Certainly she will. Augustus Fink-Nottle, the newts’ friend, she -knows. She is acquainted with Augustus Fink-Nottle, the dogs’ -chiropodist. But Augustus Fink-Nottle, the orator--that’ll knock her -sideways, or I know nothing of the female heart. Girls go potty over a -public man. If ever anyone did anyone else a kindness, it was I when I -gave this extraordinary attractive assignment to you.” - -He seemed impressed by my eloquence. Couldn’t have helped himself, of -course. The fire faded from behind his horn-rimmed spectacles, and in -its place appeared the old fish-like goggle. - -“’Myes,” he said meditatively. “Have you ever made a speech, Bertie?” - -“Dozens of times. It’s pie. Nothing to it. Why, I once addressed a -girls’ school.” - -“You weren’t nervous?” - -“Not a bit.” - -“How did you go?” - -“They hung on my lips. I held them in the hollow of my hand.” - -“They didn’t throw eggs, or anything?” - -“Not a thing.” - -He expelled a deep breath, and for a space stood staring in silence at -a passing slug. - -“Well,” he said, at length, “it may be all right. Possibly I am letting -the thing prey on my mind too much. I may be wrong in supposing it -the fate that is worse than death. But I’ll tell you this much: the -prospect of that prize-giving on the thirty-first of this month has -been turning my existence into a nightmare. I haven’t been able to -sleep or think or eat ... By the way, that reminds me. You never -explained that cipher telegram about the sausages and ham.” - -“It wasn’t a cipher telegram. I wanted you to go light on the food, so -that she would realize you were in love.” - -He laughed hollowly. - -“I see. Well, I’ve been doing that, all right.” - -“Yes, I was noticing at dinner. Splendid.” - -“I don’t see what’s splendid about it. It’s not going to get me -anywhere. I shall never be able to ask her to marry me. I couldn’t find -nerve to do that if I lived on wafer biscuits for the rest of my life.” - -“But, dash it, Gussie. In these romantic surroundings. I should have -thought the whispering trees alone----” - -“I don’t care what you would have thought. I can’t do it.” - -“Oh, come!” - -“I can’t. She seems so aloof, so remote.” - -“She doesn’t.” - -“Yes, she does. Especially when you see her sideways. Have you seen her -sideways, Bertie? That cold, pure profile. It just takes all the heart -out of one.” - -“It doesn’t.” - -“I tell you it does. I catch sight of it, and the words freeze on my -lips.” - -He spoke with a sort of dull despair, and so manifest was his lack -of ginger and the spirit that wins to success that for an instant, -I confess, I felt a bit stymied. It seemed hopeless to go on trying -to steam up such a human jellyfish. Then I saw the way. With that -extraordinary quickness of mine, I realized exactly what must be done -if this Fink-Nottle was to be enabled to push his nose past the judges’ -box. - -“She must be softened up,” I said. - -“Be what?” - -“Softened up. Sweetened. Worked on. Preliminary spadework must be put -in. Here, Gussie, is the procedure I propose to adopt: I shall now -return to the house and lug this Bassett out for a stroll. I shall talk -to her of hearts that yearn, intimating that there is one actually -on the premises. I shall pitch it strong, sparing no effort. You, -meanwhile, will lurk on the outskirts, and in about a quarter of an -hour you will come along and carry on from there. By that time, her -emotions having been stirred, you ought to be able to do the rest on -your head. It will be like leaping on to a moving bus.” - -I remember when I was a kid at school having to learn a poem of sorts -about a fellow named Pig-something--a sculptor he would have been, no -doubt--who made a statue of a girl, and what should happen one morning -but that the bally thing suddenly came to life. A pretty nasty shock -for the chap, of course, but the point I’m working round to is that -there were a couple of lines that went, if I remember correctly: - - _She starts. She moves. She seems to feel - The stir of life along her keel._ - -And what I’m driving at is that you couldn’t get a better description -of what happened to Gussie as I spoke these heartening words. His brow -cleared, his eyes brightened, he lost that fishy look, and he gazed -at the slug, which was still on the long, long trail with something -approaching bonhomie. A marked improvement. - -“I see what you mean. You will sort of pave the way, as it were.” - -“That’s right. Spadework.” - -“It’s a terrific idea, Bertie. It will make all the difference.” - -“Quite. But don’t forget that after that it will be up to you. You will -have to haul up your slacks and give her the old oil, or my efforts -will have been in vain.” - -Something of his former Gawd-help-us-ness seemed to return to him. He -gasped a bit. - -“That’s true. What the dickens shall I say?” - -I restrained my impatience with an effort. The man had been at school -with me. - -“Dash it, there are hundreds of things you can say. Talk about the -sunset.” - -“The sunset?” - -“Certainly. Half the married men you meet began by talking about the -sunset.” - -“But what can I say about the sunset?” - -“Well, Jeeves got off a good one the other day. I met him airing the -dog in the park one evening, and he said, ‘Now fades the glimmering -landscape on the sight, sir, and all the air a solemn stillness holds.’ -You might use that.” - -“What sort of landscape?” - -“Glimmering. _G_ for ‘gastritis,’ _l_ for ‘lizard’----” - -“Oh, glimmering? Yes, that’s not bad. Glimmering landscape ... solemn -stillness.... Yes, I call that pretty good.” - -“You could then say that you have often thought that the stars are -God’s daisy chain.” - -“But I haven’t.” - -“I dare say not. But she has. Hand her that one, and I don’t see how -she can help feeling that you’re a twin soul.” - -“God’s daisy chain?” - -“God’s daisy chain. And then you go on about how twilight always makes -you sad. I know you’re going to say it doesn’t, but on this occasion it -has jolly well got to.” - -“Why?” - -“That’s just what she will ask, and you will then have got her going. -Because you will reply that it is because yours is such a lonely life. -It wouldn’t be a bad idea to give her a brief description of a typical -home evening at your Lincolnshire residence, showing how you pace the -meadows with a heavy tread.” - -“I generally sit indoors and listen to the wireless.” - -“No, you don’t. You pace the meadows with a heavy tread, wishing that -you had someone to love you. And then you speak of the day when she -came into your life.” - -“Like a fairy princess.” - -“Absolutely,” I said with approval. I hadn’t expected such a hot one -from such a quarter. “Like a fairy princess. Nice work, Gussie.” - -“And then?” - -“Well, after that it’s easy. You say you have something you want to say -to her, and then you snap into it. I don’t see how it can fail. If I -were you, I should do it in this rose garden. It is well established -that there is no sounder move than to steer the adored object into rose -gardens in the gloaming. And you had better have a couple of quick ones -first.” - -“Quick ones?” - -“Snifters.” - -“Drinks, do you mean? But I don’t drink.” - -“What?” - -“I’ve never touched a drop in my life.” - -This made me a bit dubious, I must confess. On these occasions it is -generally conceded that a moderate skinful is of the essence. - -However, if the facts were as he had stated, I supposed there was -nothing to be done about it. - -“Well, you’ll have to make out as best you can on ginger pop.” - -“I always drink orange juice.” - -“Orange juice, then. Tell me, Gussie, to settle a bet, do you really -like that muck?” - -“Very much.” - -“Then there is no more to be said. Now, let’s just have a run through, -to see that you’ve got the lay-out straight. Start off with the -glimmering landscape.” - -“Stars God’s daisy chain.” - -“Twilight makes you feel sad.” - -“Because mine lonely life.” - -“Describe life.” - -“Talk about the day I met her.” - -“Add fairy-princess gag. Say there’s something you want to say to her. -Heave a couple of sighs. Grab her hand. And give her the works. Right.” - -And confident that he had grasped the scenario and that everything -might now be expected to proceed through the proper channels, I picked -up the feet and hastened back to the house. - -It was not until I had reached the drawing-room and was enabled to -take a square look at the Bassett that I found the debonair gaiety -with which I had embarked on this affair beginning to wane a trifle. -Beholding her at close range like this, I suddenly became cognisant of -what I was in for. The thought of strolling with this rummy specimen -undeniably gave me a most unpleasant sinking feeling. I could not -but remember how often, when in her company at Cannes, I had gazed -dumbly at her, wishing that some kindly motorist in a racing car would -ease the situation by coming along and ramming her amidships. As I -have already made abundantly clear, this girl was not one of my most -congenial buddies. - -However, a Wooster’s word is his bond. Woosters may quail, but they do -not edge out. Only the keenest ear could have detected the tremor in -the voice as I asked her if she would care to come out for half an hour. - -“Lovely evening,” I said. - -“Yes, lovely, isn’t it?” - -“Lovely. Reminds me of Cannes.” - -“How lovely the evenings were there!” - -“Lovely,” I said. - -“Lovely,” said the Bassett. - -“Lovely,” I agreed. - -That completed the weather and news bulletin for the French Riviera. -Another minute, and we were out in the great open spaces, she cooing -a bit about the scenery, and self replying, “Oh, rather, quite,” and -wondering how best to approach the matter in hand. - - - - --10- - - -How different it all would have been, I could not but reflect, if -this girl had been the sort of girl one chirrups cheerily to over the -telephone and takes for spins in the old two-seater. In that case, I -would simply have said, “Listen,” and she would have said, “What?” and -I would have said, “You know Gussie Fink-Nottle,” and she would have -said, “Yes,” and I would have said, “He loves you,” and she would have -said either, “What, that mutt? Well, thank heaven for one good laugh -today,” or else, in more passionate vein, “Hot dog! Tell me more.” - -I mean to say, in either event the whole thing over and done with in -under a minute. - -But with the Bassett something less snappy and a good deal more -glutinous was obviously indicated. What with all this daylight-saving -stuff, we had hit the great open spaces at a moment when twilight had -not yet begun to cheese it in favour of the shades of night. There was -a fag-end of sunset still functioning. Stars were beginning to peep -out, bats were fooling round, the garden was full of the aroma of those -niffy white flowers which only start to put in their heavy work at the -end of the day--in short, the glimmering landscape was fading on the -sight and all the air held a solemn stillness, and it was plain that -this was having the worst effect on her. Her eyes were enlarged, and -her whole map a good deal too suggestive of the soul’s awakening for -comfort. - -Her aspect was that of a girl who was expecting something fairly fruity -from Bertram. - -In these circs., conversation inevitably flagged a bit. I am never -at my best when the situation seems to call for a certain soupiness, -and I’ve heard other members of the Drones say the same thing about -themselves. I remember Pongo Twistleton telling me that he was out in a -gondola with a girl by moonlight once, and the only time he spoke was -to tell her that old story about the chap who was so good at swimming -that they made him a traffic cop in Venice. - -Fell rather flat, he assured me, and it wasn’t much later when the girl -said she thought it was getting a little chilly and how about pushing -back to the hotel. - -So now, as I say, the talk rather hung fire. It had been all very well -for me to promise Gussie that I would cut loose to this girl about -aching hearts, but you want a cue for that sort of thing. And when, -toddling along, we reached the edge of the lake and she finally spoke, -conceive my chagrin when I discovered that what she was talking about -was stars. - -Not a bit of good to me. - -“Oh, look,” she said. She was a confirmed Oh-looker. I had noticed this -at Cannes, where she had drawn my attention in this manner on various -occasions to such diverse objects as a French actress, a Provençal -filling station, the sunset over the Estorels, Michael Arlen, a man -selling coloured spectacles, the deep velvet blue of the Mediterranean, -and the late mayor of New York in a striped one-piece bathing suit. -“Oh, look at that sweet little star up there all by itself.” - -I saw the one she meant, a little chap operating in a detached sort of -way above a spinney. - -“Yes,” I said. - -“I wonder if it feels lonely.” - -“Oh, I shouldn’t think so.” - -“A fairy must have been crying.” - -“Eh?” - -“Don’t you remember? ‘Every time a fairy sheds a tear, a wee bit star -is born in the Milky Way.’ Have you ever thought that, Mr. Wooster?” - -I never had. Most improbable, I considered, and it didn’t seem to me to -check up with her statement that the stars were God’s daisy chain. I -mean, you can’t have it both ways. - -However, I was in no mood to dissect and criticize. I saw that I had -been wrong in supposing that the stars were not germane to the issue. -Quite a decent cue they had provided, and I leaped on it Promptly: -“Talking of shedding tears----” - -But she was now on the subject of rabbits, several of which were -messing about in the park to our right. - -“Oh, look. The little bunnies!” - -“Talking of shedding tears----” - -“Don’t you love this time of the evening, Mr. Wooster, when the sun has -gone to bed and all the bunnies come out to have their little suppers? -When I was a child, I used to think that rabbits were gnomes, and that -if I held my breath and stayed quite still, I should see the fairy -queen.” - -Indicating with a reserved gesture that this was just the sort of loony -thing I should have expected her to think as a child, I returned to the -point. - -“Talking of shedding tears,” I said firmly, “it may interest you to -know that there is an aching heart in Brinkley Court.” - -This held her. She cheesed the rabbit theme. Her face, which had -been aglow with what I supposed was a pretty animation, clouded. She -unshipped a sigh that sounded like the wind going out of a rubber duck. - -“Ah, yes. Life is very sad, isn’t it?” - -“It is for some people. This aching heart, for instance.” - -“Those wistful eyes of hers! Drenched irises. And they used to dance -like elves of delight. And all through a foolish misunderstanding about -a shark. What a tragedy misunderstandings are. That pretty romance -broken and over just because Mr. Glossop would insist that it was a -flatfish.” - -I saw that she had got the wires crossed. - -“I’m not talking about Angela.” - -“But her heart is aching.” - -“I know it’s aching. But so is somebody else’s.” - -She looked at me, perplexed. - -“Somebody else? Mr. Glossop’s, you mean?” - -“No, I don’t.” - -“Mrs. Travers’s?” - -The exquisite code of politeness of the Woosters prevented me clipping -her one on the ear-hole, but I would have given a shilling to be able -to do it. There seemed to me something deliberately fat-headed in the -way she persisted in missing the gist. - -“No, not Aunt Dahlia’s, either.” - -“I’m sure she is dreadfully upset.” - -“Quite. But this heart I’m talking about isn’t aching because of -Tuppy’s row with Angela. It’s aching for a different reason altogether. -I mean to say--dash it, you know why hearts ache!” - -She seemed to shimmy a bit. Her voice, when she spoke, was whispery: -“You mean--for love?” - -“Absolutely. Right on the bull’s-eye. For love.” - -“Oh, Mr. Wooster!” - -“I take it you believe in love at first sight?” - -“I do, indeed.” - -“Well, that’s what happened to this aching heart. It fell in love at -first sight, and ever since it’s been eating itself out, as I believe -the expression is.” - -There was a silence. She had turned away and was watching a duck out -on the lake. It was tucking into weeds, a thing I’ve never been able -to understand anyone wanting to do. Though I suppose, if you face it -squarely, they’re no worse than spinach. She stood drinking it in for a -bit, and then it suddenly stood on its head and disappeared, and this -seemed to break the spell. - -“Oh, Mr. Wooster!” she said again, and from the tone of her voice, I -could see that I had got her going. - -“For you, I mean to say,” I proceeded, starting to put in the fancy -touches. I dare say you have noticed on these occasions that the -difficulty is to plant the main idea, to get the general outline of the -thing well fixed. The rest is mere detail work. I don’t say I became -glib at this juncture, but I certainly became a dashed glibber than I -had been. - -“It’s having the dickens of a time. Can’t eat, can’t sleep--all for -love of you. And what makes it all so particularly rotten is that -it--this aching heart--can’t bring itself up to the scratch and tell -you the position of affairs, because your profile has gone and given -it cold feet. Just as it is about to speak, it catches sight of you -sideways, and words fail it. Silly, of course, but there it is.” - -I heard her give a gulp, and I saw that her eyes had become moistish. -Drenched irises, if you care to put it that way. - -“Lend you a handkerchief?” - -“No, thank you. I’m quite all right.” - -It was more than I could say for myself. My efforts had left me weak. -I don’t know if you suffer in the same way, but with me the act of -talking anything in the nature of real mashed potatoes always induces a -sort of prickly sensation and a hideous feeling of shame, together with -a marked starting of the pores. - -I remember at my Aunt Agatha’s place in Hertfordshire once being put on -the spot and forced to enact the role of King Edward III saying goodbye -to that girl of his, Fair Rosamund, at some sort of pageant in aid of -the Distressed Daughters of the Clergy. It involved some rather warmish -medieval dialogue, I recall, racy of the days when they called a spade -a spade, and by the time the whistle blew, I’ll bet no Daughter of the -Clergy was half as distressed as I was. Not a dry stitch. - -My reaction now was very similar. It was a highly liquid Bertram who, -hearing his _vis-à-vis_ give a couple of hiccups and start to speak -bent an attentive ear. - -“Please don’t say any more, Mr. Wooster.” - -Well, I wasn’t going to, of course. - -“I understand.” - -I was glad to hear this. - -“Yes, I understand. I won’t be so silly as to pretend not to know what -you mean. I suspected this at Cannes, when you used to stand and stare -at me without speaking a word, but with whole volumes in your eyes.” - -If Angela’s shark had bitten me in the leg, I couldn’t have leaped -more convulsively. So tensely had I been concentrating on Gussie’s -interests that it hadn’t so much as crossed my mind that another and an -unfortunate construction could be placed on those words of mine. The -persp., already bedewing my brow, became a regular Niagara. - -My whole fate hung upon a woman’s word. I mean to say, I couldn’t -back out. If a girl thinks a man is proposing to her, and on that -understanding books him up, he can’t explain to her that she has got -hold of entirely the wrong end of the stick and that he hadn’t the -smallest intention of suggesting anything of the kind. He must simply -let it ride. And the thought of being engaged to a girl who talked -openly about fairies being born because stars blew their noses, or -whatever it was, frankly appalled me. - -She was carrying on with her remarks, and as I listened I clenched my -fists till I shouldn’t wonder if the knuckles didn’t stand out white -under the strain. It seemed as if she would never get to the nub. - -“Yes, all through those days at Cannes I could see what you were trying -to say. A girl always knows. And then you followed me down here, and -there was that same dumb, yearning look in your eyes when we met this -evening. And then you were so insistent that I should come out and walk -with you in the twilight. And now you stammer out those halting words. -No, this does not come as a surprise. But I am sorry----” - -The word was like one of Jeeves’s pick-me-ups. Just as if a glassful of -meat sauce, red pepper, and the yolk of an egg--though, as I say, I am -convinced that these are not the sole ingredients--had been shot into -me, I expanded like some lovely flower blossoming in the sunshine. It -was all right, after all. My guardian angel had not been asleep at the -switch. - -“--but I am afraid it is impossible.” - -She paused. - -“Impossible,” she repeated. - -I had been so busy feeling saved from the scaffold that I didn’t get on -to it for a moment that an early reply was desired. - -“Oh, right ho,” I said hastily. - -“I’m sorry.” - -“Quite all right.” - -“Sorrier than I can say.” - -“Don’t give it another thought.” - -“We can still be friends.” - -“Oh, rather.” - -“Then shall we just say no more about it; keep what has happened as a -tender little secret between ourselves?” - -“Absolutely.” - -“We will. Like something lovely and fragrant laid away in lavender.” - -“In lavender--right.” - -There was a longish pause. She was gazing at me in a divinely -pitying sort of way, much as if I had been a snail she had happened -accidentally to bring her short French vamp down on, and I longed to -tell her that it was all right, and that Bertram, so far from being the -victim of despair, had never felt fizzier in his life. But, of course, -one can’t do that sort of thing. I simply said nothing, and stood there -looking brave. - -“I wish I could,” she murmured. - -“Could?” I said, for my attensh had been wandering. - -“Feel towards you as you would like me to feel.” - -“Oh, ah.” - -“But I can’t. I’m sorry.” - -“Absolutely O.K. Faults on both sides, no doubt.” - -“Because I am fond of you, Mr.--no, I think I must call you Bertie. May -I?” - -“Oh, rather.” - -“Because we are real friends.” - -“Quite.” - -“I do like you, Bertie. And if things were different--I wonder----” - -“Eh?” - -“After all, we are real friends.... We have this common memory.... You -have a right to know.... I don’t want you to think----Life is such a -muddle, isn’t it?” - -To many men, no doubt, these broken utterances would have appeared -mere drooling and would have been dismissed as such. But the Woosters -are quicker-witted than the ordinary and can read between the lines. I -suddenly divined what it was that she was trying to get off the chest. - -“You mean there’s someone else?” - -She nodded. - -“You’re in love with some other bloke?” - -She nodded. - -“Engaged, what?” - -This time she shook the pumpkin. - -“No, not engaged.” - -Well, that was something, of course. Nevertheless, from the way she -spoke, it certainly looked as if poor old Gussie might as well scratch -his name off the entry list, and I didn’t at all like the prospect of -having to break the bad news to him. I had studied the man closely, and -it was my conviction that this would about be his finish. - -Gussie, you see, wasn’t like some of my pals--the name of Bingo Little -is one that springs to the lips--who, if turned down by a girl, would -simply say, “Well, bung-oh!” and toddle off quite happily to find -another. He was so manifestly a bird who, having failed to score in the -first chukker, would turn the thing up and spend the rest of his life -brooding over his newts and growing long grey whiskers, like one of -those chaps you read about in novels, who live in the great white house -you can just see over there through the trees and shut themselves off -from the world and have pained faces. - -“I’m afraid he doesn’t care for me in that way. At least, he has said -nothing. You understand that I am only telling you this because----” - -“Oh, rather.” - -“It’s odd that you should have asked me if I believed in love at first -sight.” She half closed her eyes. “‘Who ever loved that loved not at -first sight?’” she said in a rummy voice that brought back to me--I -don’t know why--the picture of my Aunt Agatha, as Boadicea, reciting -at that pageant I was speaking of. “It’s a silly little story. I was -staying with some friends in the country, and I had gone for a walk -with my dog, and the poor wee mite got a nasty thorn in his little foot -and I didn’t know what to do. And then suddenly this man came along----” - -Harking back once again to that pageant, in sketching out for you my -emotions on that occasion, I showed you only the darker side of the -picture. There was, I should now mention, a splendid aftermath when, -having climbed out of my suit of chain mail and sneaked off to the -local pub, I entered the saloon bar and requested mine host to start -pouring. A moment later, a tankard of their special home-brewed was -in my hand, and the ecstasy of that first gollup is still green in my -memory. The recollection of the agony through which I had passed was -just what was needed to make it perfect. - -It was the same now. When I realized, listening to her words, that she -must be referring to Gussie--I mean to say, there couldn’t have been a -whole platoon of men taking thorns out of her dog that day; the animal -wasn’t a pin-cushion--and became aware that Gussie, who an instant -before had, to all appearances, gone so far back in the betting as -not to be worth a quotation, was the big winner after all, a positive -thrill permeated the frame and there escaped my lips a “Wow!” so crisp -and hearty that the Bassett leaped a liberal inch and a half from terra -firma. - -“I beg your pardon?” she said. - -I waved a jaunty hand. - -“Nothing,” I said. “Nothing. Just remembered there’s a letter I have to -write tonight without fail. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll be going -in. Here,” I said, “comes Gussie Fink-Nottle. He will look after you.” - -And, as I spoke, Gussie came sidling out from behind a tree. - -I passed away and left them to it. As regards these two, everything -was beyond a question absolutely in order. All Gussie had to do was -keep his head down and not press. Already, I felt, as I legged it back -to the house, the happy ending must have begun to function. I mean to -say, when you leave a girl and a man, each of whom has admitted in set -terms that she and he loves him and her, in close juxtaposition in the -twilight, there doesn’t seem much more to do but start pricing fish -slices. - -Something attempted, something done, seemed to me to have earned -two-penn’orth of wassail in the smoking-room. - -I proceeded thither. - - - - --11- - - -The makings were neatly laid out on a side-table, and to pour into a -glass an inch or so of the raw spirit and shoosh some soda-water on -top of it was with me the work of a moment. This done, I retired to -an arm-chair and put my feet up, sipping the mixture with carefree -enjoyment, rather like Caesar having one in his tent the day he -overcame the Nervii. - -As I let the mind dwell on what must even now be taking place in that -peaceful garden, I felt bucked and uplifted. Though never for an -instant faltering in my opinion that Augustus Fink-Nottle was Nature’s -final word in cloth-headed guffins, I liked the man, wished him well, -and could not have felt more deeply involved in the success of his -wooing if I, and not he, had been under the ether. - -The thought that by this time he might quite easily have completed the -preliminary _pourparlers_ and be deep in an informal discussion of -honeymoon plans was very pleasant to me. - -Of course, considering the sort of girl Madeline Bassett was--stars and -rabbits and all that, I mean--you might say that a sober sadness would -have been more fitting. But in these matters you have got to realize -that tastes differ. The impulse of right-thinking men might be to run a -mile when they saw the Bassett, but for some reason she appealed to the -deeps in Gussie, so that was that. - -I had reached this point in my meditations, when I was aroused by the -sound of the door opening. Somebody came in and started moving like a -leopard toward the side-table and, lowering the feet, I perceived that -it was Tuppy Glossop. - -The sight of him gave me a momentary twinge of remorse, reminding me, -as it did, that in the excitement of getting Gussie fixed up I had -rather forgotten about this other client. It is often that way when -you’re trying to run two cases at once. - -However, Gussie now being off my mind, I was prepared to devote my -whole attention to the Glossop problem. - -I had been much pleased by the way he had carried out the task assigned -him at the dinner-table. No easy one, I can assure you, for the -browsing and sluicing had been of the highest quality, and there had -been one dish in particular--I allude to the _nonnettes de poulet Agnès -Sorel_--which might well have broken down the most iron resolution. But -he had passed it up like a professional fasting man, and I was proud of -him. - -“Oh, hullo, Tuppy,” I said, “I wanted to see you.” - -He turned, snifter in hand, and it was easy to see that his privations -had tried him sorely. He was looking like a wolf on the steppes of -Russia which has seen its peasant shin up a high tree. - -“Yes?” he said, rather unpleasantly. “Well, here I am.” - -“Well?” - -“How do you mean----well?” - -“Make your report.” - -“What report?” - -“Have you nothing to tell me about Angela?” - -“Only that she’s a blister.” - -I was concerned. - -“Hasn’t she come clustering round you yet?” - -“She has not.” - -“Very odd.” - -“Why odd?” - -“She must have noted your lack of appetite.” - -He barked raspingly, as if he were having trouble with the tonsils of -the soul. - -“Lack of appetite! I’m as hollow as the Grand Canyon.” - -“Courage, Tuppy! Think of Gandhi.” - -“What about Gandhi?” - -“He hasn’t had a square meal for years.” - -“Nor have I. Or I could swear I hadn’t. Gandhi, my left foot.” - -I saw that it might be best to let the Gandhi _motif_ slide. I went -back to where we had started. - -“She’s probably looking for you now.” - -“Who is? Angela?” - -“Yes. She must have noticed your supreme sacrifice.” - -“I don’t suppose she noticed it at all, the little fathead. I’ll bet it -didn’t register in any way whatsoever.” - -“Come, Tuppy,” I urged, “this is morbid. Don’t take this gloomy view. -She must at least have spotted that you refused those _nonnettes de -poulet Agnès Sorel_. It was a sensational renunciation and stuck out -like a sore thumb. And the _cèpes à la Rossini_----” - -A hoarse cry broke from his twisted lips: - -“Will you stop it, Bertie! Do you think I am made of marble? Isn’t it -bad enough to have sat watching one of Anatole’s supremest dinners flit -by, course after course, without having you making a song about it? -Don’t remind me of those _nonnettes_. I can’t stand it.” - -I endeavoured to hearten and console. - -“Be brave, Tuppy. Fix your thoughts on that cold steak-and-kidney pie -in the larder. As the Good Book says, it cometh in the morning.” - -“Yes, in the morning. And it’s now about half-past nine at night. You -would bring that pie up, wouldn’t you? Just when I was trying to keep -my mind off it.” - -I saw what he meant. Hours must pass before he could dig into that pie. -I dropped the subject, and we sat for a pretty good time in silence. -Then he rose and began to pace the room in an overwrought sort of way, -like a zoo lion who has heard the dinner-gong go and is hoping the -keeper won’t forget him in the general distribution. I averted my gaze -tactfully, but I could hear him kicking chairs and things. It was plain -that the man’s soul was in travail and his blood pressure high. - -Presently he returned to his seat, and I saw that he was looking at me -intently. There was that about his demeanour that led me to think that -he had something to communicate. - -Nor was I wrong. He tapped me significantly on the knee and spoke: - -“Bertie.” - -“Hullo?” - -“Shall I tell you something?” - -“Certainly, old bird,” I said cordially. “I was just beginning to feel -that the scene could do with a bit more dialogue.” - -“This business of Angela and me.” - -“Yes?” - -“I’ve been putting in a lot of solid thinking about it.” - -“Oh, yes?” - -“I have analysed the situation pitilessly, and one thing stands out as -clear as dammit. There has been dirty work afoot.” - -“I don’t get you.” - -“All right. Let me review the facts. Up to the time she went to Cannes -Angela loved me. She was all over me. I was the blue-eyed boy in every -sense of the term. You’ll admit that?” - -“Indisputably.” - -“And directly she came back we had this bust-up.” - -“Quite.” - -“About nothing.” - -“Oh, dash it, old man, nothing? You were a bit tactless, what, about -her shark.” - -“I was frank and candid about her shark. And that’s my point. Do you -seriously believe that a trifling disagreement about sharks would make -a girl hand a man his hat, if her heart were really his?” - -“Certainly.” - -It beats me why he couldn’t see it. But then poor old Tuppy has never -been very hot on the finer shades. He’s one of those large, tough, -football-playing blokes who lack the more delicate sensibilities, as -I’ve heard Jeeves call them. Excellent at blocking a punt or walking -across an opponent’s face in cleated boots, but not so good when it -comes to understanding the highly-strung female temperament. It simply -wouldn’t occur to him that a girl might be prepared to give up her -life’s happiness rather than waive her shark. - -“Rot! It was just a pretext.” - -“What was?” - -“This shark business. She wanted to get rid of me, and grabbed at the -first excuse.” - -“No, no.” - -“I tell you she did.” - -“But what on earth would she want to get rid of you for?” - -“Exactly. That’s the very question I asked myself. And here’s the -answer: Because she has fallen in love with somebody else. It sticks -out a mile. There’s no other possible solution. She goes to Cannes all -for me, she comes back all off me. Obviously during those two months, -she must have transferred her affections to some foul blister she met -out there.” - -“No, no.” - -“Don’t keep saying ‘No, no’. She must have done. Well, I’ll tell -you one thing, and you can take this as official. If ever I find -this slimy, slithery snake in the grass, he had better make all the -necessary arrangements at his favourite nursing-home without delay, -because I am going to be very rough with him. I propose, if and when -found, to take him by his beastly neck, shake him till he froths, and -pull him inside out and make him swallow himself.” - -With which words he biffed off; and I, having given him a minute or two -to get out of the way, rose and made for the drawing-room. The tendency -of females to roost in drawing-rooms after dinner being well marked, I -expected to find Angela there. It was my intention to have a word with -Angela. - -To Tuppy’s theory that some insinuating bird had stolen the girl’s -heart from him at Cannes I had given, as I have indicated, little -credence, considering it the mere unbalanced apple sauce of a bereaved -man. It was, of course, the shark, and nothing but the shark, that had -caused love’s young dream to go temporarily off the boil, and I was -convinced that a word or two with the cousin at this juncture would set -everything right. - -For, frankly, I thought it incredible that a girl of her natural -sweetness and tender-heartedness should not have been moved to her -foundations by what she had seen at dinner that night. Even Seppings, -Aunt Dahlia’s butler, a cold, unemotional man, had gasped and -practically reeled when Tuppy waved aside those _nonnettes de poulet -Agnès Sorel_, while the footman, standing by with the potatoes, had -stared like one seeing a vision. I simply refused to consider the -possibility of the significance of the thing having been lost on a nice -girl like Angela. I fully expected to find her in the drawing-room with -her heart bleeding freely, all ripe for an immediate reconciliation. - -In the drawing-room, however, when I entered, only Aunt Dahlia met the -eye. It seemed to me that she gave me rather a jaundiced look as I hove -in sight, but this, having so recently beheld Tuppy in his agony, I -attributed to the fact that she, like him, had been going light on the -menu. You can’t expect an empty aunt to beam like a full aunt. - -“Oh, it’s you, is it?” she said. - -Well, it was, of course. - -“Where’s Angela?” I asked. - -“Gone to bed.” - -“Already?” - -“She said she had a headache.” - -“H’m.” - -I wasn’t so sure that I liked the sound of that so much. A girl who -has observed the sundered lover sensationally off his feed does not -go to bed with headaches if love has been reborn in her heart. She -sticks around and gives him the swift, remorseful glance from beneath -the drooping eyelashes and generally endeavours to convey to him that, -if he wants to get together across a round table and try to find a -formula, she is all for it too. Yes, I am bound to say I found that -going-to-bed stuff a bit disquieting. - -“Gone to bed, eh?” I murmured musingly. - -“What did you want her for?” - -“I thought she might like a stroll and a chat.” - -“Are you going for a stroll?” said Aunt Dahlia, with a sudden show of -interest. “Where?” - -“Oh, hither and thither.” - -“Then I wonder if you would mind doing something for me.” - -“Give it a name.” - -“It won’t take you long. You know that path that runs past the -greenhouses into the kitchen garden. If you go along it, you come to a -pond.” - -“That’s right.” - -“Well, will you get a good, stout piece of rope or cord and go down -that path till you come to the pond----” - -“To the pond. Right.” - -“--and look about you till you find a nice, heavy stone. Or a fairly -large brick would do.” - -“I see,” I said, though I didn’t, being still fogged. “Stone or brick. -Yes. And then?” - -“Then,” said the relative, “I want you, like a good boy, to fasten the -rope to the brick and tie it around your damned neck and jump into the -pond and drown yourself. In a few days I will send and have you fished -up and buried because I shall need to dance on your grave.” - -I was more fogged than ever. And not only fogged--wounded and -resentful. I remember reading a book where a girl “suddenly fled from -the room, afraid to stay for fear dreadful things would come tumbling -from her lips; determined that she would not remain another day in this -house to be insulted and misunderstood.” I felt much about the same. - -Then I reminded myself that one has got to make allowances for a woman -with only about half a spoonful of soup inside her, and I checked the -red-hot crack that rose to the lips. - -“What,” I said gently, “is this all about? You seem pipped with -Bertram.” - -“Pipped!” - -“Noticeably pipped. Why this ill-concealed animus?” - -A sudden flame shot from her eyes, singeing my hair. - -“Who was the ass, who was the chump, who was the dithering idiot who -talked me, against my better judgment, into going without my dinner? I -might have guessed----” - -I saw that I had divined correctly the cause of her strange mood. - -“It’s all right, Aunt Dahlia. I know just how you’re feeling. A bit -on the hollow side, what? But the agony will pass. If I were you, I’d -sneak down and raid the larder after the household have gone to bed. -I am told there’s a pretty good steak-and-kidney pie there which will -repay inspection. Have faith, Aunt Dahlia,” I urged. “Pretty soon Uncle -Tom will be along, full of sympathy and anxious inquiries.” - -“Will he? Do you know where he is now?” - -“I haven’t seen him.” - -“He is in the study with his face buried in his hands, muttering about -civilization and melting pots.” - -“Eh? Why?” - -“Because it has just been my painful duty to inform him that Anatole -has given notice.” - -I own that I reeled. - -“What?” - -“Given notice. As the result of that drivelling scheme of yours. What -did you expect a sensitive, temperamental French cook to do, if you -went about urging everybody to refuse all food? I hear that when the -first two courses came back to the kitchen practically untouched, his -feelings were so hurt that he cried like a child. And when the rest of -the dinner followed, he came to the conclusion that the whole thing was -a studied and calculated insult, and decided to hand in his portfolio.” - -“Golly!” - -“You may well say ‘Golly!’ Anatole, God’s gift to the gastric juices, -gone like the dew off the petal of a rose, all through your idiocy. -Perhaps you understand now why I want you to go and jump in that pond. -I might have known that some hideous disaster would strike this house -like a thunderbolt if once you wriggled your way into it and started -trying to be clever.” - -Harsh words, of course, as from aunt to nephew, but I bore her no -resentment. No doubt, if you looked at it from a certain angle, Bertram -might be considered to have made something of a floater. - -“I am sorry.” - -“What’s the good of being sorry?” - -“I acted for what I deemed the best.” - -“Another time try acting for the worst. Then we may possibly escape -with a mere flesh wound.” - -“Uncle Tom’s not feeling too bucked about it all, you say?” - -“He’s groaning like a lost soul. And any chance I ever had of getting -that money out of him has gone.” - -I stroked the chin thoughtfully. There was, I had to admit, reason in -what she said. None knew better than I how terrible a blow the passing -of Anatole would be to Uncle Tom. - -I have stated earlier in this chronicle that this curious object of -the seashore with whom Aunt Dahlia has linked her lot is a bloke who -habitually looks like a pterodactyl that has suffered, and the reason -he does so is that all those years he spent in making millions in the -Far East put his digestion on the blink, and the only cook that has -ever been discovered capable of pushing food into him without starting -something like Old Home Week in Moscow under the third waistcoat button -is this uniquely gifted Anatole. Deprived of Anatole’s services, -all he was likely to give the wife of his b. was a dirty look. Yes, -unquestionably, things seemed to have struck a somewhat rocky patch, -and I must admit that I found myself, at moment of going to press, a -little destitute of constructive ideas. - -Confident, however, that these would come ere long, I kept the stiff -upper lip. - -“Bad,” I conceded. “Quite bad, beyond a doubt. Certainly a nasty jar -for one and all. But have no fear, Aunt Dahlia, I will fix everything.” - -I have alluded earlier to the difficulty of staggering when you’re -sitting down, showing that it is a feat of which I, personally, am not -capable. Aunt Dahlia, to my amazement, now did it apparently without an -effort. She was well wedged into a deep arm-chair, but, nevertheless, -she staggered like billy-o. A sort of spasm of horror and apprehension -contorted her face. - -“If you dare to try any more of your lunatic schemes----” - -I saw that it would be fruitless to try to reason with her. Quite -plainly, she was not in the vein. Contenting myself, accordingly, with -a gesture of loving sympathy, I left the room. Whether she did or -did not throw a handsomely bound volume of the Works of Alfred, Lord -Tennyson, at me, I am not in a position to say. I had seen it lying on -the table beside her, and as I closed the door I remember receiving the -impression that some blunt instrument had crashed against the woodwork, -but I was feeling too pre-occupied to note and observe. - -I blame myself for not having taken into consideration the possible -effects of a sudden abstinence on the part of virtually the whole -strength of the company on one of Anatole’s impulsive Provençal -temperament. These Gauls, I should have remembered, can’t take it. -Their tendency to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation -is well known. No doubt the man had put his whole soul into those -_nonnettes de poulet_, and to see them come homing back to him must -have gashed him like a knife. - -However, spilt milk blows nobody any good, and it is useless to dwell -upon it. The task now confronting Bertram was to put matters right, and -I was pacing the lawn, pondering to this end, when I suddenly heard a -groan so lost-soulish that I thought it must have proceeded from Uncle -Tom, escaped from captivity and come to groan in the garden. - -Looking about me, however, I could discern no uncles. Puzzled, I was -about to resume my meditations, when the sound came again. And peering -into the shadows I observed a dim form seated on one of the rustic -benches which so liberally dotted this pleasance and another dim form -standing beside same. A second and more penetrating glance and I had -assembled the facts. - -These dim forms were, in the order named, Gussie Fink-Nottle and -Jeeves. And what Gussie was doing, groaning all over the place like -this, was more than I could understand. - -Because, I mean to say, there was no possibility of error. He wasn’t -singing. As I approached, he gave an encore, and it was beyond question -a groan. Moreover, I could now see him clearly, and his whole aspect -was definitely sand-bagged. - -“Good evening, sir,” said Jeeves. “Mr. Fink-Nottle is not feeling well.” - -Nor was I. Gussie had begun to make a low, bubbling noise, and I -could no longer disguise it from myself that something must have gone -seriously wrong with the works. I mean, I know marriage is a pretty -solemn business and the realization that he is in for it frequently -churns a chap up a bit, but I had never come across a case of a -newly-engaged man taking it on the chin so completely as this. - -Gussie looked up. His eye was dull. He clutched the thatch. - -“Goodbye, Bertie,” he said, rising. - -I seemed to spot an error. - -“You mean ‘Hullo,’ don’t you?” - -“No, I don’t. I mean goodbye. I’m off.” - -“Off where?” - -“To the kitchen garden. To drown myself.” - -“Don’t be an ass.” - -“I’m not an ass.... Am I an ass, Jeeves?” - -“Possibly a little injudicious, sir.” - -“Drowning myself, you mean?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“You think, on the whole, not drown myself?” - -“I should not advocate it, sir.” - -“Very well, Jeeves. I accept your ruling. After all, it would be -unpleasant for Mrs. Travers to find a swollen body floating in her -pond.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And she has been very kind to me.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And you have been very kind to me, Jeeves.” - -“Thank you, sir.” - -“So have you, Bertie. Very kind. Everybody has been very kind to me. -Very, very kind. Very kind indeed. I have no complaints to make. All -right, I’ll go for a walk instead.” - -I followed him with bulging eyes as he tottered off into the dark. - -“Jeeves,” I said, and I am free to admit that in my emotion I bleated -like a lamb drawing itself to the attention of the parent sheep, “what -the dickens is all this?” - -“Mr. Fink-Nottle is not quite himself, sir. He has passed through a -trying experience.” - -I endeavoured to put together a brief synopsis of previous events. - -“I left him out here with Miss Bassett.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“I had softened her up.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“He knew exactly what he had to do. I had coached him thoroughly in -lines and business.” - -“Yes, sir. So Mr. Fink-Nottle informed me.” - -“Well, then----” - -“I regret to say, sir, that there was a slight hitch.” - -“You mean, something went wrong?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -I could not fathom. The brain seemed to be tottering on its throne. - -“But how could anything go wrong? She loves him, Jeeves.” - -“Indeed, sir?” - -“She definitely told me so. All he had to do was propose.” - -“Yes sir.” - -“Well, didn’t he?” - -“No, sir.” - -“Then what the dickens did he talk about?” - -“Newts, sir.” - -“Newts?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Newts?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“But why did he want to talk about newts?” - -“He did not want to talk about newts, sir. As I gather from Mr. -Fink-Nottle, nothing could have been more alien to his plans.” - -I simply couldn’t grasp the trend. - -“But you can’t force a man to talk about newts.” - -“Mr. Fink-Nottle was the victim of a sudden unfortunate spasm of -nervousness, sir. Upon finding himself alone with the young lady, he -admits to having lost his morale. In such circumstances, gentlemen -frequently talk at random, saying the first thing that chances to enter -their heads. This, in Mr. Fink-Nottle’s case, would seem to have been -the newt, its treatment in sickness and in health.” - -The scales fell from my eyes. I understood. I had had the same sort -of thing happen to me in moments of crisis. I remember once detaining -a dentist with the drill at one of my lower bicuspids and holding him -up for nearly ten minutes with a story about a Scotchman, an Irishman, -and a Jew. Purely automatic. The more he tried to jab, the more I said -“Hoots, mon,” “Begorrah,” and “Oy, oy”. When one loses one’s nerve, one -simply babbles. - -I could put myself in Gussie’s place. I could envisage the scene. There -he and the Bassett were, alone together in the evening stillness. No -doubt, as I had advised, he had shot the works about sunsets and fairy -princesses, and so forth, and then had arrived at the point where he -had to say that bit about having something to say to her. At this, I -take it, she lowered her eyes and said, “Oh, yes?” - -He then, I should imagine, said it was something very important; to -which her response would, one assumes, have been something on the lines -of “Really?” or “Indeed?” or possibly just the sharp intake of the -breath. And then their eyes met, just as mine met the dentist’s, and -something suddenly seemed to catch him in the pit of the stomach and -everything went black and he heard his voice starting to drool about -newts. Yes, I could follow the psychology. - -Nevertheless, I found myself blaming Gussie. On discovering that he was -stressing the newt note in this manner, he ought, of course, to have -tuned out, even if it had meant sitting there saying nothing. No matter -how much of a twitter he was in, he should have had sense enough to -see that he was throwing a spanner into the works. No girl, when she -has been led to expect that a man is about to pour forth his soul in a -fervour of passion, likes to find him suddenly shelving the whole topic -in favour of an address on aquatic Salamandridae. - -“Bad, Jeeves.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And how long did this nuisance continue?” - -“For some not inconsiderable time, I gather, sir. According to Mr. -Fink-Nottle, he supplied Miss Bassett with very full and complete -information not only with respect to the common newt, but also the -crested and palmated varieties. He described to her how newts, during -the breeding season, live in the water, subsisting upon tadpoles, -insect larvae, and crustaceans; how, later, they make their way to the -land and eat slugs and worms; and how the newly born newt has three -pairs of long, plumlike, external gills. And he was just observing -that newts differ from salamanders in the shape of the tail, which -is compressed, and that a marked sexual dimorphism prevails in most -species, when the young lady rose and said that she thought she would -go back to the house.” - -“And then----” - -“She went, sir.” - -I stood musing. More and more, it was beginning to be borne in upon -me what a particularly difficult chap Gussie was to help. He seemed -to so marked an extent to lack snap and finish. With infinite toil, -you manoeuvred him into a position where all he had to do was charge -ahead, and he didn’t charge ahead, but went off sideways, missing the -objective completely. - -“Difficult, Jeeves.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -In happier circs., of course, I would have canvassed his views on -the matter. But after what had occurred in connection with that -mess-jacket, my lips were sealed. - -“Well, I must think it over.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Burnish the brain a bit and endeavour to find the way out.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Well, good night, Jeeves.” - -“Good night, sir.” - -He shimmered off, leaving a pensive Bertram Wooster standing motionless -in the shadows. It seemed to me that it was hard to know what to do for -the best. - - - - --12- - - -I don’t know if it has happened to you at all, but a thing I’ve noticed -with myself is that, when I’m confronted by a problem which seems for -the moment to stump and baffle, a good sleep will often bring the -solution in the morning. - -It was so on the present occasion. - -The nibs who study these matters claim, I believe, that this has got -something to do with the subconscious mind, and very possibly they may -be right. I wouldn’t have said off-hand that I had a subconscious mind, -but I suppose I must without knowing it, and no doubt it was there, -sweating away diligently at the old stand, all the while the corporeal -Wooster was getting his eight hours. - -For directly I opened my eyes on the morrow, I saw daylight. Well, I -don’t mean that exactly, because naturally I did. What I mean is that I -found I had the thing all mapped out. The good old subconscious m. had -delivered the goods, and I perceived exactly what steps must be taken -in order to put Augustus Fink-Nottle among the practising Romeos. - -I should like you, if you can spare me a moment of your valuable time, -to throw your mind back to that conversation he and I had had in the -garden on the previous evening. Not the glimmering landscape bit, I -don’t mean that, but the concluding passages of it. Having done so, you -will recall that when he informed me that he never touched alcoholic -liquor, I shook the head a bit, feeling that this must inevitably -weaken him as a force where proposing to girls was concerned. - -And events had shown that my fears were well founded. - -Put to the test, with nothing but orange juice inside him, he had -proved a complete bust. In a situation calling for words of molten -passion of a nature calculated to go through Madeline Bassett like -a red-hot gimlet through half a pound of butter, he had said not a -syllable that could bring a blush to the cheek of modesty, merely -delivering a well-phrased but, in the circumstances, quite misplaced -lecture on newts. - -A romantic girl is not to be won by such tactics. Obviously, before -attempting to proceed further, Augustus Fink-Nottle must be induced to -throw off the shackling inhibitions of the past and fuel up. It must be -a primed, confident Fink-Nottle who squared up to the Bassett for Round -No. 2. - -Only so could the _Morning Post_ make its ten bob, or whatever it is, -for printing the announcement of the forthcoming nuptials. - -Having arrived at this conclusion I found the rest easy, and by the -time Jeeves brought me my tea I had evolved a plan complete in every -detail. This I was about to place before him--indeed, I had got as far -as the preliminary “I say, Jeeves”--when we were interrupted by the -arrival of Tuppy. - -He came listlessly into the room, and I was pained to observe that -a night’s rest had effected no improvement in the unhappy wreck’s -appearance. Indeed, I should have said, if anything, that he was -looking rather more moth-eaten than when I had seen him last. If you -can visualize a bulldog which has just been kicked in the ribs and had -its dinner sneaked by the cat, you will have Hildebrand Glossop as he -now stood before me. - -“Stap my vitals, Tuppy, old corpse,” I said, concerned, “you’re looking -pretty blue round the rims.” - -Jeeves slid from the presence in that tactful, eel-like way of his, and -I motioned the remains to take a seat. - -“What’s the matter?” I said. - -He came to anchor on the bed, and for awhile sat picking at the -coverlet in silence. - -“I’ve been through hell, Bertie.” - -“Through where?” - -“Hell.” - -“Oh, hell? And what took you there?” - -Once more he became silent, staring before him with sombre eyes. -Following his gaze, I saw that he was looking at an enlarged photograph -of my Uncle Tom in some sort of Masonic uniform which stood on -the mantelpiece. I’ve tried to reason with Aunt Dahlia about this -photograph for years, placing before her two alternative suggestions: -(a) To burn the beastly thing; or (b) if she must preserve it, to shove -me in another room when I come to stay. But she declines to accede. She -says it’s good for me. A useful discipline, she maintains, teaching me -that there is a darker side to life and that we were not put into this -world for pleasure only. - -“Turn it to the wall, if it hurts you, Tuppy,” I said gently. - -“Eh?” - -“That photograph of Uncle Tom as the bandmaster.” - -“I didn’t come here to talk about photographs. I came for sympathy.” - -“And you shall have it. What’s the trouble? Worrying about Angela, -I suppose? Well, have no fear. I have another well-laid plan for -encompassing that young shrimp. I’ll guarantee that she will be weeping -on your neck before yonder sun has set.” - -He barked sharply. - -“A fat chance!” - -“Tup, Tushy!” - -“Eh?” - -“I mean ‘Tush, Tuppy.’ I tell you I will do it. I was just going to -describe this plan of mine to Jeeves when you came in. Care to hear it?” - -“I don’t want to hear any of your beastly plans. Plans are no good. -She’s gone and fallen in love with this other bloke, and now hates my -gizzard.” - -“Rot.” - -“It isn’t rot.” - -“I tell you, Tuppy, as one who can read the female heart, that this -Angela loves you still.” - -“Well, it didn’t look much like it in the larder last night.” - -“Oh, you went to the larder last night?” - -“I did.” - -“And Angela was there?” - -“She was. And your aunt. Also your uncle.” - -I saw that I should require foot-notes. All this was new stuff to me. -I had stayed at Brinkley Court quite a lot in my time, but I had no -idea the larder was such a social vortex. More like a snack bar on a -race-course than anything else, it seemed to have become. - -“Tell me the whole story in your own words,” I said, “omitting no -detail, however apparently slight, for one never knows how important -the most trivial detail may be.” - -He inspected the photograph for a moment with growing gloom. - -“All right,” he said. “This is what happened. You know my views about -that steak-and-kidney pie.” - -“Quite.” - -“Well, round about one a.m. I thought the time was ripe. I stole from -my room and went downstairs. The pie seemed to beckon me.” - -I nodded. I knew how pies do. - -“I got to the larder. I fished it out. I set it on the table. I found -knife and fork. I collected salt, mustard, and pepper. There were -some cold potatoes. I added those. And I was about to pitch in when -I heard a sound behind me, and there was your aunt at the door. In a -blue-and-yellow dressing gown.” - -“Embarrassing.” - -“Most.” - -“I suppose you didn’t know where to look.” - -“I looked at Angela.” - -“She came in with my aunt?” - -“No. With your uncle, a minute or two later. He was wearing mauve -pyjamas and carried a pistol. Have you ever seen your uncle in pyjamas -and a pistol?” - -“Never.” - -“You haven’t missed much.” - -“Tell me, Tuppy,” I asked, for I was anxious to ascertain this, “about -Angela. Was there any momentary softening in her gaze as she fixed it -on you?” - -“She didn’t fix it on me. She fixed it on the pie.” - -“Did she say anything?” - -“Not right away. Your uncle was the first to speak. He said to your -aunt, ‘God bless my soul, Dahlia, what are you doing here?’ To which -she replied, ‘Well, if it comes to that, my merry somnambulist, what -are you?’ Your uncle then said that he thought there must be burglars -in the house, as he had heard noises.” - -I nodded again. I could follow the trend. Ever since the scullery -window was found open the year Shining Light was disqualified in the -Cesarewitch for boring, Uncle Tom has had a marked complex about -burglars. I can still recall my emotions when, paying my first visit -after he had bars put on all the windows and attempting to thrust the -head out in order to get a sniff of country air, I nearly fractured -my skull on a sort of iron grille, as worn by the tougher kinds of -mediaeval prison. - -“‘What sort of noises?’ said your aunt. ‘Funny noises,’ said your -uncle. Whereupon Angela--with a nasty, steely tinkle in her voice, the -little buzzard--observed, ‘I expect it was Mr. Glossop eating.’ And -then she did give me a look. It was the sort of wondering, revolted -look a very spiritual woman would give a fat man gulping soup in a -restaurant. The kind of look that makes a fellow feel he’s forty-six -round the waist and has great rolls of superfluous flesh pouring down -over the back of his collar. And, still speaking in the same unpleasant -tone, she added, ‘I ought to have told you, father, that Mr. Glossop -always likes to have a good meal three or four times during the night. -It helps to keep him going till breakfast. He has the most amazing -appetite. See, he has practically finished a large steak-and-kidney pie -already’.” - -As he spoke these words, a feverish animation swept over Tuppy. His -eyes glittered with a strange light, and he thumped the bed violently -with his fist, nearly catching me a juicy one on the leg. - -“That was what hurt, Bertie. That was what stung. I hadn’t so much as -started on that pie. But that’s a woman all over.” - -“The eternal feminine.” - -“She continued her remarks. ‘You’ve no idea,’ she said, ‘how Mr. -Glossop loves food. He just lives for it. He always eats six or seven -meals a day, and then starts in again after bedtime. I think it’s -rather wonderful.’ Your aunt seemed interested, and said it reminded -her of a boa constrictor. Angela said, didn’t she mean a python? And -then they argued as to which of the two it was. Your uncle, meanwhile, -poking about with that damned pistol of his till human life wasn’t safe -in the vicinity. And the pie lying there on the table, and me unable to -touch it. You begin to understand why I said I had been through hell.” - -“Quite. Can’t have been at all pleasant.” - -“Presently your aunt and Angela settled their discussion, deciding that -Angela was right and that it was a python that I reminded them of. And -shortly after that we all pushed back to bed, Angela warning me in a -motherly voice not to take the stairs too quickly. After seven or eight -solid meals, she said, a man of my build ought to be very careful, -because of the danger of apoplectic fits. She said it was the same with -dogs. When they became very fat and overfed, you had to see that they -didn’t hurry upstairs, as it made them puff and pant, and that was -bad for their hearts. She asked your aunt if she remembered the late -spaniel, Ambrose; and your aunt said, ‘Poor old Ambrose, you couldn’t -keep him away from the garbage pail’; and Angela said, ‘Exactly, so do -please be careful, Mr. Glossop.’ And you tell me she loves me still!” - -I did my best to encourage. - -“Girlish banter, what?” - -“Girlish banter be dashed. She’s right off me. Once her ideal, I am now -less than the dust beneath her chariot wheels. She became infatuated -with this chap, whoever he was, at Cannes, and now she can’t stand the -sight of me.” - -I raised my eyebrows. - -“My dear Tuppy, you are not showing your usual good sense in this -Angela-chap-at-Cannes matter. If you will forgive me saying so, you -have got an _idée fixe_.” - -“A what?” - -“An _idée fixe_. You know. One of those things fellows get. Like Uncle -Tom’s delusion that everybody who is known even slightly to the police -is lurking in the garden, waiting for a chance to break into the house. -You keep talking about this chap at Cannes, and there never was a -chap at Cannes, and I’ll tell you why I’m so sure about this. During -those two months on the Riviera, it so happens that Angela and I were -practically inseparable. If there had been somebody nosing round her, I -should have spotted it in a second.” - -He started. I could see that this had impressed him. - -“Oh, she was with you all the time at Cannes, was she?” - -“I don’t suppose she said two words to anybody else, except, of course, -idle conv. at the crowded dinner table or a chance remark in a throng -at the Casino.” - -“I see. You mean that anything in the shape of mixed bathing and -moonlight strolls she conducted solely in your company?” - -“That’s right. It was quite a joke in the hotel.” - -“You must have enjoyed that.” - -“Oh, rather. I’ve always been devoted to Angela.” - -“Oh, yes?” - -“When we were kids, she used to call herself my little sweetheart.” - -“She did?” - -“Absolutely.” - -“I see.” - -He sat plunged in thought, while I, glad to have set his mind at rest, -proceeded with my tea. And presently there came the banging of a gong -from the hall below, and he started like a war horse at the sound of -the bugle. - -“Breakfast!” he said, and was off to a flying start, leaving me to -brood and ponder. And the more I brooded and pondered, the more did it -seem to me that everything now looked pretty smooth. Tuppy, I could -see, despite that painful scene in the larder, still loved Angela with -all the old fervour. - -This meant that I could rely on that plan to which I had referred to -bring home the bacon. And as I had found the way to straighten out the -Gussie-Bassett difficulty, there seemed nothing more to worry about. - -It was with an uplifted heart that I addressed Jeeves as he came in to -remove the tea tray. - - - - --13- - - -“Jeeves,” I said. - -“Sir?” - -“I’ve just been having a chat with young Tuppy, Jeeves. Did you happen -to notice that he wasn’t looking very roguish this morning?” - -“Yes, sir. It seemed to me that Mr. Glossop’s face was sicklied o’er -with the pale cast of thought.” - -“Quite. He met my cousin Angela in the larder last night, and a rather -painful interview ensued.” - -“I am sorry, sir.” - -“Not half so sorry as he was. She found him closeted with a -steak-and-kidney pie, and appears to have been a bit caustic about fat -men who lived for food alone.” - -“Most disturbing, sir.” - -“Very. In fact, many people would say that things had gone so far -between these two nothing now could bridge the chasm. A girl who could -make cracks about human pythons who ate nine or ten meals a day and -ought to be careful not to hurry upstairs because of the danger of -apoplectic fits is a girl, many people would say, in whose heart love -is dead. Wouldn’t people say that, Jeeves?” - -“Undeniably, sir.” - -“They would be wrong.” - -“You think so, sir?” - -“I am convinced of it. I know these females. You can’t go by what they -say.” - -“You feel that Miss Angela’s strictures should not be taken too much -_au pied de la lettre_, sir?” - -“Eh?” - -“In English, we should say ‘literally’.” - -“Literally. That’s exactly what I mean. You know what girls are. A tiff -occurs, and they shoot their heads off. But underneath it all the old -love still remains. Am I correct?” - -“Quite correct, sir. The poet Scott----” - -“Right ho, Jeeves.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“And in order to bring that old love whizzing to the surface once more, -all that is required is the proper treatment.” - -“By ‘proper treatment,’ sir, you mean----” - -“Clever handling, Jeeves. A spot of the good old snaky work. I see what -must be done to jerk my Cousin Angela back to normalcy. I’ll tell you, -shall I?” - -“If you would be so kind, sir.” - -I lit a cigarette, and eyed him keenly through the smoke. He waited -respectfully for me to unleash the words of wisdom. I must say for -Jeeves that--till, as he is so apt to do, he starts shoving his oar in -and cavilling and obstructing--he makes a very good audience. I don’t -know if he is actually agog, but he looks agog, and that’s the great -thing. - -“Suppose you were strolling through the illimitable jungle, Jeeves, and -happened to meet a tiger cub.” - -“The contingency is a remote one, sir.” - -“Never mind. Let us suppose it.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“Let us now suppose that you sloshed that tiger cub, and let us suppose -further that word reached its mother that it was being put upon. What -would you expect the attitude of that mother to be? In what frame of -mind do you consider that that tigress would approach you?” - -“I should anticipate a certain show of annoyance, sir.” - -“And rightly. Due to what is known as the maternal instinct, what?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Very good, Jeeves. We will now suppose that there has recently been -some little coolness between this tiger cub and this tigress. For some -days, let us say, they have not been on speaking terms. Do you think -that that would make any difference to the vim with which the latter -would leap to the former’s aid?” - -“No, sir.” - -“Exactly. Here, then, in brief, is my plan, Jeeves. I am going to draw -my Cousin Angela aside to a secluded spot and roast Tuppy properly.” - -“Roast, sir?” - -“Knock. Slam. Tick-off. Abuse. Denounce. I shall be very terse about -Tuppy, giving it as my opinion that in all essentials he is more like -a wart hog than an ex-member of a fine old English public school. What -will ensue? Hearing him attacked, my Cousin Angela’s womanly heart will -be as sick as mud. The maternal tigress in her will awake. No matter -what differences they may have had, she will remember only that he -is the man she loves, and will leap to his defence. And from that to -falling into his arms and burying the dead past will be but a step. How -do you react to that?” - -“The idea is an ingenious one, sir.” - -“We Woosters are ingenious, Jeeves, exceedingly ingenious.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“As a matter of fact, I am not speaking without a knowledge of the form -book. I have tested this theory.” - -“Indeed, sir?” - -“Yes, in person. And it works. I was standing on the Eden rock at -Antibes last month, idly watching the bathers disport themselves in the -water, and a girl I knew slightly pointed at a male diver and asked -me if I didn’t think his legs were about the silliest-looking pair of -props ever issued to human being. I replied that I did, indeed, and -for the space of perhaps two minutes was extraordinarily witty and -satirical about this bird’s underpinning. At the end of that period, I -suddenly felt as if I had been caught up in the tail of a cyclone. - -“Beginning with a _critique_ of my own limbs, which she said, justly -enough, were nothing to write home about, this girl went on to dissect -my manners, morals, intellect, general physique, and method of eating -asparagus with such acerbity that by the time she had finished the best -you could say of Bertram was that, so far as was known, he had never -actually committed murder or set fire to an orphan asylum. Subsequent -investigation proved that she was engaged to the fellow with the legs -and had had a slight disagreement with him the evening before on the -subject of whether she should or should not have made an original call -of two spades, having seven, but without the ace. That night I saw them -dining together with every indication of relish, their differences made -up and the lovelight once more in their eyes. That shows you, Jeeves.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“I expect precisely similar results from my Cousin Angela when I start -roasting Tuppy. By lunchtime, I should imagine, the engagement will be -on again and the diamond-and-platinum ring glittering as of yore on her -third finger. Or is it the fourth?” - -“Scarcely by luncheon time, sir. Miss Angela’s maid informs me that -Miss Angela drove off in her car early this morning with the intention -of spending the day with friends in the vicinity.” - -“Well, within half an hour of whatever time she comes back, then. These -are mere straws, Jeeves. Do not let us chop them.” - -“No, sir.” - -“The point is that, as far as Tuppy and Angela are concerned, we may -say with confidence that everything will shortly be hotsy-totsy once -more. And what an agreeable thought that is, Jeeves.” - -“Very true, sir.” - -“If there is one thing that gives me the pip, it is two loving hearts -being estranged.” - -“I can readily appreciate the fact, sir.” - -I placed the stub of my gasper in the ash tray and lit another, to -indicate that that completed Chap. I. - -“Right ho, then. So much for the western front. We now turn to the -eastern.” - -“Sir?” - -“I speak in parables, Jeeves. What I mean is, we now approach the -matter of Gussie and Miss Bassett.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Here, Jeeves, more direct methods are required. In handling the case -of Augustus Fink-Nottle, we must keep always in mind the fact that we -are dealing with a poop.” - -“A sensitive plant would, perhaps, be a kinder expression, sir.” - -“No, Jeeves, a poop. And with poops one has to employ the strong, -forceful, straightforward policy. Psychology doesn’t get you anywhere. -You, if I may remind you without wounding your feelings, fell into -the error of mucking about with psychology in connection with this -Fink-Nottle, and the result was a wash-out. You attempted to push -him over the line by rigging him out in a Mephistopheles costume and -sending him off to a fancy-dress ball, your view being that scarlet -tights would embolden him. Futile.” - -“The matter was never actually put to the test, sir.” - -“No. Because he didn’t get to the ball. And that strengthens my -argument. A man who can set out in a cab for a fancy-dress ball and -not get there is manifestly a poop of no common order. I don’t think I -have ever known anybody else who was such a dashed silly ass that he -couldn’t even get to a fancy-dress ball. Have you, Jeeves?” - -“No, sir.” - -“But don’t forget this, because it is the point I wish, above all, -to make: Even if Gussie had got to that ball; even if those scarlet -tights, taken in conjunction with his horn-rimmed spectacles, hadn’t -given the girl a fit of some kind; even if she had rallied from the -shock and he had been able to dance and generally hobnob with her; even -then your efforts would have been fruitless, because, Mephistopheles -costume or no Mephistopheles costume, Augustus Fink-Nottle would never -have been able to summon up the courage to ask her to be his. All -that would have resulted would have been that she would have got that -lecture on newts a few days earlier. And why, Jeeves? Shall I tell you -why?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Because he would have been attempting the hopeless task of trying to -do the thing on orange juice.” - -“Sir?” - -“Gussie is an orange-juice addict. He drinks nothing else.” - -“I was not aware of that, sir.” - -“I have it from his own lips. Whether from some hereditary taint, -or because he promised his mother he wouldn’t, or simply because he -doesn’t like the taste of the stuff, Gussie Fink-Nottle has never in -the whole course of his career pushed so much as the simplest gin and -tonic over the larynx. And he expects--this poop expects, Jeeves--this -wabbling, shrinking, diffident rabbit in human shape expects under -these conditions to propose to the girl he loves. One hardly knows -whether to smile or weep, what?” - -“You consider total abstinence a handicap to a gentleman who wishes to -make a proposal of marriage, sir?” - -The question amazed me. - -“Why, dash it,” I said, astounded, “you must know it is. Use your -intelligence, Jeeves. Reflect what proposing means. It means that a -decent, self-respecting chap has got to listen to himself saying things -which, if spoken on the silver screen, would cause him to dash to the -box-office and demand his money back. Let him attempt to do it on -orange juice, and what ensues? Shame seals his lips, or, if it doesn’t -do that, makes him lose his morale and start to babble. Gussie, for -example, as we have seen, babbles of syncopated newts.” - -“Palmated newts, sir.” - -“Palmated or syncopated, it doesn’t matter which. The point is that -he babbles and is going to babble again, if he has another try at -it. Unless--and this is where I want you to follow me very closely, -Jeeves--unless steps are taken at once through the proper channels. -Only active measures, promptly applied, can provide this poor, -pusillanimous poop with the proper pep. And that is why, Jeeves, I -intend tomorrow to secure a bottle of gin and lace his luncheon orange -juice with it liberally.” - -“Sir?” - -I clicked the tongue. - -“I have already had occasion, Jeeves,” I said rebukingly, “to comment -on the way you say ‘Well, sir’ and ‘Indeed, sir?’ I take this -opportunity of informing you that I object equally strongly to your -‘Sir?’ pure and simple. The word seems to suggest that in your opinion -I have made a statement or mooted a scheme so bizarre that your brain -reels at it. In the present instance, there is absolutely nothing to -say ‘Sir?’ about. The plan I have put forward is entirely reasonable -and icily logical, and should excite no sirring whatsoever. Or don’t -you think so?” - -“Well, sir----” - -“Jeeves!” - -“I beg your pardon, sir. The expression escaped me inadvertently. What -I intended to say, since you press me, was that the action which you -propose does seem to me somewhat injudicious.” - -“Injudicious? I don’t follow you, Jeeves.” - -“A certain amount of risk would enter into it, in my opinion, sir. -It is not always a simple matter to gauge the effect of alcohol on -a subject unaccustomed to such stimulant. I have known it to have -distressing results in the case of parrots.” - -“Parrots?” - -“I was thinking of an incident of my earlier life, sir, before I -entered your employment. I was in the service of the late Lord -Brancaster at the time, a gentleman who owned a parrot to which he was -greatly devoted, and one day the bird chanced to be lethargic, and his -lordship, with the kindly intention of restoring it to its customary -animation, offered it a portion of seed cake steeped in the ’84 port. -The bird accepted the morsel gratefully and consumed it with every -indication of satisfaction. Almost immediately afterwards, however, -its manner became markedly feverish. Having bitten his lordship in the -thumb and sung part of a sea-chanty, it fell to the bottom of the cage -and remained there for a considerable period of time with its legs in -the air, unable to move. I merely mention this, sir, in order to----” - -I put my finger on the flaw. I had spotted it all along. - -“But Gussie isn’t a parrot.” - -“No, sir, but----” - -“It is high time, in my opinion, that this question of what young -Gussie really is was threshed out and cleared up. He seems to think -he is a male newt, and you now appear to suggest that he is a parrot. -The truth of the matter being that he is just a plain, ordinary poop -and needs a snootful as badly as ever man did. So no more discussion, -Jeeves. My mind is made up. There is only one way of handling this -difficult case, and that is the way I have outlined.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“Right ho, Jeeves. So much for that, then. Now here’s something else: -You noticed that I said I was going to put this project through -tomorrow, and no doubt you wondered why I said tomorrow. Why did I, -Jeeves?” - -“Because you feel that if it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well -it were done quickly, sir?” - -“Partly, Jeeves, but not altogether. My chief reason for fixing -the date as specified is that tomorrow, though you have doubtless -forgotten, is the day of the distribution of prizes at Market Snodsbury -Grammar School, at which, as you know, Gussie is to be the male star -and master of the revels. So you see we shall, by lacing that juice, -not only embolden him to propose to Miss Bassett, but also put him so -into shape that he will hold that Market Snodsbury audience spellbound.” - -“In fact, you will be killing two birds with one stone, sir.” - -“Exactly. A very neat way of putting it. And now here is a minor point. -On second thoughts, I think the best plan will be for you, not me, to -lace the juice.” - -“Sir?” - -“Jeeves!” - -“I beg your pardon, sir.” - -“And I’ll tell you why that will be the best plan. Because you are in -a position to obtain ready access to the stuff. It is served to Gussie -daily, I have noticed, in an individual jug. This jug will presumably -be lying about the kitchen or somewhere before lunch tomorrow. It will -be the simplest of tasks for you to slip a few fingers of gin in it.” - -“No doubt, sir, but----” - -“Don’t say ‘but,’ Jeeves.” - -“I fear, sir----” - -“‘I fear, sir’ is just as bad.” - -“What I am endeavouring to say, sir, is that I am sorry, but I am -afraid I must enter an unequivocal _nolle prosequi_.” - -“Do what?” - -“The expression is a legal one, sir, signifying the resolve not to -proceed with a matter. In other words, eager though I am to carry out -your instructions, sir, as a general rule, on this occasion I must -respectfully decline to co-operate.” - -“You won’t do it, you mean?” - -“Precisely, sir.” - -I was stunned. I began to understand how a general must feel when he -has ordered a regiment to charge and has been told that it isn’t in the -mood. - -“Jeeves,” I said, “I had not expected this of you.” - -“No, sir?” - -“No, indeed. Naturally, I realize that lacing Gussie’s orange juice -is not one of those regular duties for which you receive the monthly -stipend, and if you care to stand on the strict letter of the contract, -I suppose there is nothing to be done about it. But you will permit me -to observe that this is scarcely the feudal spirit.” - -“I am sorry, sir.” - -“It is quite all right, Jeeves, quite all right. I am not angry, only a -little hurt.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“Right ho, Jeeves.” - - - - --14- - - -Investigation proved that the friends Angela had gone to spend the day -with were some stately-home owners of the name of Stretchley-Budd, -hanging out in a joint called Kingham Manor, about eight miles distant -in the direction of Pershore. I didn’t know these birds, but their -fascination must have been considerable, for she tore herself away -from them only just in time to get back and dress for dinner. It was, -accordingly, not until coffee had been consumed that I was able to get -matters moving. I found her in the drawing-room and at once proceeded -to put things in train. - -It was with very different feelings from those which had animated the -bosom when approaching the Bassett twenty-four hours before in the same -manner in this same drawing-room that I headed for where she sat. As -I had told Tuppy, I have always been devoted to Angela, and there is -nothing I like better than a ramble in her company. - -And I could see by the look of her now how sorely in need she was of my -aid and comfort. - -Frankly, I was shocked by the unfortunate young prune’s appearance. At -Cannes she had been a happy, smiling English girl of the best type, -full of beans and buck. Her face now was pale and drawn, like that of -a hockey centre-forward at a girls’ school who, in addition to getting -a fruity one on the shin, has just been penalized for “sticks”. In any -normal gathering, her demeanour would have excited instant remark, but -the standard of gloom at Brinkley Court had become so high that it -passed unnoticed. Indeed, I shouldn’t wonder if Uncle Tom, crouched in -his corner waiting for the end, didn’t think she was looking indecently -cheerful. - -I got down to the agenda in my debonair way. - -“What ho, Angela, old girl.” - -“Hullo, Bertie, darling.” - -“Glad you’re back at last. I missed you.” - -“Did you, darling?” - -“I did, indeed. Care to come for a saunter?” - -“I’d love it.” - -“Fine. I have much to say to you that is not for the public ear.” - -I think at this moment poor old Tuppy must have got a sudden touch of -cramp. He had been sitting hard by, staring at the ceiling, and he -now gave a sharp leap like a gaffed salmon and upset a small table -containing a vase, a bowl of potpourri, two china dogs, and a copy of -Omar Khayyám bound in limp leather. - -Aunt Dahlia uttered a startled hunting cry. Uncle Tom, who probably -imagined from the noise that this was civilization crashing at last, -helped things along by breaking a coffee-cup. - -Tuppy said he was sorry. Aunt Dahlia, with a deathbed groan, said -it didn’t matter. And Angela, having stared haughtily for a moment -like a princess of the old régime confronted by some notable example -of gaucherie on the part of some particularly foul member of the -underworld, accompanied me across the threshold. And presently I had -deposited her and self on one of the rustic benches in the garden, and -was ready to snap into the business of the evening. - -I considered it best, however, before doing so, to ease things along -with a little informal chitchat. You don’t want to rush a delicate job -like the one I had in hand. And so for a while we spoke of neutral -topics. She said that what had kept her so long at the Stretchley-Budds -was that Hilda Stretchley-Budd had made her stop on and help with the -arrangements for their servants’ ball tomorrow night, a task which she -couldn’t very well decline, as all the Brinkley Court domestic staff -were to be present. I said that a jolly night’s revelry might be just -what was needed to cheer Anatole up and take his mind off things. To -which she replied that Anatole wasn’t going. On being urged to do so by -Aunt Dahlia, she said, he had merely shaken his head sadly and gone on -talking of returning to Provence, where he was appreciated. - -It was after the sombre silence induced by this statement that Angela -said the grass was wet and she thought she would go in. - -This, of course, was entirely foreign to my policy. - -“No, don’t do that. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since you -arrived.” - -“I shall ruin my shoes.” - -“Put your feet up on my lap.” - -“All right. And you can tickle my ankles.” - -“Quite.” - -Matters were accordingly arranged on these lines, and for some minutes -we continued chatting in desultory fashion. Then the conversation -petered out. I made a few observations _in re_ the scenic effects, -featuring the twilight hush, the peeping stars, and the soft glimmer -of the waters of the lake, and she said yes. Something rustled in the -bushes in front of us, and I advanced the theory that it was possibly -a weasel, and she said it might be. But it was plain that the girl was -distraite, and I considered it best to waste no more time. - -“Well, old thing,” I said, “I’ve heard all about your little dust-up. So -those wedding bells are not going to ring out, what?” - -“No.” - -“Definitely over, is it?” - -“Yes.” - -“Well, if you want my opinion, I think that’s a bit of goose for you, -Angela, old girl. I think you’re extremely well out of it. It’s a -mystery to me how you stood this Glossop so long. Take him for all in -all, he ranks very low down among the wines and spirits. A washout, I -should describe him as. A frightful oik, and a mass of side to boot. -I’d pity the girl who was linked for life to a bargee like Tuppy -Glossop.” - -And I emitted a hard laugh--one of the sneering kind. - -“I always thought you were such friends,” said Angela. - -I let go another hard one, with a bit more top spin on it than the -first time: - -“Friends? Absolutely not. One was civil, of course, when one met the -fellow, but it would be absurd to say one was a friend of his. A club -acquaintance, and a mere one at that. And then one was at school with -the man.” - -“At Eton?” - -“Good heavens, no. We wouldn’t have a fellow like that at Eton. At -a kid’s school before I went there. A grubby little brute he was, -I recollect. Covered with ink and mire generally, washing only on -alternate Thursdays. In short, a notable outsider, shunned by all.” - -I paused. I was more than a bit perturbed. Apart from the agony of -having to talk in this fashion of one who, except when he was looping -back rings and causing me to plunge into swimming baths in correct -evening costume, had always been a very dear and esteemed crony, I -didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. Business was not resulting. Staring -into the bushes without a yip, she appeared to be bearing these slurs -and innuendos of mine with an easy calm. - -I had another pop at it: - -“‘Uncouth’ about sums it up. I doubt if I’ve ever seen an uncouther kid -than this Glossop. Ask anyone who knew him in those days to describe -him in a word, and the word they will use is ‘uncouth’. And he’s just -the same today. It’s the old story. The boy is the father of the man.” - -She appeared not to have heard. - -“The boy,” I repeated, not wishing her to miss that one, “is the father -of the man.” - -“What are you talking about?” - -“I’m talking about this Glossop.” - -“I thought you said something about somebody’s father.” - -“I said the boy was the father of the man.” - -“What boy?” - -“The boy Glossop.” - -“He hasn’t got a father.” - -“I never said he had. I said he was the father of the boy--or, rather, -of the man.” - -“What man?” - -I saw that the conversation had reached a point where, unless care was -taken, we should be muddled. - -“The point I am trying to make,” I said, “is that the boy Glossop is -the father of the man Glossop. In other words, each loathsome fault and -blemish that led the boy Glossop to be frowned upon by his fellows is -present in the man Glossop, and causes him--I am speaking now of the -man Glossop--to be a hissing and a byword at places like the Drones, -where a certain standard of decency is demanded from the inmates. Ask -anyone at the Drones, and they will tell you that it was a black day -for the dear old club when this chap Glossop somehow wriggled into -the list of members. Here you will find a man who dislikes his face; -there one who could stand his face if it wasn’t for his habits. But the -universal consensus of opinion is that the fellow is a bounder and a -tick, and that the moment he showed signs of wanting to get into the -place he should have been met with a firm _nolle prosequi_ and heartily -blackballed.” - -I had to pause again here, partly in order to take in a spot of breath, -and partly to wrestle with the almost physical torture of saying these -frightful things about poor old Tuppy. - -“There are some chaps,” I resumed, forcing myself once more to the -nauseous task, “who, in spite of looking as if they had slept in their -clothes, can get by quite nicely because they are amiable and suave. -There are others who, for all that they excite adverse comment by being -fat and uncouth, find themselves on the credit side of the ledger -owing to their wit and sparkling humour. But this Glossop, I regret -to say, falls into neither class. In addition to looking like one of -those things that come out of hollow trees, he is universally admitted -to be a dumb brick of the first water. No soul. No conversation. In -short, any girl who, having been rash enough to get engaged to him, -has managed at the eleventh hour to slide out is justly entitled to -consider herself dashed lucky.” - -I paused once more, and cocked an eye at Angela to see how the -treatment was taking. All the while I had been speaking, she had -sat gazing silently into the bushes, but it seemed to me incredible -that she should not now turn on me like a tigress, according to -specifications. It beat me why she hadn’t done it already. It seemed -to me that a mere tithe of what I had said, if said to a tigress about -a tiger of which she was fond, would have made her--the tigress, I -mean--hit the ceiling. - -And the next moment you could have knocked me down with a toothpick. - -“Yes,” she said, nodding thoughtfully, “you’re quite right.” - -“Eh?” - -“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking myself.” - -“What!” - -“‘Dumb brick.’ It just describes him. One of the six silliest asses in -England, I should think he must be.” - -I did not speak. I was endeavouring to adjust the faculties, which were -in urgent need of a bit of first-aid treatment. - -I mean to say, all this had come as a complete surprise. In formulating -the well-laid plan which I had just been putting into effect, the -one contingency I had not budgeted for was that she might adhere to -the sentiments which I expressed. I had braced myself for a gush of -stormy emotion. I was expecting the tearful ticking off, the girlish -recriminations and all the rest of the bag of tricks along those lines. - -But this cordial agreement with my remarks I had not foreseen, and it -gave me what you might call pause for thought. - -She proceeded to develop her theme, speaking in ringing, enthusiastic -tones, as if she loved the topic. Jeeves could tell you the word I -want. I think it’s “ecstatic”, unless that’s the sort of rash you get -on your face and have to use ointment for. But if that is the right -word, then that’s what her manner was as she ventilated the subject of -poor old Tuppy. If you had been able to go simply by the sound of her -voice, she might have been a court poet cutting loose about an Oriental -monarch, or Gussie Fink-Nottle describing his last consignment of newts. - -“It’s so nice, Bertie, talking to somebody who really takes a sensible -view about this man Glossop. Mother says he’s a good chap, which is -simply absurd. Anybody can see that he’s absolutely impossible. He’s -conceited and opinionative and argues all the time, even when he knows -perfectly well that he’s talking through his hat, and he smokes too -much and eats too much and drinks too much, and I don’t like the colour -of his hair. Not that he’ll have any hair in a year or two, because -he’s pretty thin on the top already, and before he knows where he is -he’ll be as bald as an egg, and he’s the last man who can afford to -go bald. And I think it’s simply disgusting, the way he gorges all -the time. Do you know, I found him in the larder at one o’clock this -morning, absolutely wallowing in a steak-and-kidney pie? There was -hardly any of it left. And you remember what an enormous dinner he -had. Quite disgusting, I call it. But I can’t stop out here all night, -talking about men who aren’t worth wasting a word on and haven’t even -enough sense to tell sharks from flatfish. I’m going in.” - -And gathering about her slim shoulders the shawl which she had put on -as a protection against the evening dew, she buzzed off, leaving me -alone in the silent night. - -Well, as a matter of fact, not absolutely alone, because a few moments -later there was a sort of upheaval in the bushes in front of me, and -Tuppy emerged. - - - - --15- - - -I gave him the eye. The evening had begun to draw in a bit by now -and the visibility, in consequence, was not so hot, but there still -remained ample light to enable me to see him clearly. And what I saw -convinced me that I should be a lot easier in my mind with a stout -rustic bench between us. I rose, accordingly, modelling my style on -that of a rocketing pheasant, and proceeded to deposit myself on the -other side of the object named. - -My prompt agility was not without its effect. He seemed somewhat taken -aback. He came to a halt, and, for about the space of time required to -allow a bead of persp. to trickle from the top of the brow to the tip -of the nose, stood gazing at me in silence. - -“So!” he said at length, and it came as a complete surprise to me that -fellows ever really do say “So!” I had always thought it was just -a thing you read in books. Like “Quotha!” I mean to say, or “Odds -bodikins!” or even “Eh, ba goom!” - -Still, there it was. Quaint or not quaint, bizarre or not bizarre, he -had said “So!” and it was up to me to cope with the situation on those -lines. - -It would have been a duller man than Bertram Wooster who had failed -to note that the dear old chap was a bit steamed up. Whether his eyes -were actually shooting forth flame, I couldn’t tell you, but there -appeared to me to be a distinct incandescence. For the rest, his fists -were clenched, his ears quivering, and the muscles of his jaw rotating -rhythmically, as if he were making an early supper off something. - -His hair was full of twigs, and there was a beetle hanging to the side -of his head which would have interested Gussie Fink-Nottle. To this, -however, I paid scant attention. There is a time for studying beetles -and a time for not studying beetles. - -“So!” he said again. - -Now, those who know Bertram Wooster best will tell you that he is -always at his shrewdest and most level-headed in moments of peril. Who -was it who, when gripped by the arm of the law on boat-race night not -so many years ago and hauled off to Vine Street police station, assumed -in a flash the identity of Eustace H. Plimsoll, of The Laburnums, -Alleyn Road, West Dulwich, thus saving the grand old name of Wooster -from being dragged in the mire and avoiding wide publicity of the wrong -sort? Who was it ... - -But I need not labour the point. My record speaks for itself. Three -times pinched, but never once sentenced under the correct label. Ask -anyone at the Drones about this. - -So now, in a situation threatening to become every moment more scaly, I -did not lose my head. I preserved the old sang-froid. Smiling a genial -and affectionate smile, and hoping that it wasn’t too dark for it to -register, I spoke with a jolly cordiality: - -“Why, hallo, Tuppy. You here?” - -He said, yes, he was here. - -“Been here long?” - -“I have.” - -“Fine. I wanted to see you.” - -“Well, here I am. Come out from behind that bench.” - -“No, thanks, old man. I like leaning on it. It seems to rest the spine.” - -“In about two seconds,” said Tuppy, “I’m going to kick your spine up -through the top of your head.” - -I raised the eyebrows. Not much good, of course, in that light, but it -seemed to help the general composition. - -“Is this Hildebrand Glossop speaking?” I said. - -He replied that it was, adding that if I wanted to make sure I might -move a few feet over in his direction. He also called me an opprobrious -name. - -I raised the eyebrows again. - -“Come, come, Tuppy, don’t let us let this little chat become acrid. Is -‘acrid’ the word I want?” - -“I couldn’t say,” he replied, beginning to sidle round the bench. - -I saw that anything I might wish to say must be said quickly. Already -he had sidled some six feet. And though, by dint of sidling, too, I had -managed to keep the bench between us, who could predict how long this -happy state of affairs would last? - -I came to the point, therefore. - -“I think I know what’s on your mind, Tuppy,” I said. “If you were in -those bushes during my conversation with the recent Angela, I dare say -you heard what I was saying about you.” - -“I did.” - -“I see. Well, we won’t go into the ethics of the thing. Eavesdropping, -some people might call it, and I can imagine stern critics drawing in -the breath to some extent. Considering it--I don’t want to hurt your -feelings, Tuppy--but considering it un-English. A bit un-English, -Tuppy, old man, you must admit.” - -“I’m Scotch.” - -“Really?” I said. “I never knew that before. Rummy how you don’t -suspect a man of being Scotch unless he’s Mac-something and says ‘Och, -aye’ and things like that. I wonder,” I went on, feeling that an -academic discussion on some neutral topic might ease the tension, “if -you can tell me something that has puzzled me a good deal. What exactly -is it that they put into haggis? I’ve often wondered about that.” - -From the fact that his only response to the question was to leap over -the bench and make a grab at me, I gathered that his mind was not on -haggis. - -“However,” I said, leaping over the bench in my turn, “that is a side -issue. If, to come back to it, you were in those bushes and heard what -I was saying about you----” - -He began to move round the bench in a nor’-nor’-easterly direction. I -followed his example, setting a course sou’-sou’-west. - -“No doubt you were surprised at the way I was talking.” - -“Not a bit.” - -“What? Did nothing strike you as odd in the tone of my remarks?” - -“It was just the sort of stuff I should have expected a treacherous, -sneaking hound like you to say.” - -“My dear chap,” I protested, “this is not your usual form. A bit slow -in the uptake, surely? I should have thought you would have spotted -right away that it was all part of a well-laid plan.” - -“I’ll get you in a jiffy,” said Tuppy, recovering his balance after a -swift clutch at my neck. And so probable did this seem that I delayed -no longer, but hastened to place all the facts before him. - -Speaking rapidly and keeping moving, I related my emotions on receipt -of Aunt Dahlia’s telegram, my instant rush to the scene of the -disaster, my meditations in the car, and the eventual framing of this -well-laid plan of mine. I spoke clearly and well, and it was with -considerable concern, consequently, that I heard him observe--between -clenched teeth, which made it worse--that he didn’t believe a damned -word of it. - -“But, Tuppy,” I said, “why not? To me the thing rings true to the last -drop. What makes you sceptical? Confide in me, Tuppy.” - -He halted and stood taking a breather. Tuppy, pungently though Angela -might have argued to the contrary, isn’t really fat. During the winter -months you will find him constantly booting the football with merry -shouts, and in the summer the tennis racket is seldom out of his hand. - -But at the recently concluded evening meal, feeling, no doubt, that -after that painful scene in the larder there was nothing to be gained -by further abstinence, he had rather let himself go and, as it were, -made up leeway; and after really immersing himself in one of Anatole’s -dinners, a man of his sturdy build tends to lose elasticity a bit. -During the exposition of my plans for his happiness a certain animation -had crept into this round-and-round-the mulberry-bush jamboree of -ours--so much so, indeed, that for the last few minutes we might have -been a rather oversized greyhound and a somewhat slimmer electric hare -doing their stuff on a circular track for the entertainment of the -many-headed. - -This, it appeared, had taken it out of him a bit, and I was not -displeased. I was feeling the strain myself, and welcomed a lull. - -“It absolutely beats me why you don’t believe it,” I said. “You know -we’ve been pals for years. You must be aware that, except at the moment -when you caused me to do a nose dive into the Drones’ swimming bath, -an incident which I long since decided to put out of my mind and let -the dead past bury its dead about, if you follow what I mean--except on -that one occasion, as I say, I have always regarded you with the utmost -esteem. Why, then, if not for the motives I have outlined, should I -knock you to Angela? Answer me that. Be very careful.” - -“What do you mean, be very careful?” - -Well, as a matter of fact, I didn’t quite know myself. It was what the -magistrate had said to me on the occasion when I stood in the dock -as Eustace Plimsoll, of The Laburnums: and as it had impressed me a -good deal at the time, I just bunged it in now by way of giving the -conversation a tone. - -“All right. Never mind about being careful, then. Just answer me that -question. Why, if I had not your interests sincerely at heart, should I -have ticked you off, as stated?” - -A sharp spasm shook him from base to apex. The beetle, which, during -the recent exchanges, had been clinging to his head, hoping for the -best, gave it up at this and resigned office. It shot off and was -swallowed in the night. - -“Ah!” I said. “Your beetle,” I explained. “No doubt you were unaware of -it, but all this while there has been a beetle of sorts parked on the -side of your head. You have now dislodged it.” - -He snorted. - -“Beetles!” - -“Not beetles. One beetle only.” - -“I like your crust!” cried Tuppy, vibrating like one of Gussie’s newts -during the courting season. “Talking of beetles, when all the time you -know you’re a treacherous, sneaking hound.” - -It was a debatable point, of course, why treacherous, sneaking hounds -should be considered ineligible to talk about beetles, and I dare say a -good cross-examining counsel would have made quite a lot of it. - -But I let it go. - -“That’s the second time you’ve called me that. And,” I said firmly, “I -insist on an explanation. I have told you that I acted throughout from -the best and kindliest motives in roasting you to Angela. It cut me -to the quick to have to speak like that, and only the recollection of -our lifelong friendship would have made me do it. And now you say you -don’t believe me and call me names for which I am not sure I couldn’t -have you up before a beak and jury and mulct you in very substantial -damages. I should have to consult my solicitor, of course, but it would -surprise me very much if an action did not lie. Be reasonable, Tuppy. -Suggest another motive I could have had. Just one.” - -“I will. Do you think I don’t know? You’re in love with Angela -yourself.” - -“What?” - -“And you knocked me in order to poison her mind against me and finally -remove me from your path.” - -I had never heard anything so absolutely loopy in my life. Why, dash -it, I’ve known Angela since she was so high. You don’t fall in love -with close relations you’ve known since they were so high. Besides, -isn’t there something in the book of rules about a man may not marry -his cousin? Or am I thinking of grandmothers? - -“Tuppy, my dear old ass,” I cried, “this is pure banana oil! You’ve -come unscrewed.” - -“Oh, yes?” - -“Me in love with Angela? Ha-ha!” - -“You can’t get out of it with ha-ha’s. She called you ‘darling’.” - -“I know. And I disapproved. This habit of the younger g. of scattering -‘darlings’ about like birdseed is one that I deprecate. Lax, is how I -should describe it.” - -“You tickled her ankles.” - -“In a purely cousinly spirit. It didn’t mean a thing. Why, dash it, you -must know that in the deeper and truer sense I wouldn’t touch Angela -with a barge pole.” - -“Oh? And why not? Not good enough for you?” - -“You misunderstand me,” I hastened to reply. “When I say I wouldn’t -touch Angela with a barge pole, I intend merely to convey that my -feelings towards her are those of distant, though cordial, esteem. In -other words, you may rest assured that between this young prune and -myself there never has been and never could be any sentiment warmer and -stronger than that of ordinary friendship.” - -“I believe it was you who tipped her off that I was in the larder last -night, so that she could find me there with that pie, thus damaging my -prestige.” - -“My dear Tuppy! A Wooster?” I was shocked. “You think a Wooster would -do that?” - -He breathed heavily. - -“Listen,” he said. “It’s no good your standing there arguing. You can’t -get away from the facts. Somebody stole her from me at Cannes. You told -me yourself that she was with you all the time at Cannes and hardly saw -anybody else. You gloated over the mixed bathing, and those moonlight -walks you had together----” - -“Not gloated. Just mentioned them.” - -“So now you understand why, as soon as I can get you clear of this -damned bench, I am going to tear you limb from limb. Why they have -these bally benches in gardens,” said Tuppy discontentedly, “is more -than I can see. They only get in the way.” - -He ceased, and, grabbing out, missed me by a hair’s breadth. - -It was a moment for swift thinking, and it is at such moments, as I -have already indicated, that Bertram Wooster is at his best. I suddenly -remembered the recent misunderstanding with the Bassett, and with a -flash of clear vision saw that this was where it was going to come in -handy. - -“You’ve got it all wrong, Tuppy,” I said, moving to the left. “True, -I saw a lot of Angela, but my dealings with her were on a basis from -start to finish of the purest and most wholesome camaraderie. I can -prove it. During that sojourn in Cannes my affections were engaged -elsewhere.” - -“What?” - -“Engaged elsewhere. My affections. During that sojourn.” - -I had struck the right note. He stopped sidling. His clutching hand -fell to his side. - -“Is that true?” - -“Quite official.” - -“Who was she?” - -“My dear Tuppy, does one bandy a woman’s name?” - -“One does if one doesn’t want one’s ruddy head pulled off.” - -I saw that it was a special case. - -“Madeline Bassett,” I said. - -“Who?” - -“Madeline Bassett.” - -He seemed stunned. - -“You stand there and tell me you were in love with that Bassett -disaster?” - -“I wouldn’t call her ‘that Bassett disaster’, Tuppy. Not respectful.” - -“Dash being respectful. I want the facts. You deliberately assert that -you loved that weird Gawd-help-us?” - -“I don’t see why you should call her a weird Gawd-help-us, either. A -very charming and beautiful girl. Odd in some of her views perhaps--one -does not quite see eye to eye with her in the matter of stars and -rabbits--but not a weird Gawd-help-us.” - -“Anyway, you stick to it that you were in love with her?” - -“I do.” - -“It sounds thin to me, Wooster, very thin.” - -I saw that it would be necessary to apply the finishing touch. - -“I must ask you to treat this as entirely confidential, Glossop, but -I may as well inform you that it is not twenty-four hours since she -turned me down.” - -“Turned you down?” - -“Like a bedspread. In this very garden.” - -“Twenty-four hours?” - -“Call it twenty-five. So you will readily see that I can’t be the chap, -if any, who stole Angela from you at Cannes.” - -And I was on the brink of adding that I wouldn’t touch Angela with a -barge pole, when I remembered I had said it already and it hadn’t gone -frightfully well. I desisted, therefore. - -My manly frankness seemed to be producing good results. The homicidal -glare was dying out of Tuppy’s eyes. He had the aspect of a hired -assassin who had paused to think things over. - -“I see,” he said, at length. “All right, then. Sorry you were troubled.” - -“Don’t mention it, old man,” I responded courteously. - -For the first time since the bushes had begun to pour forth Glossops, -Bertram Wooster could be said to have breathed freely. I don’t say -I actually came out from behind the bench, but I did let go of it, -and with something of the relief which those three chaps in the Old -Testament must have experienced after sliding out of the burning fiery -furnace, I even groped tentatively for my cigarette case. - -The next moment a sudden snort made me take my fingers off it as if it -had bitten me. I was distressed to note in the old friend a return of -the recent frenzy. - -“What the hell did you mean by telling her that I used to be covered -with ink when I was a kid?” - -“My dear Tuppy----” - -“I was almost finickingly careful about my personal cleanliness as a -boy. You could have eaten your dinner off me.” - -“Quite. But----” - -“And all that stuff about having no soul. I’m crawling with soul. And -being looked on as an outsider at the Drones----” - -“But, my dear old chap, I explained that. It was all part of my ruse or -scheme.” - -“It was, was it? Well, in future do me a favour and leave me out of -your foul ruses.” - -“Just as you say, old boy.” - -“All right, then. That’s understood.” - -He relapsed into silence, standing with folded arms, staring before -him rather like a strong, silent man in a novel when he’s just been -given the bird by the girl and is thinking of looking in at the Rocky -Mountains and bumping off a few bears. His manifest pippedness excited -my compash, and I ventured a kindly word. - -“I don’t suppose you know what _au pied de la lettre_ means, Tuppy, but -that’s how I don’t think you ought to take all that stuff Angela was -saying just now too much.” - -He seemed interested. - -“What the devil,” he asked, “are you talking about?” - -I saw that I should have to make myself clearer. - -“Don’t take all that guff of hers too literally, old man. You know what -girls are like.” - -“I do,” he said, with another snort that came straight up from his -insteps. “And I wish I’d never met one.” - -“I mean to say, it’s obvious that she must have spotted you in those -bushes and was simply talking to score off you. There you were, I mean, -if you follow the psychology, and she saw you, and in that impulsive -way girls have, she seized the opportunity of ribbing you a bit--just -told you a few home truths, I mean to say.” - -“Home truths?” - -“That’s right.” - -He snorted once more, causing me to feel rather like royalty receiving -a twenty-one gun salute from the fleet. I can’t remember ever having -met a better right-and-left-hand snorter. - -“What do you mean, ‘home truths’? I’m not fat.” - -“No, no.” - -“And what’s wrong with the colour of my hair?” - -“Quite in order, Tuppy, old man. The hair, I mean.” - -“And I’m not a bit thin on the top.... What the dickens are you -grinning about?” - -“Not grinning. Just smiling slightly. I was conjuring up a sort of -vision, if you know what I mean, of you as seen through Angela’s eyes. -Fat in the middle and thin on the top. Rather funny.” - -“You think it funny, do you?” - -“Not a bit.” - -“You’d better not.” - -“Quite.” - -It seemed to me that the conversation was becoming difficult again. -I wished it could be terminated. And so it was. For at this moment -something came shimmering through the laurels in the quiet evenfall, -and I perceived that it was Angela. - -She was looking sweet and saintlike, and she had a plate of sandwiches -in her hand. Ham, I was to discover later. - -“If you see Mr. Glossop anywhere, Bertie,” she said, her eyes resting -dreamily on Tuppy’s facade, “I wish you would give him these. I’m so -afraid he may be hungry, poor fellow. It’s nearly ten o’clock, and he -hasn’t eaten a morsel since dinner. I’ll just leave them on this bench.” - -She pushed off, and it seemed to me that I might as well go with her. -Nothing to keep me here, I mean. We moved towards the house, and -presently from behind us there sounded in the night the splintering -crash of a well-kicked plate of ham sandwiches, accompanied by the -muffled oaths of a strong man in his wrath. - -“How still and peaceful everything is,” said Angela. - - - - --16- - - -Sunshine was gilding the grounds of Brinkley Court and the ear detected -a marked twittering of birds in the ivy outside the window when I woke -next morning to a new day. But there was no corresponding sunshine in -Bertram Wooster’s soul and no answering twitter in his heart as he -sat up in bed, sipping his cup of strengthening tea. It could not be -denied that to Bertram, reviewing the happenings of the previous night, -the Tuppy-Angela situation seemed more or less to have slipped a cog. -With every desire to look for the silver lining, I could not but feel -that the rift between these two haughty spirits had now reached such -impressive proportions that the task of bridging same would be beyond -even my powers. - -I am a shrewd observer, and there had been something in Tuppy’s manner -as he booted that plate of ham sandwiches that seemed to tell me that -he would not lightly forgive. - -In these circs., I deemed it best to shelve their problem for the nonce -and turn the mind to the matter of Gussie, which presented a brighter -picture. - -With regard to Gussie, everything was in train. Jeeves’s morbid -scruples about lacing the chap’s orange juice had put me to a good deal -of trouble, but I had surmounted every obstacle in the old Wooster -way. I had secured an abundance of the necessary spirit, and it was -now lying in its flask in the drawer of the dressing-table. I had also -ascertained that the jug, duly filled, would be standing on a shelf in -the butler’s pantry round about the hour of one. To remove it from that -shelf, sneak it up to my room, and return it, laced, in good time for -the midday meal would be a task calling, no doubt, for address, but in -no sense an exacting one. - -It was with something of the emotions of one preparing a treat for a -deserving child that I finished my tea and rolled over for that extra -spot of sleep which just makes all the difference when there is man’s -work to be done and the brain must be kept clear for it. - -And when I came downstairs an hour or so later, I knew how right I -had been to formulate this scheme for Gussie’s bucking up. I ran into -him on the lawn, and I could see at a glance that if ever there was a -man who needed a snappy stimulant, it was he. All nature, as I have -indicated, was smiling, but not Augustus Fink-Nottle. He was walking -round in circles, muttering something about not proposing to detain us -long, but on this auspicious occasion feeling compelled to say a few -words. - -“Ah, Gussie,” I said, arresting him as he was about to start another -lap. “A lovely morning, is it not?” - -Even if I had not been aware of it already, I could have divined from -the abruptness with which he damned the lovely morning that he was not -in merry mood. I addressed myself to the task of bringing the roses -back to his cheeks. - -“I’ve got good news for you, Gussie.” - -He looked at me with a sudden sharp interest. - -“Has Market Snodsbury Grammar School burned down?” - -“Not that I know of.” - -“Have mumps broken out? Is the place closed on account of measles?” - -“No, no.” - -“Then what do you mean you’ve got good news?” - -I endeavoured to soothe. - -“You mustn’t take it so hard, Gussie. Why worry about a laughably -simple job like distributing prizes at a school?” - -“Laughably simple, eh? Do you realize I’ve been sweating for days and -haven’t been able to think of a thing to say yet, except that I won’t -detain them long. You bet I won’t detain them long. I’ve been timing my -speech, and it lasts five seconds. What the devil am I to say, Bertie? -What do you say when you’re distributing prizes?” - -I considered. Once, at my private school, I had won a prize for -Scripture knowledge, so I suppose I ought to have been full of inside -stuff. But memory eluded me. - -Then something emerged from the mists. - -“You say the race is not always to the swift.” - -“Why?” - -“Well, it’s a good gag. It generally gets a hand.” - -“I mean, why isn’t it? Why isn’t the race to the swift?” - -“Ah, there you have me. But the nibs say it isn’t.” - -“But what does it mean?” - -“I take it it’s supposed to console the chaps who haven’t won prizes.” - -“What’s the good of that to me? I’m not worrying about them. It’s the -ones that have won prizes that I’m worrying about, the little blighters -who will come up on the platform. Suppose they make faces at me.” - -“They won’t.” - -“How do you know they won’t? It’s probably the first thing they’ll -think of. And even if they don’t--Bertie, shall I tell you something?” - -“What?” - -“I’ve a good mind to take that tip of yours and have a drink.” - -I smiled. He little knew, about summed up what I was thinking. - -“Oh, you’ll be all right,” I said. - -He became fevered again. - -“How do you know I’ll be all right? I’m sure to blow up in my lines.” - -“Tush!” - -“Or drop a prize.” - -“Tut!” - -“Or something. I can feel it in my bones. As sure as I’m standing here, -something is going to happen this afternoon which will make everybody -laugh themselves sick at me. I can hear them now. Like hyenas.... -Bertie!” - -“Hullo?” - -“Do you remember that kids’ school we went to before Eton?” - -“Quite. It was there I won my Scripture prize.” - -“Never mind about your Scripture prize. I’m not talking about your -Scripture prize. Do you recollect the Bosher incident?” - -I did, indeed. It was one of the high spots of my youth. - -“Major-General Sir Wilfred Bosher came to distribute the prizes at that -school,” proceeded Gussie in a dull, toneless voice. “He dropped a -book. He stooped to pick it up. And, as he stooped, his trousers split -up the back.” - -“How we roared!” - -Gussie’s face twisted. - -“We did, little swine that we were. Instead of remaining silent and -exhibiting a decent sympathy for a gallant officer at a peculiarly -embarrassing moment, we howled and yelled with mirth. I loudest of -any. That is what will happen to me this afternoon, Bertie. It will be -a judgment on me for laughing like that at Major-General Sir Wilfred -Bosher.” - -“No, no, Gussie, old man. Your trousers won’t split.” - -“How do you know they won’t? Better men than I have split their -trousers. General Bosher was a D.S.O., with a fine record of service on -the north-western frontier of India, and his trousers split. I shall be -a mockery and a scorn. I know it. And you, fully cognizant of what I am -in for, come babbling about good news. What news could possibly be good -to me at this moment except the information that bubonic plague had -broken out among the scholars of Market Snodsbury Grammar School, and -that they were all confined to their beds with spots?” - -The moment had come for me to speak. I laid a hand gently on his -shoulder. He brushed it off. I laid it on again. He brushed it off -once more. I was endeavouring to lay it on for the third time, when he -moved aside and desired, with a certain petulance, to be informed if I -thought I was a ruddy osteopath. - -I found his manner trying, but one has to make allowances. I was -telling myself that I should be seeing a very different Gussie after -lunch. - -“When I said I had good news, old man, I meant about Madeline Bassett.” - -The febrile gleam died out of his eyes, to be replaced by a look of -infinite sadness. - -“You can’t have good news about her. I’ve dished myself there -completely.” - -“Not at all. I am convinced that if you take another whack at her, all -will be well.” - -And, keeping it snappy, I related what had passed between the Bassett -and myself on the previous night. - -“So all you have to do is play a return date, and you cannot fail to -swing the voting. You are her dream man.” - -He shook his head. - -“No.” - -“What?” - -“No use.” - -“What do you mean?” - -“Not a bit of good trying.” - -“But I tell you she said in so many words----” - -“It doesn’t make any difference. She may have loved me once. Last night -will have killed all that.” - -“Of course it won’t.” - -“It will. She despises me now.” - -“Not a bit of it. She knows you simply got cold feet.” - -“And I should get cold feet if I tried again. It’s no good, Bertie. I’m -hopeless, and there’s an end of it. Fate made me the sort of chap who -can’t say ‘bo’ to a goose.” - -“It isn’t a question of saying ‘bo’ to a goose. The point doesn’t arise -at all. It is simply a matter of----” - -“I know, I know. But it’s no good. I can’t do it. The whole thing is -off. I am not going to risk a repetition of last night’s fiasco. You -talk in a light way of taking another whack at her, but you don’t know -what it means. You have not been through the experience of starting to -ask the girl you love to marry you and then suddenly finding yourself -talking about the plumlike external gills of the newly-born newt. It’s -not a thing you can do twice. No, I accept my destiny. It’s all over. -And now, Bertie, like a good chap, shove off. I want to compose my -speech. I can’t compose my speech with you mucking around. If you are -going to continue to muck around, at least give me a couple of stories. -The little hell hounds are sure to expect a story or two.” - -“Do you know the one about----” - -“No good. I don’t want any of your off-colour stuff from the Drones’ -smoking-room. I need something clean. Something that will be a help to -them in their after lives. Not that I care a damn about their after -lives, except that I hope they’ll all choke.” - -“I heard a story the other day. I can’t quite remember it, but it was -about a chap who snored and disturbed the neighbours, and it ended, ‘It -was his adenoids that adenoid them.’” - -He made a weary gesture. - -“You expect me to work that in, do you, into a speech to be delivered -to an audience of boys, every one of whom is probably riddled with -adenoids? Damn it, they’d rush the platform. Leave me, Bertie. Push -off. That’s all I ask you to do. Push off.... Ladies and gentlemen,” -said Gussie, in a low, soliloquizing sort of way, “I do not propose to -detain this auspicious occasion long----” - -It was a thoughtful Wooster who walked away and left him at it. More -than ever I was congratulating myself on having had the sterling good -sense to make all my arrangements so that I could press a button and -set things moving at an instant’s notice. - -Until now, you see, I had rather entertained a sort of hope that when -I had revealed to him the Bassett’s mental attitude, Nature would -have done the rest, bracing him up to such an extent that artificial -stimulants would not be required. Because, naturally, a chap doesn’t -want to have to sprint about country houses lugging jugs of orange -juice, unless it is absolutely essential. - -But now I saw that I must carry on as planned. The total absence -of pep, ginger, and the right spirit which the man had displayed -during these conversational exchanges convinced me that the strongest -measures would be necessary. Immediately upon leaving him, therefore, -I proceeded to the pantry, waited till the butler had removed himself -elsewhere, and nipped in and secured the vital jug. A few moments -later, after a wary passage of the stairs, I was in my room. And the -first thing I saw there was Jeeves, fooling about with trousers. - -He gave the jug a look which--wrongly, as it was to turn out--I -diagnosed as censorious. I drew myself up a bit. I intended to have no -rot from the fellow. - -“Yes, Jeeves?” - -“Sir?” - -“You have the air of one about to make a remark, Jeeves.” - -“Oh, no, sir. I note that you are in possession of Mr. Fink-Nottle’s -orange juice. I was merely about to observe that in my opinion it would -be injudicious to add spirit to it.” - -“That is a remark, Jeeves, and it is precisely----” - -“Because I have already attended to the matter, sir.” - -“What?” - -“Yes, sir. I decided, after all, to acquiesce in your wishes.” - -I stared at the man, astounded. I was deeply moved. Well, I mean, -wouldn’t any chap who had been going about thinking that the old feudal -spirit was dead and then suddenly found it wasn’t have been deeply -moved? - -“Jeeves,” I said, “I am touched.” - -“Thank you, sir.” - -“Touched and gratified.” - -“Thank you very much, sir.” - -“But what caused this change of heart?” - -“I chanced to encounter Mr. Fink-Nottle in the garden, sir, while you -were still in bed, and we had a brief conversation.” - -“And you came away feeling that he needed a bracer?” - -“Very much so, sir. His attitude struck me as defeatist.” - -I nodded. - -“I felt the same. ‘Defeatist’ sums it up to a nicety. Did you tell him -his attitude struck you as defeatist?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“But it didn’t do any good?” - -“No, sir.” - -“Very well, then, Jeeves. We must act. How much gin did you put in the -jug?” - -“A liberal tumblerful, sir.” - -“Would that be a normal dose for an adult defeatist, do you think?” - -“I fancy it should prove adequate, sir.” - -“I wonder. We must not spoil the ship for a ha’porth of tar. I think -I’ll add just another fluid ounce or so.” - -“I would not advocate it, sir. In the case of Lord Brancaster’s -parrot----” - -“You are falling into your old error, Jeeves, of thinking that Gussie -is a parrot. Fight against this. I shall add the oz.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“And, by the way, Jeeves, Mr. Fink-Nottle is in the market for bright, -clean stories to use in his speech. Do you know any?” - -“I know a story about two Irishmen, sir.” - -“Pat and Mike?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Who were walking along Broadway?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Just what he wants. Any more?” - -“No, sir.” - -“Well, every little helps. You had better go and tell it to him.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -He passed from the room, and I unscrewed the flask and tilted into the -jug a generous modicum of its contents. And scarcely had I done so, -when there came to my ears the sound of footsteps without. I had only -just time to shove the jug behind the photograph of Uncle Tom on the -mantelpiece before the door opened and in came Gussie, curveting like a -circus horse. - -“What-ho, Bertie,” he said. “What-ho, what-ho, what-ho, and again -what-ho. What a beautiful world this is, Bertie. One of the nicest I -ever met.” - -I stared at him, speechless. We Woosters are as quick as lightning, and -I saw at once that something had happened. - -I mean to say, I told you about him walking round in circles. I -recorded what passed between us on the lawn. And if I portrayed the -scene with anything like adequate skill, the picture you will have -retained of this Fink-Nottle will have been that of a nervous wreck, -sagging at the knees, green about the gills, and picking feverishly -at the lapels of his coat in an ecstasy of craven fear. In a word, -defeatist. Gussie, during that interview, had, in fine, exhibited all -the earmarks of one licked to a custard. - -Vastly different was the Gussie who stood before me now. -Self-confidence seemed to ooze from the fellow’s every pore. His face -was flushed, there was a jovial light in his eyes, the lips were parted -in a swashbuckling smile. And when with a genial hand he sloshed me on -the back before I could sidestep, it was as if I had been kicked by a -mule. - -“Well, Bertie,” he proceeded, as blithely as a linnet without a thing -on his mind, “you will be glad to hear that you were right. Your theory -has been tested and proved correct. I feel like a fighting cock.” - -My brain ceased to reel. I saw all. - -“Have you been having a drink?” - -“I have. As you advised. Unpleasant stuff. Like medicine. Burns your -throat, too, and makes one as thirsty as the dickens. How anyone can -mop it up, as you do, for pleasure, beats me. Still, I would be the -last to deny that it tunes up the system. I could bite a tiger.” - -“What did you have?” - -“Whisky. At least, that was the label on the decanter, and I have no -reason to suppose that a woman like your aunt--staunch, true-blue, -British--would deliberately deceive the public. If she labels her -decanters Whisky, then I consider that we know where we are.” - -“A whisky and soda, eh? You couldn’t have done better.” - -“Soda?” said Gussie thoughtfully. “I knew there was something I had -forgotten.” - -“Didn’t you put any soda in it?” - -“It never occurred to me. I just nipped into the dining-room and drank -out of the decanter.” - -“How much?” - -“Oh, about ten swallows. Twelve, maybe. Or fourteen. Say sixteen -medium-sized gulps. Gosh, I’m thirsty.” - -He moved over to the wash-stand and drank deeply out of the water -bottle. I cast a covert glance at Uncle Tom’s photograph behind his -back. For the first time since it had come into my life, I was glad -that it was so large. It hid its secret well. If Gussie had caught -sight of that jug of orange juice, he would unquestionably have been on -to it like a knife. - -“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling braced,” I said. - -He moved buoyantly from the wash-hand stand, and endeavoured to slosh -me on the back again. Foiled by my nimble footwork, he staggered to the -bed and sat down upon it. - -“Braced? Did I say I could bite a tiger?” - -“You did.” - -“Make it two tigers. I could chew holes in a steel door. What an ass -you must have thought me out there in the garden. I see now you were -laughing in your sleeve.” - -“No, no.” - -“Yes,” insisted Gussie. “That very sleeve,” he said, pointing. “And I -don’t blame you. I can’t imagine why I made all that fuss about a potty -job like distributing prizes at a rotten little country grammar school. -Can you imagine, Bertie?” - -“No.” - -“Exactly. Nor can I imagine. There’s simply nothing to it. I just -shin up on the platform, drop a few gracious words, hand the little -blighters their prizes, and hop down again, admired by all. Not a -suggestion of split trousers from start to finish. I mean, why should -anybody split his trousers? I can’t imagine. Can you imagine?” - -“No.” - -“Nor can I imagine. I shall be a riot. I know just the sort of stuff -that’s needed--simple, manly, optimistic stuff straight from the -shoulder. This shoulder,” said Gussie, tapping. “Why I was so nervous -this morning I can’t imagine. For anything simpler than distributing -a few footling books to a bunch of grimy-faced kids I can’t imagine. -Still, for some reason I can’t imagine, I was feeling a little nervous, -but now I feel fine, Bertie--fine, fine, fine--and I say this to you as -an old friend. Because that’s what you are, old man, when all the smoke -has cleared away--an old friend. I don’t think I’ve ever met an older -friend. How long have you been an old friend of mine, Bertie?” - -“Oh, years and years.” - -“Imagine! Though, of course, there must have been a time when you were -a new friend.... Hullo, the luncheon gong. Come on, old friend.” - -And, rising from the bed like a performing flea, he made for the door. - -I followed rather pensively. What had occurred was, of course, so much -velvet, as you might say. I mean, I had wanted a braced Fink-Nottle-- -indeed, all my plans had had a braced Fink-Nottle as their end and aim ---but I found myself wondering a little whether the Fink-Nottle now -sliding down the banister wasn’t, perhaps, a shade too braced. His -demeanour seemed to me that of a man who might quite easily throw bread -about at lunch. - -Fortunately, however, the settled gloom of those round him exercised a -restraining effect upon him at the table. It would have needed a far -more plastered man to have been rollicking at such a gathering. I had -told the Bassett that there were aching hearts in Brinkley Court, and -it now looked probable that there would shortly be aching tummies. -Anatole, I learned, had retired to his bed with a fit of the vapours, -and the meal now before us had been cooked by the kitchen maid--as C3 a -performer as ever wielded a skillet. - -This, coming on top of their other troubles, induced in the company a -pretty unanimous silence--a solemn stillness, as you might say--which -even Gussie did not seem prepared to break. Except, therefore, for one -short snatch of song on his part, nothing untoward marked the occasion, -and presently we rose, with instructions from Aunt Dahlia to put on -festal raiment and be at Market Snodsbury not later than 3.30. This -leaving me ample time to smoke a gasper or two in a shady bower beside -the lake, I did so, repairing to my room round about the hour of three. - -Jeeves was on the job, adding the final polish to the old topper, and -I was about to apprise him of the latest developments in the matter of -Gussie, when he forestalled me by observing that the latter had only -just concluded an agreeable visit to the Wooster bedchamber. - -“I found Mr. Fink-Nottle seated here when I arrived to lay out your -clothes, sir.” - -“Indeed, Jeeves? Gussie was in here, was he?” - -“Yes, sir. He left only a few moments ago. He is driving to the school -with Mr. and Mrs. Travers in the large car.” - -“Did you give him your story of the two Irishmen?” - -“Yes, sir. He laughed heartily.” - -“Good. Had you any other contributions for him?” - -“I ventured to suggest that he might mention to the young gentlemen -that education is a drawing out, not a putting in. The late Lord -Brancaster was much addicted to presenting prizes at schools, and he -invariably employed this dictum.” - -“And how did he react to that?” - -“He laughed heartily, sir.” - -“This surprised you, no doubt? This practically incessant merriment, I -mean.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“You thought it odd in one who, when you last saw him, was well up in -Group A of the defeatists.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“There is a ready explanation, Jeeves. Since you last saw him, Gussie -has been on a bender. He’s as tight as an owl.” - -“Indeed, sir?” - -“Absolutely. His nerve cracked under the strain, and he sneaked into -the dining-room and started mopping the stuff up like a vacuum cleaner. -Whisky would seem to be what he filled the radiator with. I gather that -he used up most of the decanter. Golly, Jeeves, it’s lucky he didn’t -get at that laced orange juice on top of that, what?” - -“Extremely, sir.” - -I eyed the jug. Uncle Tom’s photograph had fallen into the fender, and -it was standing there right out in the open, where Gussie couldn’t have -helped seeing it. Mercifully, it was empty now. - -“It was a most prudent act on your part, if I may say so, sir, to -dispose of the orange juice.” - -I stared at the man. - -“What? Didn’t you?” - -“No, sir.” - -“Jeeves, let us get this clear. Was it not you who threw away that -o.j.?” - -“No, sir. I assumed, when I entered the room and found the pitcher -empty, that you had done so.” - -We looked at each other, awed. Two minds with but a single thought. - -“I very much fear, sir----” - -“So do I, Jeeves.” - -“It would seem almost certain----” - -“Quite certain. Weigh the facts. Sift the evidence. The jug was -standing on the mantelpiece, for all eyes to behold. Gussie had been -complaining of thirst. You found him in here, laughing heartily. I -think that there can be little doubt, Jeeves, that the entire contents -of that jug are at this moment reposing on top of the existing cargo in -that already brilliantly lit man’s interior. Disturbing, Jeeves.” - -“Most disturbing, sir.” - -“Let us face the position, forcing ourselves to be calm. You inserted -in that jug--shall we say a tumblerful of the right stuff?” - -“Fully a tumblerful, sir.” - -“And I added of my plenty about the same amount.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And in two shakes of a duck’s tail Gussie, with all that lapping about -inside him, will be distributing the prizes at Market Snodsbury Grammar -School before an audience of all that is fairest and most refined in -the county.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“It seems to me, Jeeves, that the ceremony may be one fraught with -considerable interest.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“What, in your opinion, will the harvest be?” - -“One finds it difficult to hazard a conjecture, sir.” - -“You mean imagination boggles?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -I inspected my imagination. He was right. It boggled. - - - - --17- - - -“And yet, Jeeves,” I said, twiddling a thoughtful steering wheel, -“there is always the bright side.” - -Some twenty minutes had elapsed, and having picked the honest fellow -up outside the front door, I was driving in the two-seater to the -picturesque town of Market Snodsbury. Since we had parted--he to go to -his lair and fetch his hat, I to remain in my room and complete the -formal costume--I had been doing some close thinking. - -The results of this I now proceeded to hand on to him. - -“However dark the prospect may be, Jeeves, however murkily the -storm clouds may seem to gather, a keen eye can usually discern the -blue bird. It is bad, no doubt, that Gussie should be going, some -ten minutes from now, to distribute prizes in a state of advanced -intoxication, but we must never forget that these things cut both ways.” - -“You imply, sir----” - -“Precisely. I am thinking of him in his capacity of wooer. All this -ought to have put him in rare shape for offering his hand in marriage. -I shall be vastly surprised if it won’t turn him into a sort of -caveman. Have you ever seen James Cagney in the movies?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Something on those lines.” - -I heard him cough, and sniped him with a sideways glance. He was -wearing that informative look of his. - -“Then you have not heard, sir?” - -“Eh?” - -“You are not aware that a marriage has been arranged and will shortly -take place between Mr. Fink-Nottle and Miss Bassett?” - -“What?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“When did this happen?” - -“Shortly after Mr. Fink-Nottle had left your room, sir.” - -“Ah! In the post-orange-juice era?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“But are you sure of your facts? How do you know?” - -“My informant was Mr. Fink-Nottle himself, sir. He appeared anxious -to confide in me. His story was somewhat incoherent, but I had no -difficulty in apprehending its substance. Prefacing his remarks with -the statement that this was a beautiful world, he laughed heartily and -said that he had become formally engaged.” - -“No details?” - -“No, sir.” - -“But one can picture the scene.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“I mean, imagination doesn’t boggle.” - -“No, sir.” - -And it didn’t. I could see exactly what must have happened. Insert a -liberal dose of mixed spirits in a normally abstemious man, and he -becomes a force. He does not stand around, twiddling his fingers and -stammering. He acts. I had no doubt that Gussie must have reached for -the Bassett and clasped her to him like a stevedore handling a sack of -coals. And one could readily envisage the effect of that sort of thing -on a girl of romantic mind. - -“Well, well, well, Jeeves.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“This is splendid news.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“You see now how right I was.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“It must have been rather an eye-opener for you, watching me handle -this case.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“The simple, direct method never fails.” - -“No, sir.” - -“Whereas the elaborate does.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Right ho, Jeeves.” - -We had arrived at the main entrance of Market Snodsbury Grammar School. -I parked the car, and went in, well content. True, the Tuppy-Angela -problem still remained unsolved and Aunt Dahlia’s five hundred quid -seemed as far off as ever, but it was gratifying to feel that good old -Gussie’s troubles were over, at any rate. - -The Grammar School at Market Snodsbury had, I understood, been built -somewhere in the year 1416, and, as with so many of these ancient -foundations, there still seemed to brood over its Great Hall, where -the afternoon’s festivities were to take place, not a little of the -fug of the centuries. It was the hottest day of the summer, and though -somebody had opened a tentative window or two, the atmosphere remained -distinctive and individual. - -In this hall the youth of Market Snodsbury had been eating its daily -lunch for a matter of five hundred years, and the flavour lingered. The -air was sort of heavy and languorous, if you know what I mean, with the -scent of Young England and boiled beef and carrots. - -Aunt Dahlia, who was sitting with a bevy of the local nibs in the -second row, sighted me as I entered and waved to me to join her, but I -was too smart for that. I wedged myself in among the standees at the -back, leaning up against a chap who, from the aroma, might have been a -corn chandler or something on that order. The essence of strategy on -these occasions is to be as near the door as possible. - -The hall was gaily decorated with flags and coloured paper, and the -eye was further refreshed by the spectacle of a mixed drove of boys, -parents, and what not, the former running a good deal to shiny faces -and Eton collars, the latter stressing the black-satin note rather when -female, and looking as if their coats were too tight, if male. And -presently there was some applause--sporadic, Jeeves has since told me -it was--and I saw Gussie being steered by a bearded bloke in a gown to -a seat in the middle of the platform. - -And I confess that as I beheld him and felt that there but for the -grace of God went Bertram Wooster, a shudder ran through the frame. -It all reminded me so vividly of the time I had addressed that girls’ -school. - -Of course, looking at it dispassionately, you may say that for horror -and peril there is no comparison between an almost human audience -like the one before me and a mob of small girls with pigtails down -their backs, and this, I concede, is true. Nevertheless, the spectacle -was enough to make me feel like a fellow watching a pal going over -Niagara Falls in a barrel, and the thought of what I had escaped caused -everything for a moment to go black and swim before my eyes. - -When I was able to see clearly once more, I perceived that Gussie was -now seated. He had his hands on his knees, with his elbows out at right -angles, like a nigger minstrel of the old school about to ask Mr. Bones -why a chicken crosses the road, and he was staring before him with -a smile so fixed and pebble-beached that I should have thought that -anybody could have guessed that there sat one in whom the old familiar -juice was plashing up against the back of the front teeth. - -In fact, I saw Aunt Dahlia, who, having assisted at so many hunting -dinners in her time, is second to none as a judge of the symptoms, -give a start and gaze long and earnestly. And she was just saying -something to Uncle Tom on her left when the bearded bloke stepped to -the footlights and started making a speech. From the fact that he spoke -as if he had a hot potato in his mouth without getting the raspberry -from the lads in the ringside seats, I deduced that he must be the head -master. - -With his arrival in the spotlight, a sort of perspiring resignation -seemed to settle on the audience. Personally, I snuggled up against the -chandler and let my attention wander. The speech was on the subject -of the doings of the school during the past term, and this part of -a prize-giving is always apt rather to fail to grip the visiting -stranger. I mean, you know how it is. You’re told that J.B. Brewster -has won an Exhibition for Classics at Cat’s, Cambridge, and you feel -that it’s one of those stories where you can’t see how funny it is -unless you really know the fellow. And the same applies to G. Bullett -being awarded the Lady Jane Wix Scholarship at the Birmingham College -of Veterinary Science. - -In fact, I and the corn chandler, who was looking a bit fagged I -thought, as if he had had a hard morning chandling the corn, were -beginning to doze lightly when things suddenly brisked up, bringing -Gussie into the picture for the first time. - -“Today,” said the bearded bloke, “we are all happy to welcome as the -guest of the afternoon Mr. Fitz-Wattle----” - -At the beginning of the address, Gussie had subsided into a sort of -daydream, with his mouth hanging open. About half-way through, faint -signs of life had begun to show. And for the last few minutes he had -been trying to cross one leg over the other and failing and having -another shot and failing again. But only now did he exhibit any real -animation. He sat up with a jerk. - -“Fink-Nottle,” he said, opening his eyes. - -“Fitz-Nottle.” - -“Fink-Nottle.” - -“I should say Fink-Nottle.” - -“Of course you should, you silly ass,” said Gussie genially. “All -right, get on with it.” - -And closing his eyes, he began trying to cross his legs again. - -I could see that this little spot of friction had rattled the bearded -bloke a bit. He stood for a moment fumbling at the fungus with a -hesitating hand. But they make these head masters of tough stuff. The -weakness passed. He came back nicely and carried on. - -“We are all happy, I say, to welcome as the guest of the afternoon Mr. -Fink-Nottle, who has kindly consented to award the prizes. This task, -as you know, is one that should have devolved upon that well-beloved -and vigorous member of our board of governors, the Rev. William Plomer, -and we are all, I am sure, very sorry that illness at the last moment -should have prevented him from being here today. But, if I may borrow a -familiar metaphor from the--if I may employ a homely metaphor familiar -to you all--what we lose on the swings we gain on the roundabouts.” - -He paused, and beamed rather freely, to show that this was comedy. I -could have told the man it was no use. Not a ripple. The corn chandler -leaned against me and muttered “Whoddidesay?” but that was all. - -It’s always a nasty jar to wait for the laugh and find that the gag -hasn’t got across. The bearded bloke was visibly discomposed. At that, -however, I think he would have got by, had he not, at this juncture, -unfortunately stirred Gussie up again. - -“In other words, though deprived of Mr. Plomer, we have with us this -afternoon Mr. Fink-Nottle. I am sure that Mr. Fink-Nottle’s name is one -that needs no introduction to you. It is, I venture to assert, a name -that is familiar to us all.” - -“Not to you,” said Gussie. - -And the next moment I saw what Jeeves had meant when he had described -him as laughing heartily. “Heartily” was absolutely the _mot juste_. It -sounded like a gas explosion. - -“You didn’t seem to know it so dashed well, what, what?” said Gussie. -And, reminded apparently by the word “what” of the word “Wattle,” he -repeated the latter some sixteen times with a rising inflection. - -“Wattle, Wattle, Wattle,” he concluded. “Right-ho. Push on.” - -But the bearded bloke had shot his bolt. He stood there, licked at -last; and, watching him closely, I could see that he was now at the -crossroads. I could spot what he was thinking as clearly as if he had -confided it to my personal ear. He wanted to sit down and call it a -day, I mean, but the thought that gave him pause was that, if he did, -he must then either uncork Gussie or take the Fink-Nottle speech as -read and get straight on to the actual prize-giving. - -It was a dashed tricky thing, of course, to have to decide on the spur -of the moment. I was reading in the paper the other day about those -birds who are trying to split the atom, the nub being that they haven’t -the foggiest as to what will happen if they do. It may be all right. On -the other hand, it may not be all right. And pretty silly a chap would -feel, no doubt, if, having split the atom, he suddenly found the house -going up in smoke and himself torn limb from limb. - -So with the bearded bloke. Whether he was abreast of the inside facts -in Gussie’s case, I don’t know, but it was obvious to him by this time -that he had run into something pretty hot. Trial gallops had shown that -Gussie had his own way of doing things. Those interruptions had been -enough to prove to the perspicacious that here, seated on the platform -at the big binge of the season, was one who, if pushed forward to make -a speech, might let himself go in a rather epoch-making manner. - -On the other hand, chain him up and put a green-baize cloth over him, -and where were you? The proceeding would be over about half an hour too -soon. - -It was, as I say, a difficult problem to have to solve, and, left -to himself, I don’t know what conclusion he would have come to. -Personally, I think he would have played it safe. As it happened, -however, the thing was taken out of his hands, for at this moment, -Gussie, having stretched his arms and yawned a bit, switched on that -pebble-beached smile again and tacked down to the edge of the platform. - -“Speech,” he said affably. - -He then stood with his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, waiting -for the applause to die down. - -It was some time before this happened, for he had got a very fine hand -indeed. I suppose it wasn’t often that the boys of Market Snodsbury -Grammar School came across a man public-spirited enough to call their -head master a silly ass, and they showed their appreciation in no -uncertain manner. Gussie may have been one over the eight, but as far -as the majority of those present were concerned he was sitting on top -of the world. - -“Boys,” said Gussie, “I mean ladies and gentlemen and boys, I do not -detain you long, but I suppose on this occasion to feel compelled to -say a few auspicious words; Ladies--and boys and gentlemen--we have all -listened with interest to the remarks of our friend here who forgot -to shave this morning--I don’t know his name, but then he didn’t know -mine--Fitz-Wattle, I mean, absolutely absurd--which squares things up -a bit--and we are all sorry that the Reverend What-ever-he-was-called -should be dying of adenoids, but after all, here today, gone -tomorrow, and all flesh is as grass, and what not, but that wasn’t -what I wanted to say. What I wanted to say was this--and I say it -confidently--without fear of contradiction--I say, in short, I am -happy to be here on this auspicious occasion and I take much pleasure -in kindly awarding the prizes, consisting of the handsome books you -see laid out on that table. As Shakespeare says, there are sermons in -books, stones in the running brooks, or, rather, the other way about, -and there you have it in a nutshell.” - -It went well, and I wasn’t surprised. I couldn’t quite follow some -of it, but anybody could see that it was real ripe stuff, and I was -amazed that even the course of treatment he had been taking could have -rendered so normally tongue-tied a dumb brick as Gussie capable of it. - -It just shows, what any member of Parliament will tell you, that if -you want real oratory, the preliminary noggin is essential. Unless -pie-eyed, you cannot hope to grip. - -“Gentlemen,” said Gussie, “I mean ladies and gentlemen and, of course, -boys, what a beautiful world this is. A beautiful world, full of -happiness on every side. Let me tell you a little story. Two Irishmen, -Pat and Mike, were walking along Broadway, and one said to the other, -‘Begorrah, the race is not always to the swift,’ and the other replied, -‘Faith and begob, education is a drawing out, not a putting in.’” - -I must say it seemed to me the rottenest story I had ever heard, and I -was surprised that Jeeves should have considered it worth while shoving -into a speech. However, when I taxed him with this later, he said that -Gussie had altered the plot a good deal, and I dare say that accounts -for it. - -At any rate, that was the _conte_ as Gussie told it, and when I say -that it got a very fair laugh, you will understand what a popular -favourite he had become with the multitude. There might be a bearded -bloke or so on the platform and a small section in the second row who -were wishing the speaker would conclude his remarks and resume his -seat, but the audience as a whole was for him solidly. - -There was applause, and a voice cried: “Hear, hear!” - -“Yes,” said Gussie, “it is a beautiful world. The sky is blue, the -birds are singing, there is optimism everywhere. And why not, boys and -ladies and gentlemen? I’m happy, you’re happy, we’re all happy, even -the meanest Irishman that walks along Broadway. Though, as I say, there -were two of them--Pat and Mike, one drawing out, the other putting in. -I should like you boys, taking the time from me, to give three cheers -for this beautiful world. All together now.” - -Presently the dust settled down and the plaster stopped falling from -the ceiling, and he went on. - -“People who say it isn’t a beautiful world don’t know what they are -talking about. Driving here in the car today to award the kind prizes, -I was reluctantly compelled to tick off my host on this very point. Old -Tom Travers. You will see him sitting there in the second row next to -the large lady in beige.” - -He pointed helpfully, and the hundred or so Market Snods-buryians who -craned their necks in the direction indicated were able to observe -Uncle Tom blushing prettily. - -“I ticked him off properly, the poor fish. He expressed the opinion -that the world was in a deplorable state. I said, ‘Don’t talk rot, old -Tom Travers.’ ‘I am not accustomed to talk rot,’ he said. ‘Then, for a -beginner,’ I said, ‘you do it dashed well.’ And I think you will admit, -boys and ladies and gentlemen, that that was telling him.” - -The audience seemed to agree with him. The point went big. The voice -that had said, “Hear, hear” said “Hear, hear” again, and my corn -chandler hammered the floor vigorously with a large-size walking stick. - -“Well, boys,” resumed Gussie, having shot his cuffs and smirked -horribly, “this is the end of the summer term, and many of you, no -doubt, are leaving the school. And I don’t blame you, because there’s a -froust in here you could cut with a knife. You are going out into the -great world. Soon many of you will be walking along Broadway. And what -I want to impress upon you is that, however much you may suffer from -adenoids, you must all use every effort to prevent yourselves becoming -pessimists and talking rot like old Tom Travers. There in the second -row. The fellow with a face rather like a walnut.” - -He paused to allow those wishing to do so to refresh themselves with -another look at Uncle Tom, and I found myself musing in some little -perplexity. Long association with the members of the Drones has put -me pretty well in touch with the various ways in which an overdose of -the blushful Hippocrene can take the individual, but I had never seen -anyone react quite as Gussie was doing. - -There was a snap about his work which I had never witnessed before, -even in Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps on New Year’s Eve. - -Jeeves, when I discussed the matter with him later, said it was -something to do with inhibitions, if I caught the word correctly, -and the suppression of, I think he said, the ego. What he meant, I -gathered, was that, owing to the fact that Gussie had just completed -a five years’ stretch of blameless seclusion among the newts, all the -goofiness which ought to have been spread out thin over those five -years and had been bottled up during that period came to the surface on -this occasion in a lump--or, if you prefer to put it that way, like a -tidal wave. - -There may be something in this. Jeeves generally knows. - -Anyway, be that as it may, I was dashed glad I had had the shrewdness -to keep out of that second row. It might be unworthy of the prestige of -a Wooster to squash in among the proletariat in the standing-room-only -section, but at least, I felt, I was out of the danger zone. So -thoroughly had Gussie got it up his nose by now that it seemed to me -that had he sighted me he might have become personal about even an old -school friend. - -“If there’s one thing in the world I can’t stand,” proceeded Gussie, -“it’s a pessimist. Be optimists, boys. You all know the difference -between an optimist and a pessimist. An optimist is a man who--well, -take the case of two Irishmen walking along Broadway. One is an -optimist and one is a pessimist, just as one’s name is Pat and the -other’s Mike.... Why, hullo, Bertie; I didn’t know you were here.” - -Too late, I endeavoured to go to earth behind the chandler, only to -discover that there was no chandler there. Some appointment, suddenly -remembered--possibly a promise to his wife that he would be home to -tea--had caused him to ooze away while my attention was elsewhere, -leaving me right out in the open. - -Between me and Gussie, who was now pointing in an offensive manner, -there was nothing but a sea of interested faces looking up at me. - -“Now, there,” boomed Gussie, continuing to point, “is an instance of -what I mean. Boys and ladies and gentlemen, take a good look at that -object standing up there at the back--morning coat, trousers as worn, -quiet grey tie, and carnation in buttonhole--you can’t miss him. Bertie -Wooster, that is, and as foul a pessimist as ever bit a tiger. I tell -you I despise that man. And why do I despise him? Because, boys and -ladies and gentlemen, he is a pessimist. His attitude is defeatist. -When I told him I was going to address you this afternoon, he tried to -dissuade me. And do you know why he tried to dissuade me? Because he -said my trousers would split up the back.” - -The cheers that greeted this were the loudest yet. Anything about -splitting trousers went straight to the simple hearts of the young -scholars of Market Snodsbury Grammar School. Two in the row in front -of me turned purple, and a small lad with freckles seated beside them -asked me for my autograph. - -“Let me tell you a story about Bertie Wooster.” - -A Wooster can stand a good deal, but he cannot stand having his name -bandied in a public place. Picking my feet up softly, I was in the very -process of executing a quiet sneak for the door, when I perceived that -the bearded bloke had at last decided to apply the closure. - -Why he hadn’t done so before is beyond me. Spell-bound, I take it. -And, of course, when a chap is going like a breeze with the public, -as Gussie had been, it’s not so dashed easy to chip in. However, the -prospect of hearing another of Gussie’s anecdotes seemed to have done -the trick. Rising rather as I had risen from my bench at the beginning -of that painful scene with Tuppy in the twilight, he made a leap for -the table, snatched up a book and came bearing down on the speaker. - -He touched Gussie on the arm, and Gussie, turning sharply and seeing -a large bloke with a beard apparently about to bean him with a book, -sprang back in an attitude of self-defence. - -“Perhaps, as time is getting on, Mr. Fink-Nottle, we had better----” - -“Oh, ah,” said Gussie, getting the trend. He relaxed. “The prizes, eh? -Of course, yes. Right-ho. Yes, might as well be shoving along with it. -What’s this one?” - -“Spelling and dictation--P.K. Purvis,” announced the bearded bloke. - -“Spelling and dictation--P.K. Purvis,” echoed Gussie, as if he were -calling coals. “Forward, P.K. Purvis.” - -Now that the whistle had been blown on his speech, it seemed to me -that there was no longer any need for the strategic retreat which I -had been planning. I had no wish to tear myself away unless I had -to. I mean, I had told Jeeves that this binge would be fraught with -interest, and it was fraught with interest. There was a fascination -about Gussie’s methods which gripped and made one reluctant to pass the -thing up provided personal innuendoes were steered clear of. I decided, -accordingly, to remain, and presently there was a musical squeaking and -P.K. Purvis climbed the platform. - -The spelling-and-dictation champ was about three foot six in his -squeaking shoes, with a pink face and sandy hair. Gussie patted his -hair. He seemed to have taken an immediate fancy to the lad. - -“You P.K. Purvis?” - -“Sir, yes, sir.” - -“It’s a beautiful world, P.K. Purvis.” - -“Sir, yes, sir.” - -“Ah, you’ve noticed it, have you? Good. You married, by any chance?” - -“Sir, no, sir.” - -“Get married, P.K. Purvis,” said Gussie earnestly. “It’s the only life -... Well, here’s your book. Looks rather bilge to me from a glance at -the title page, but, such as it is, here you are.” - -P.K. Purvis squeaked off amidst sporadic applause, but one could not -fail to note that the sporadic was followed by a rather strained -silence. It was evident that Gussie was striking something of a new -note in Market Snodsbury scholastic circles. Looks were exchanged -between parent and parent. The bearded bloke had the air of one who has -drained the bitter cup. As for Aunt Dahlia, her demeanour now told only -too clearly that her last doubts had been resolved and her verdict was -in. I saw her whisper to the Bassett, who sat on her right, and the -Bassett nodded sadly and looked like a fairy about to shed a tear and -add another star to the Milky Way. - -Gussie, after the departure of P.K. Purvis, had fallen into a sort of -daydream and was standing with his mouth open and his hands in his -pockets. Becoming abruptly aware that a fat kid in knickerbockers was -at his elbow, he started violently. - -“Hullo!” he said, visibly shaken. “Who are you?” - -“This,” said the bearded bloke, “is R.V. Smethurst.” - -“What’s he doing here?” asked Gussie suspiciously. - -“You are presenting him with the drawing prize, Mr. Fink-Nottle.” - -This apparently struck Gussie as a reasonable explanation. His face -cleared. - -“That’s right, too,” he said.... “Well, here it is, cocky. You off?” he -said, as the kid prepared to withdraw. - -“Sir, yes, sir.” - -“Wait, R.V. Smethurst. Not so fast. Before you go, there is a question -I wish to ask you.” - -But the beard bloke’s aim now seemed to be to rush the ceremonies a -bit. He hustled R.V. Smethurst off stage rather like a chucker-out in -a pub regretfully ejecting an old and respected customer, and starting -paging G.G. Simmons. A moment later the latter was up and coming, and -conceive my emotion when it was announced that the subject on which he -had clicked was Scripture knowledge. One of us, I mean to say. - -G.G. Simmons was an unpleasant, perky-looking stripling, mostly front -teeth and spectacles, but I gave him a big hand. We Scripture-knowledge -sharks stick together. - -Gussie, I was sorry to see, didn’t like him. There was in his manner, -as he regarded G.G. Simmons, none of the chumminess which had marked it -during his interview with P.K. Purvis or, in a somewhat lesser degree, -with R.V. Smethurst. He was cold and distant. - -“Well, G.G. Simmons.” - -“Sir, yes, sir.” - -“What do you mean--sir, yes, sir? Dashed silly thing to say. So you’ve -won the Scripture-knowledge prize, have you?” - -“Sir, yes, sir.” - -“Yes,” said Gussie, “you look just the sort of little tick who would. -And yet,” he said, pausing and eyeing the child keenly, “how are we to -know that this has all been open and above board? Let me test you, G.G. -Simmons. What was What’s-His-Name--the chap who begat Thingummy? Can -you answer me that, Simmons?” - -“Sir, no, sir.” - -Gussie turned to the bearded bloke. - -“Fishy,” he said. “Very fishy. This boy appears to be totally lacking -in Scripture knowledge.” - -The bearded bloke passed a hand across his forehead. - -“I can assure you, Mr. Fink-Nottle, that every care was taken to ensure -a correct marking and that Simmons outdistanced his competitors by a -wide margin.” - -“Well, if you say so,” said Gussie doubtfully. “All right, G.G. -Simmons, take your prize.” - -“Sir, thank you, sir.” - -“But let me tell you that there’s nothing to stick on side about in -winning a prize for Scripture knowledge. Bertie Wooster----” - -I don’t know when I’ve had a nastier shock. I had been going on the -assumption that, now that they had stopped him making his speech, -Gussie’s fangs had been drawn, as you might say. To duck my head down -and resume my edging toward the door was with me the work of a moment. - -“Bertie Wooster won the Scripture-knowledge prize at a kids’ school we -were at together, and you know what he’s like. But, of course, Bertie -frankly cheated. He succeeded in scrounging that Scripture-knowledge -trophy over the heads of better men by means of some of the rawest and -most brazen swindling methods ever witnessed even at a school where -such things were common. If that man’s pockets, as he entered the -examination-room, were not stuffed to bursting-point with lists of the -kings of Judah----” - -I heard no more. A moment later I was out in God’s air, fumbling with a -fevered foot at the self-starter of the old car. - -The engine raced. The clutch slid into position. I tooted and drove off. - -My ganglions were still vibrating as I ran the car into the stables of -Brinkley Court, and it was a much shaken Bertram who tottered up to his -room to change into something loose. Having donned flannels, I lay down -on the bed for a bit, and I suppose I must have dozed off, for the next -thing I remember is finding Jeeves at my side. - -I sat up. “My tea, Jeeves?” - -“No, sir. It is nearly dinner-time.” - -The mists cleared away. - -“I must have been asleep.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Nature taking its toll of the exhausted frame.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And enough to make it.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And now it’s nearly dinner-time, you say? All right. I am in no mood -for dinner, but I suppose you had better lay out the clothes.” - -“It will not be necessary, sir. The company will not be dressing -tonight. A cold collation has been set out in the dining-room.” - -“Why’s that?” - -“It was Mrs. Travers’s wish that this should be done in order to -minimize the work for the staff, who are attending a dance at Sir -Percival Stretchley-Budd’s residence tonight.” - -“Of course, yes. I remember. My Cousin Angela told me. Tonight’s the -night, what? You going, Jeeves?” - -“No, sir. I am not very fond of this form of entertainment in the rural -districts, sir.” - -“I know what you mean. These country binges are all the same. A piano, -one fiddle, and a floor like sandpaper. Is Anatole going? Angela hinted -not.” - -“Miss Angela was correct, sir. Monsieur Anatole is in bed.” - -“Temperamental blighters, these Frenchmen.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -There was a pause. - -“Well, Jeeves,” I said, “it was certainly one of those afternoons, -what?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“I cannot recall one more packed with incident. And I left before the -finish.” - -“Yes, sir. I observed your departure.” - -“You couldn’t blame me for withdrawing.” - -“No, sir. Mr. Fink-Nottle had undoubtedly become embarrassingly -personal.” - -“Was there much more of it after I went?” - -“No, sir. The proceedings terminated very shortly. Mr. Fink-Nottle’s -remarks with reference to Master G.G. Simmons brought about an early -closure.” - -“But he had finished his remarks about G.G. Simmons.” - -“Only temporarily, sir. He resumed them immediately after your -departure. If you recollect, sir, he had already proclaimed himself -suspicious of Master Simmons’s bona fides, and he now proceeded to -deliver a violent verbal attack upon the young gentleman, asserting -that it was impossible for him to have won the Scripture-knowledge -prize without systematic cheating on an impressive scale. He went so -far as to suggest that Master Simmons was well known to the police.” - -“Golly, Jeeves!” - -“Yes, sir. The words did create a considerable sensation. The reaction -of those present to this accusation I should describe as mixed. The -young students appeared pleased and applauded vigorously, but Master -Simmons’s mother rose from her seat and addressed Mr. Fink-Nottle in -terms of strong protest.” - -“Did Gussie seem taken aback? Did he recede from his position?” - -“No, sir. He said that he could see it all now, and hinted at a guilty -liaison between Master Simmons’s mother and the head master, accusing -the latter of having cooked the marks, as his expression was, in order -to gain favour with the former.” - -“You don’t mean that?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Egad, Jeeves! And then----” - -“They sang the national anthem, sir.” - -“Surely not?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“At a moment like that?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Well, you were there and you know, of course, but I should have -thought the last thing Gussie and this woman would have done in the -circs. would have been to start singing duets.” - -“You misunderstand me, sir. It was the entire company who sang. The -head master turned to the organist and said something to him in a low -tone. Upon which the latter began to play the national anthem, and the -proceedings terminated.” - -“I see. About time, too.” - -“Yes, sir. Mrs. Simmons’s attitude had become unquestionably menacing.” - -I pondered. What I had heard was, of course, of a nature to excite -pity and terror, not to mention alarm and despondency, and it would -be paltering with the truth to say that I was pleased about it. On -the other hand, it was all over now, and it seemed to me that the -thing to do was not to mourn over the past but to fix the mind on the -bright future. I mean to say, Gussie might have lowered the existing -Worcestershire record for goofiness and definitely forfeited all chance -of becoming Market Snodsbury’s favourite son, but you couldn’t get away -from the fact that he had proposed to Madeline Bassett, and you had to -admit that she had accepted him. - -I put this to Jeeves. - -“A frightful exhibition,” I said, “and one which will very possibly -ring down history’s pages. But we must not forget, Jeeves, that Gussie, -though now doubtless looked upon in the neighbourhood as the world’s -worst freak, is all right otherwise.” - -“No, sir.” - -I did not get quite this. - -“When you say ‘No, sir,’ do you mean ‘Yes, sir’?” - -“No, sir. I mean ‘No, sir.’” - -“He is not all right otherwise?” - -“No, sir.” - -“But he’s betrothed.” - -“No longer, sir. Miss Bassett has severed the engagement.” - -“You don’t mean that?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -I wonder if you have noticed a rather peculiar thing about this -chronicle. I allude to the fact that at one time or another practically -everybody playing a part in it has had occasion to bury his or her -face in his or her hands. I have participated in some pretty glutinous -affairs in my time, but I think that never before or since have I been -mixed up with such a solid body of brow clutchers. - -Uncle Tom did it, if you remember. So did Gussie. So did Tuppy. So, -probably, though I have no data, did Anatole, and I wouldn’t put it -past the Bassett. And Aunt Dahlia, I have no doubt, would have done it, -too, but for the risk of disarranging the carefully fixed coiffure. - -Well, what I am trying to say is that at this juncture I did it myself. -Up went the hands and down went the head, and in another jiffy I was -clutching as energetically as the best of them. - -And it was while I was still massaging the coconut and wondering what -the next move was that something barged up against the door like the -delivery of a ton of coals. - -“I think this may very possibly be Mr. Fink-Nottle himself, sir,” said -Jeeves. - -His intuition, however, had led him astray. It was not Gussie but -Tuppy. He came in and stood breathing asthmatically. It was plain that -he was deeply stirred. - - - - --18- - - -I eyed him narrowly. I didn’t like his looks. Mark you, I don’t say I -ever had, much, because Nature, when planning this sterling fellow, -shoved in a lot more lower jaw than was absolutely necessary and -made the eyes a bit too keen and piercing for one who was neither an -Empire builder nor a traffic policeman. But on the present occasion, -in addition to offending the aesthetic sense, this Glossop seemed to -me to be wearing a distinct air of menace, and I found myself wishing -that Jeeves wasn’t always so dashed tactful. I mean, it’s all very -well to remove yourself like an eel sliding into mud when the employer -has a visitor, but there are moments--and it looked to me as if this -was going to be one of them--when the truer tact is to stick round and -stand ready to lend a hand in the free-for-all. - -For Jeeves was no longer with us. I hadn’t seen him go, and I hadn’t -heard him go, but he had gone. As far as the eye could reach, one -noted nobody but Tuppy. And in Tuppy’s demeanour, as I say, there was -a certain something that tended to disquiet. He looked to me very much -like a man who had come to reopen that matter of my tickling Angela’s -ankles. - -However, his opening remark told me that I had been alarming myself -unduly. It was of a pacific nature, and came as a great relief. - -“Bertie,” he said, “I owe you an apology. I have come to make it.” - -My relief on hearing these words, containing as they did no reference -of any sort to tickled ankles, was, as I say, great. But I don’t -think it was any greater than my surprise. Months had passed since -that painful episode at the Drones, and until now he hadn’t given a -sign of remorse and contrition. Indeed, word had reached me through -private sources that he frequently told the story at dinners and other -gatherings and, when doing so, laughed his silly head off. - -I found it hard to understand, accordingly, what could have caused him -to abase himself at this later date. Presumably he had been given the -elbow by his better self, but why? - -Still, there it was. - -“My dear chap,” I said, gentlemanly to the gills, “don’t mention it.” - -“What’s the sense of saying, ‘Don’t mention it’? I have mentioned it.” - -“I mean, don’t mention it any more. Don’t give the matter another -thought. We all of us forget ourselves sometimes and do things which, -in our calmer moments, we regret. No doubt you were a bit tight at the -time.” - -“What the devil do you think you’re talking about?” - -I didn’t like his tone. Brusque. - -“Correct me if I am wrong,” I said, with a certain stiffness, “but I -assumed that you were apologizing for your foul conduct in looping back -the last ring that night in the Drones, causing me to plunge into the -swimming b. in the full soup and fish.” - -“Ass! Not that, at all.” - -“Then what?” - -“This Bassett business.” - -“What Bassett business?” - -“Bertie,” said Tuppy, “when you told me last night that you were in -love with Madeline Bassett, I gave you the impression that I believed -you, but I didn’t. The thing seemed too incredible. However, since -then I have made inquiries, and the facts appear to square with your -statement. I have now come to apologize for doubting you.” - -“Made inquiries?” - -“I asked her if you had proposed to her, and she said, yes, you had.” - -“Tuppy! You didn’t?” - -“I did.” - -“Have you no delicacy, no proper feeling?” - -“No.” - -“Oh? Well, right-ho, of course, but I think you ought to have.” - -“Delicacy be dashed. I wanted to be certain that it was not you who -stole Angela from me. I now know it wasn’t.” - -So long as he knew that, I didn’t so much mind him having no delicacy. - -“Ah,” I said. “Well, that’s fine. Hold that thought.” - -“I have found out who it was.” - -“What?” - -He stood brooding for a moment. His eyes were smouldering with a dull -fire. His jaw stuck out like the back of Jeeves’s head. - -“Bertie,” he said, “do you remember what I swore I would do to the chap -who stole Angela from me?” - -“As nearly as I recall, you planned to pull him inside out----” - -“--and make him swallow himself. Correct. The programme still holds -good.” - -“But, Tuppy, I keep assuring you, as a competent eyewitness, that -nobody snitched Angela from you during that Cannes trip.” - -“No. But they did after she got back.” - -“What?” - -“Don’t keep saying, ‘What?’ You heard.” - -“But she hasn’t seen anybody since she got back.” - -“Oh, no? How about that newt bloke?” - -“Gussie?” - -“Precisely. The serpent Fink-Nottle.” - -This seemed to me absolute gibbering. - -“But Gussie loves the Bassett.” - -“You can’t all love this blighted Bassett. What astonishes me is that -anyone can do it. He loves Angela, I tell you. And she loves him.” - -“But Angela handed you your hat before Gussie ever got here.” - -“No, she didn’t. Couple of hours after.” - -“He couldn’t have fallen in love with her in a couple of hours.” - -“Why not? I fell in love with her in a couple of minutes. I worshipped -her immediately we met, the popeyed little excrescence.” - -“But, dash it----” - -“Don’t argue, Bertie. The facts are all docketed. She loves this -newt-nuzzling blister.” - -“Quite absurd, laddie--quite absurd.” - -“Oh?” He ground a heel into the carpet--a thing I’ve often read about, -but had never seen done before. “Then perhaps you will explain how it -is that she happens to come to be engaged to him?” - -You could have knocked me down with a f. - -“Engaged to him?” - -“She told me herself.” - -“She was kidding you.” - -“She was not kidding me. Shortly after the conclusion of this -afternoon’s binge at Market Snodsbury Grammar School he asked her to -marry him, and she appears to have right-hoed without a murmur.” - -“There must be some mistake.” - -“There was. The snake Fink-Nottle made it, and by now I bet he realizes -it. I’ve been chasing him since 5.30.” - -“Chasing him?” - -“All over the place. I want to pull his head off.” - -“I see. Quite.” - -“You haven’t seen him, by any chance?” - -“No.” - -“Well, if you do, say goodbye to him quickly and put in your order for -lilies.... Oh, Jeeves.” - -“Sir?” - -I hadn’t heard the door open, but the man was on the spot once more. -My private belief, as I think I have mentioned before, is that Jeeves -doesn’t have to open doors. He’s like one of those birds in India who -bung their astral bodies about--the chaps, I mean, who having gone into -thin air in Bombay, reassemble the parts and appear two minutes later -in Calcutta. Only some such theory will account for the fact that he’s -not there one moment and is there the next. He just seems to float from -Spot A to Spot B like some form of gas. - -“Have you seen Mr. Fink-Nottle, Jeeves?” - -“No, sir.” - -“I’m going to murder him.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -Tuppy withdrew, banging the door behind him, and I put Jeeves abreast. - -“Jeeves,” I said, “do you know what? Mr. Fink-Nottle is engaged to my -Cousin Angela.” - -“Indeed, sir?” - -“Well, how about it? Do you grasp the psychology? Does it make sense? -Only a few hours ago he was engaged to Miss Bassett.” - -“Gentlemen who have been discarded by one young lady are often apt to -attach themselves without delay to another, sir. It is what is known as -a gesture.” - -I began to grasp. - -“I see what you mean. Defiant stuff.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“A sort of ‘Oh, right-ho, please yourself, but if you don’t want me, -there are plenty who do.’” - -“Precisely, sir. My Cousin George----” - -“Never mind about your Cousin George, Jeeves.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“Keep him for the long winter evenings, what?” - -“Just as you wish, sir.” - -“And, anyway, I bet your Cousin George wasn’t a shrinking, -non-goose-bo-ing jellyfish like Gussie. That is what astounds me, -Jeeves--that it should be Gussie who has been putting in all this heavy -gesture-making stuff.” - -“You must remember, sir, that Mr. Fink-Nottle is in a somewhat inflamed -cerebral condition.” - -“That’s true. A bit above par at the moment, as it were?” - -“Exactly, sir.” - -“Well, I’ll tell you one thing--he’ll be in a jolly sight more inflamed -cerebral condition if Tuppy gets hold of him.... What’s the time?” - -“Just on eight o’clock, sir.” - -“Then Tuppy has been chasing him for two hours and a half. We must save -the unfortunate blighter, Jeeves.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“A human life is a human life, what?” - -“Exceedingly true, sir.” - -“The first thing, then, is to find him. After that we can discuss plans -and schemes. Go forth, Jeeves, and scour the neighbourhood.” - -“It will not be necessary, sir. If you will glance behind you, you will -see Mr. Fink-Nottle coming out from beneath your bed.” - -And, by Jove, he was absolutely right. - -There was Gussie, emerging as stated. He was covered with fluff and -looked like a tortoise popping forth for a bit of a breather. - -“Gussie!” I said. - -“Jeeves,” said Gussie. - -“Sir?” said Jeeves. - -“Is that door locked, Jeeves?” - -“No, sir, but I will attend to the matter immediately.” - -Gussie sat down on the bed, and I thought for a moment that he was -going to be in the mode by burying his face in his hands. However, he -merely brushed a dead spider from his brow. - -“Have you locked the door, Jeeves?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Because you can never tell that that ghastly Glossop may not take it -into his head to come----” - -The word “back” froze on his lips. He hadn’t got any further than a -_b_-ish sound, when the handle of the door began to twist and rattle. -He sprang from the bed, and for an instant stood looking exactly -like a picture my Aunt Agatha has in her dining-room--The Stag at -Bay--Landseer. Then he made a dive for the cupboard and was inside it -before one really got on to it that he had started leaping. I have seen -fellows late for the 9.15 move less nippily. - -I shot a glance at Jeeves. He allowed his right eyebrow to flicker -slightly, which is as near as he ever gets to a display of the emotions. - -“Hullo?” I yipped. - -“Let me in, blast you!” responded Tuppy’s voice from without. “Who -locked this door?” - -I consulted Jeeves once more in the language of the eyebrow. He raised -one of his. I raised one of mine. He raised his other. I raised my -other. Then we both raised both. Finally, there seeming no other policy -to pursue, I flung wide the gates and Tuppy came shooting in. - -“Now what?” I said, as nonchalantly as I could manage. - -“Why was the door locked?” demanded Tuppy. - -I was in pretty good eyebrow-raising form by now, so I gave him a touch -of it. - -“Is one to have no privacy, Glossop?” I said coldly. “I instructed -Jeeves to lock the door because I was about to disrobe.” - -“A likely story!” said Tuppy, and I’m not sure he didn’t add -“Forsooth!” “You needn’t try to make me believe that you’re afraid -people are going to run excursion trains to see you in your underwear. -You locked that door because you’ve got the snake Fink-Nottle concealed -in here. I suspected it the moment I’d left, and I decided to come -back and investigate. I’m going to search this room from end to end. I -believe he’s in that cupboard.... What’s in this cupboard?” - -“Just clothes,” I said, having another stab at the nonchalant, though -extremely dubious as to whether it would come off. “The usual wardrobe -of the English gentleman paying a country-house visit.” - -“You’re lying!” - -Well, I wouldn’t have been if he had only waited a minute before -speaking, because the words were hardly out of his mouth before Gussie -was out of the cupboard. I have commented on the speed with which he -had gone in. It was as nothing to the speed with which he emerged. -There was a sort of whir and blur, and he was no longer with us. - -I think Tuppy was surprised. In fact, I’m sure he was. Despite the -confidence with which he had stated his view that the cupboard -contained Fink-Nottles, it plainly disconcerted him to have the chap -fizzing out at him like this. He gargled sharply, and jumped back -about five feet. The next moment, however, he had recovered his poise -and was galloping down the corridor in pursuit. It only needed Aunt -Dahlia after them, shouting “Yoicks!” or whatever is customary on these -occasions, to complete the resemblance to a brisk run with the Quorn. - -I sank into a handy chair. I am not a man whom it is easy to -discourage, but it seemed to me that things had at last begun to get -too complex for Bertram. - -“Jeeves,” I said, “all this is a bit thick.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“The head rather swims.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“I think you had better leave me, Jeeves. I shall need to devote the -very closest thought to the situation which has arisen.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -The door closed. I lit a cigarette and began to ponder. - - - - --19- - - -Most chaps in my position, I imagine, would have pondered all the rest -of the evening without getting a bite, but we Woosters have an uncanny -knack of going straight to the heart of things, and I don’t suppose it -was much more than ten minutes after I had started pondering before I -saw what had to be done. - -What was needed to straighten matters out, I perceived, was a -heart-to-heart talk with Angela. She had caused all the trouble by her -mutton-headed behaviour in saying “Yes” instead of “No” when Gussie, in -the grip of mixed drinks and cerebral excitement, had suggested teaming -up. She must obviously be properly ticked off and made to return him to -store. A quarter of an hour later, I had tracked her down to the -summer-house in which she was taking a cooler and was seating myself by -her side. - -“Angela,” I said, and if my voice was stern, well, whose wouldn’t have -been, “this is all perfect drivel.” - -She seemed to come out of a reverie. She looked at me inquiringly. - -“I’m sorry, Bertie, I didn’t hear. What were you talking drivel about?” - -“I was not talking drivel.” - -“Oh, sorry, I thought you said you were.” - -“Is it likely that I would come out here in order to talk drivel?” - -“Very likely.” - -I thought it best to haul off and approach the matter from another -angle. - -“I’ve just been seeing Tuppy.” - -“Oh?” - -“And Gussie Fink-Nottle.” - -“Oh, yes?” - -“It appears that you have gone and got engaged to the latter.” - -“Quite right.” - -“Well, that’s what I meant when I said it was all perfect drivel. You -can’t possibly love a chap like Gussie.” - -“Why not?” - -“You simply can’t.” - -Well, I mean to say, of course she couldn’t. Nobody could love a freak -like Gussie except a similar freak like the Bassett. The shot wasn’t -on the board. A splendid chap, of course, in many ways--courteous, -amiable, and just the fellow to tell you what to do till the doctor -came, if you had a sick newt on your hands--but quite obviously not -of Mendelssohn’s March timber. I have no doubt that you could have -flung bricks by the hour in England’s most densely populated districts -without endangering the safety of a single girl capable of becoming -Mrs. Augustus Fink-Nottle without an anaesthetic. - -I put this to her, and she was forced to admit the justice of it. - -“All right, then. Perhaps I don’t.” - -“Then what,” I said keenly, “did you want to go and get engaged to him -for, you unreasonable young fathead?” - -“I thought it would be fun.” - -“Fun!” - -“And so it has been. I’ve had a lot of fun out of it. You should have -seen Tuppy’s face when I told him.” - -A sudden bright light shone upon me. - -“Ha! A gesture!” - -“What?” - -“You got engaged to Gussie just to score off Tuppy?” - -“I did.” - -“Well, then, that was what I was saying. It was a gesture.” - -“Yes, I suppose you could call it that.” - -“And I’ll tell you something else I’ll call it--viz. a dashed low -trick. I’m surprised at you, young Angela.” - -“I don’t see why.” - -I curled the lip about half an inch. “Being a female, you wouldn’t. You -gentler sexes are like that. You pull off the rawest stuff without a -pang. You pride yourselves on it. Look at Jael, the wife of Heber.” - -“Where did you ever hear of Jael, the wife of Heber?” - -“Possibly you are not aware that I once won a Scripture-knowledge prize -at school?” - -“Oh, yes. I remember Augustus mentioning it in his speech.” - -“Quite,” I said, a little hurriedly. I had no wish to be reminded of -Augustus’s speech. “Well, as I say, look at Jael, the wife of Heber. -Dug spikes into the guest’s coconut while he was asleep, and then went -swanking about the place like a Girl Guide. No wonder they say, ‘Oh, -woman, woman!’” - -“Who?” - -“The chaps who do. Coo, what a sex! But you aren’t proposing to keep -this up, of course?” - -“Keep what up?” - -“This rot of being engaged to Gussie.” - -“I certainly am.” - -“Just to make Tuppy look silly.” - -“Do you think he looks silly?” - -“I do.” - -“So he ought to.” - -I began to get the idea that I wasn’t making real headway. I remember -when I won that Scripture-knowledge prize, having to go into the facts -about Balaam’s ass. I can’t quite recall what they were, but I still -retain a sort of general impression of something digging its feet in -and putting its ears back and refusing to co-operate; and it seemed to -me that this was what Angela was doing now. She and Balaam’s ass were, -so to speak, sisters under the skin. There’s a word beginning with -r----“re” something----“recal” something--No, it’s gone. But what I am -driving at is that is what this Angela was showing herself. - -“Silly young geezer,” I said. - -She pinkened. - -“I’m not a silly young geezer.” - -“You are a silly young geezer. And, what’s more, you know it.” - -“I don’t know anything of the kind.” - -“Here you are, wrecking Tuppy’s life, wrecking Gussie’s life, all for -the sake of a cheap score.” - -“Well, it’s no business of yours.” - -I sat on this promptly: - -“No business of mine when I see two lives I used to go to school with -wrecked? Ha! Besides, you know you’re potty about Tuppy.” - -“I’m not!” - -“Is that so? If I had a quid for every time I’ve seen you gaze at him -with the lovelight in your eyes----” - -She gazed at me, but without the lovelight. - -“Oh, for goodness sake, go away and boil your head, Bertie!” - -I drew myself up. - -“That,” I replied, with dignity, “is just what I am going to go away -and boil. At least, I mean, I shall now leave you. I have said my say.” - -“Good.” - -“But permit me to add----” - -“I won’t.” - -“Very good,” I said coldly. “In that case, tinkerty tonk.” - -And I meant it to sting. - -“Moody” and “discouraged” were about the two adjectives you would have -selected to describe me as I left the summer-house. It would be idle to -deny that I had expected better results from this little chat. - -I was surprised at Angela. Odd how you never realize that every girl -is at heart a vicious specimen until something goes wrong with her -love affair. This cousin and I had been meeting freely since the -days when I wore sailor suits and she hadn’t any front teeth, yet -only now was I beginning to get on to her hidden depths. A simple, -jolly, kindly young pimple she had always struck me as--the sort you -could more or less rely on not to hurt a fly. But here she was now -laughing heartlessly--at least, I seemed to remember hearing her laugh -heartlessly--like something cold and callous out of a sophisticated -talkie, and fairly spitting on her hands in her determination to bring -Tuppy’s grey hairs in sorrow to the grave. - -I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again--girls are rummy. Old Pop -Kipling never said a truer word than when he made that crack about the -f. of the s. being more d. than the m. - -It seemed to me in the circs. that there was but one thing to do--that -is head for the dining-room and take a slash at the cold collation of -which Jeeves had spoken. I felt in urgent need of sustenance, for the -recent interview had pulled me down a bit. There is no gainsaying the -fact that this naked-emotion stuff reduces a chap’s vitality and puts -him in the vein for a good whack at the beef and ham. - -To the dining-room, accordingly, I repaired, and had barely crossed the -threshold when I perceived Aunt Dahlia at the sideboard, tucking into -salmon mayonnaise. - -The spectacle drew from me a quick “Oh, ah,” for I was somewhat -embarrassed. The last time this relative and I had enjoyed a -_tête-à-tête_, it will be remembered, she had sketched out plans for -drowning me in the kitchen-garden pond, and I was not quite sure what -my present standing with her was. - -I was relieved to find her in genial mood. Nothing could have exceeded -the cordiality with which she waved her fork. - -“Hallo, Bertie, you old ass,” was her very matey greeting. “I thought -I shouldn’t find you far away from the food. Try some of this salmon. -Excellent.” - -“Anatole’s?” I queried. - -“No. He’s still in bed. But the kitchen maid has struck an inspired -streak. It suddenly seems to have come home to her that she isn’t -catering for a covey of buzzards in the Sahara Desert, and she has put -out something quite fit for human consumption. There is good in the -girl, after all, and I hope she enjoys herself at the dance.” - -I ladled out a portion of salmon, and we fell into pleasant -conversation, chatting of this servants’ ball at the Stretchley-Budds -and speculating idly, I recall, as to what Seppings, the butler, would -look like, doing the rumba. - -It was not till I had cleaned up the first platter and was embarking -on a second that the subject of Gussie came up. Considering what had -passed at Market Snodsbury that afternoon, it was one which I had been -expecting her to touch on earlier. When she did touch on it, I could -see that she had not yet been informed of Angela’s engagement. - -“I say, Bertie,” she said, meditatively chewing fruit salad. “This -Spink-Bottle.” - -“Nottle.” - -“Bottle,” insisted the aunt firmly. “After that exhibition of his this -afternoon, Bottle, and nothing but Bottle, is how I shall always think -of him. However, what I was going to say was that, if you see him, I -wish you would tell him that he has made an old woman very, very happy. -Except for the time when the curate tripped over a loose shoelace -and fell down the pulpit steps, I don’t think I have ever had a more -wonderful moment than when good old Bottle suddenly started ticking Tom -off from the platform. In fact, I thought his whole performance in the -most perfect taste.” - -I could not but demur. - -“Those references to myself----” - -“Those were what I liked next best. I thought they were fine. Is it -true that you cheated when you won that Scripture-knowledge prize?” - -“Certainly not. My victory was the outcome of the most strenuous and -unremitting efforts.” - -“And how about this pessimism we hear of? Are you a pessimist, Bertie?” - -I could have told her that what was occurring in this house was rapidly -making me one, but I said no, I wasn’t. - -“That’s right. Never be a pessimist. Everything is for the best in this -best of all possible worlds. It’s a long lane that has no turning. It’s -always darkest before the dawn. Have patience and all will come right. -The sun will shine, although the day’s a grey one.... Try some of this -salad.” - -I followed her advice, but even as I plied the spoon my thoughts were -elsewhere. I was perplexed. It may have been the fact that I had -recently been hobnobbing with so many bowed-down hearts that made this -cheeriness of hers seem so bizarre, but bizarre was certainly what I -found it. - -“I thought you might have been a trifle peeved,” I said. - -“Peeved?” - -“By Gussie’s manoeuvres on the platform this afternoon. I confess that -I had rather expected the tapping foot and the drawn brow.” - -“Nonsense. What was there to be peeved about? I took the whole thing as -a great compliment, proud to feel that any drink from my cellars could -have produced such a majestic jag. It restores one’s faith in post-war -whisky. Besides, I couldn’t be peeved at anything tonight. I am like -a little child clapping its hands and dancing in the sunshine. For -though it has been some time getting a move on, Bertie, the sun has at -last broken through the clouds. Ring out those joy bells. Anatole has -withdrawn his notice.” - -“What? Oh, very hearty congratulations.” - -“Thanks. Yes, I worked on him like a beaver after I got back this -afternoon, and finally, vowing he would ne’er consent, he consented. He -stays on, praises be, and the way I look at it now is that God’s in His -heaven and all’s right with----” - -She broke off. The door had opened, and we were plus a butler. - -“Hullo, Seppings,” said Aunt Dahlia. “I thought you had gone.” - -“Not yet, madam.” - -“Well, I hope you will all have a good time.” - -“Thank you, madam.” - -“Was there something you wanted to see me about?” - -“Yes, madam. It is with reference to Monsieur Anatole. Is it by your -wish, madam, that Mr. Fink-Nottle is making faces at Monsieur Anatole -through the skylight of his bedroom?” - - - - --20- - - -There was one of those long silences. Pregnant, I believe, is what -they’re generally called. Aunt looked at butler. Butler looked at aunt. -I looked at both of them. An eerie stillness seemed to envelop the room -like a linseed poultice. I happened to be biting on a slice of apple in -my fruit salad at the moment, and it sounded as if Carnera had jumped -off the top of the Eiffel Tower on to a cucumber frame. - -Aunt Dahlia steadied herself against the sideboard, and spoke in a low, -husky voice: - -“Faces?” - -“Yes, madam.” - -“Through the skylight?” - -“Yes, madam.” - -“You mean he’s sitting on the roof?” - -“Yes, madam. It has upset Monsieur Anatole very much.” - -I suppose it was that word “upset” that touched Aunt Dahlia off. -Experience had taught her what happened when Anatole got upset. I had -always known her as a woman who was quite active on her pins, but I -had never suspected her of being capable of the magnificent burst of -speed which she now showed. Pausing merely to get a rich hunting-field -expletive off her chest, she was out of the room and making for the -stairs before I could swallow a sliver of--I think--banana. And -feeling, as I had felt when I got that telegram of hers about Angela -and Tuppy, that my place was by her side, I put down my plate and -hastened after her, Seppings following at a loping gallop. - -I say that my place was by her side, but it was not so dashed easy to -get there, for she was setting a cracking pace. At the top of the first -flight she must have led by a matter of half a dozen lengths, and was -still shaking off my challenge when she rounded into the second. At the -next landing, however, the gruelling going appeared to tell on her, for -she slackened off a trifle and showed symptoms of roaring, and by the -time we were in the straight we were running practically neck and neck. -Our entry into Anatole’s room was as close a finish as you could have -wished to see. - -Result: - 1. _Aunt Dahlia._ - 2. _Bertram._ - 3. _Seppings._ - -_Won by a short head. Half a staircase separated second and third._ - -The first thing that met the eye on entering was Anatole. This wizard -of the cooking-stove is a tubby little man with a moustache of the -outsize or soup-strainer type, and you can generally take a line -through it as to the state of his emotions. When all is well, it turns -up at the ends like a sergeant-major’s. When the soul is bruised, it -droops. - -It was drooping now, striking a sinister note. And if any shadow of -doubt had remained as to how he was feeling, the way he was carrying on -would have dispelled it. He was standing by the bed in pink pyjamas, -waving his fists at the skylight. Through the glass, Gussie was staring -down. His eyes were bulging and his mouth was open, giving him so -striking a resemblance to some rare fish in an aquarium that one’s -primary impulse was to offer him an ant’s egg. - -Watching this fist-waving cook and this goggling guest, I must say -that my sympathies were completely with the former. I considered him -thoroughly justified in waving all the fists he wanted to. - -Review the facts, I mean to say. There he had been, lying in bed, -thinking idly of whatever French cooks do think about when in bed, and -he had suddenly become aware of that frightful face at the window. A -thing to jar the most phlegmatic. I know I should hate to be lying in -bed and have Gussie popping up like that. A chap’s bedroom--you can’t -get away from it--is his castle, and he has every right to look askance -if gargoyles come glaring in at him. - -While I stood musing thus, Aunt Dahlia, in her practical way, was -coming straight to the point: - -“What’s all this?” - -Anatole did a sort of Swedish exercise, starting at the base of the -spine, carrying on through the shoulder-blades and finishing up among -the back hair. - -Then he told her. - -In the chats I have had with this wonder man, I have always found his -English fluent, but a bit on the mixed side. If you remember, he was -with Mrs. Bingo Little for a time before coming to Brinkley, and no -doubt he picked up a good deal from Bingo. Before that, he had been a -couple of years with an American family at Nice and had studied under -their chauffeur, one of the Maloneys of Brooklyn. So, what with Bingo -and what with Maloney, he is, as I say, fluent but a bit mixed. - -He spoke, in part, as follows: - -“Hot dog! You ask me what is it? Listen. Make some attention a little. -Me, I have hit the hay, but I do not sleep so good, and presently I -wake and up I look, and there is one who make faces against me through -the dashed window. Is that a pretty affair? Is that convenient? If -you think I like it, you jolly well mistake yourself. I am so mad as -a wet hen. And why not? I am somebody, isn’t it? This is a bedroom, -what-what, not a house for some apes? Then for what do blighters sit on -my window so cool as a few cucumbers, making some faces?” - -“Quite,” I said. Dashed reasonable, was my verdict. - -He threw another look up at Gussie, and did Exercise 2--the one where -you clutch the moustache, give it a tug and then start catching flies. - -“Wait yet a little. I am not finish. I say I see this type on my -window, making a few faces. But what then? Does he buzz off when I -shout a cry, and leave me peaceable? Not on your life. He remain -planted there, not giving any damns, and sit regarding me like a cat -watching a duck. He make faces against me and again he make faces -against me, and the more I command that he should get to hell out of -here, the more he do not get to hell out of here. He cry something -towards me, and I demand what is his desire, but he do not explain. -Oh, no, that arrives never. He does but shrug his head. What damn -silliness! Is this amusing for me? You think I like it? I am not -content with such folly. I think the poor mutt’s loony. _Je me -fiche de ce type infect. C’est idiot de faire comme ça l’oiseau.... -Allez-vous-en, louffier_.... Tell the boob to go away. He is mad as -some March hatters.” - -I must say I thought he was making out a jolly good case, and evidently -Aunt Dahlia felt the same. She laid a quivering hand on his shoulder. - -“I will, Monsieur Anatole, I will,” she said, and I couldn’t have -believed that robust voice capable of sinking to such an absolute coo. -More like a turtle dove calling to its mate than anything else. “It’s -quite all right.” - -She had said the wrong thing. He did Exercise 3. - -“All right? _Nom d’un nom d’un nom_! The hell you say it’s all right! -Of what use to pull stuff like that? Wait one half-moment. Not yet -quite so quick, my old sport. It is by no means all right. See yet -again a little. It is some very different dishes of fish. I can take a -few smooths with a rough, it is true, but I do not find it agreeable -when one play larks against me on my windows. That cannot do. A nice -thing, no. I am a serious man. I do not wish a few larks on my windows. -I enjoy larks on my windows worse as any. It is very little all right. -If such rannygazoo is to arrive, I do not remain any longer in this -house no more. I buzz off and do not stay planted.” - -Sinister words, I had to admit, and I was not surprised that Aunt -Dahlia, hearing them, should have uttered a cry like the wail of a -master of hounds seeing a fox shot. Anatole had begun to wave his fists -again at Gussie, and she now joined him. Seppings, who was puffing -respectfully in the background, didn’t actually wave his fists, but -he gave Gussie a pretty austere look. It was plain to the thoughtful -observer that this Fink-Nottle, in getting on to that skylight, had -done a mistaken thing. He couldn’t have been more unpopular in the home -of G.G. Simmons. - -“Go away, you crazy loon!” cried Aunt Dahlia, in that ringing voice -of hers which had once caused nervous members of the Quorn to lose -stirrups and take tosses from the saddle. - -Gussie’s reply was to waggle his eyebrows. I could read the message he -was trying to convey. - -“I think he means,” I said--reasonable old Bertram, always trying to -throw oil on the troubled w’s----“that if he does he will fall down the -side of the house and break his neck.” - -“Well, why not?” said Aunt Dahlia. - -I could see her point, of course, but it seemed to me that there might -be a nearer solution. This skylight happened to be the only window in -the house which Uncle Tom had not festooned with his bally bars. I -suppose he felt that if a burglar had the nerve to climb up as far as -this, he deserved what was coming to him. - -“If you opened the skylight, he could jump in.” - -The idea got across. - -“Seppings, how does this skylight open?” - -“With a pole, madam.” - -“Then get a pole. Get two poles. Ten.” - -And presently Gussie was mixing with the company, Like one of those -chaps you read about in the papers, the wretched man seemed deeply -conscious of his position. - -I must say Aunt Dahlia’s bearing and demeanour did nothing to assist -toward a restored composure. Of the amiability which she had exhibited -when discussing this unhappy chump’s activities with me over the fruit -salad, no trace remained, and I was not surprised that speech more or -less froze on the Fink-Nottle lips. It isn’t often that Aunt Dahlia, -normally as genial a bird as ever encouraged a gaggle of hounds to get -their noses down to it, lets her angry passions rise, but when she -does, strong men climb trees and pull them up after them. - -“Well?” she said. - -In answer to this, all that Gussie could produce was a sort of -strangled hiccough. - -“Well?” - -Aunt Dahlia’s face grew darker. Hunting, if indulged in regularly over -a period of years, is a pastime that seldom fails to lend a fairly -deepish tinge to the patient’s complexion, and her best friends could -not have denied that even at normal times the relative’s map tended a -little toward the crushed strawberry. But never had I seen it take on -so pronounced a richness as now. She looked like a tomato struggling -for self-expression. - -“Well?” - -Gussie tried hard. And for a moment it seemed as if something was going -to come through. But in the end it turned out nothing more than a sort -of death-rattle. - -“Oh, take him away, Bertie, and put ice on his head,” said Aunt Dahlia, -giving the thing up. And she turned to tackle what looked like the -rather man’s size job of soothing Anatole, who was now carrying on a -muttered conversation with himself in a rapid sort of way. - -Seeming to feel that the situation was one to which he could not do -justice in Bingo-cum-Maloney Anglo-American, he had fallen back on -his native tongue. Words like “_marmiton de Domange,” “pignouf,” -“hurluberlu_” and “_roustisseur_” were fluttering from him like bats -out of a barn. Lost on me, of course, because, though I sweated a bit -at the Gallic language during that Cannes visit, I’m still more or less -in the Esker-vous-avez stage. I regretted this, for they sounded good. - -I assisted Gussie down the stairs. A cooler thinker than Aunt Dahlia, I -had already guessed the hidden springs and motives which had led him to -the roof. Where she had seen only a cockeyed reveller indulging himself -in a drunken prank or whimsy, I had spotted the hunted fawn. - -“Was Tuppy after you?” I asked sympathetically. - -What I believe is called a _frisson_ shook him. - -“He nearly got me on the top landing. I shinned out through a passage -window and scrambled along a sort of ledge.” - -“That baffled him, what?” - -“Yes. But then I found I had stuck. The roof sloped down in all -directions. I couldn’t go back. I had to go on, crawling along this -ledge. And then I found myself looking down the skylight. Who was that -chap?” - -“That was Anatole, Aunt Dahlia’s chef.” - -“French?” - -“To the core.” - -“That explains why I couldn’t make him understand. What asses these -Frenchmen are. They don’t seem able to grasp the simplest thing. You’d -have thought if a chap saw a chap on a skylight, the chap would realize -the chap wanted to be let in. But no, he just stood there.” - -“Waving a few fists.” - -“Yes. Silly idiot. Still, here I am.” - -“Here you are, yes--for the moment.” - -“Eh?” - -“I was thinking that Tuppy is probably lurking somewhere.” - -He leaped like a lamb in springtime. - -“What shall I do?” - -I considered this. - -“Sneak back to your room and barricade the door. That is the manly -policy.” - -“Suppose that’s where he’s lurking?” - -“In that case, move elsewhere.” - -But on arrival at the room, it transpired that Tuppy, if anywhere, was -infesting some other portion of the house. Gussie shot in, and I heard -the key turn. And feeling that there was no more that I could do in -that quarter, I returned to the dining-room for further fruit salad and -a quiet think. And I had barely filled my plate when the door opened -and Aunt Dahlia came in. She sank into a chair, looking a bit shopworn. - -“Give me a drink, Bertie.” - -“What sort?” - -“Any sort, so long as it’s strong.” - -Approach Bertram Wooster along these lines, and you catch him at his -best. St. Bernard dogs doing the square thing by Alpine travellers -could not have bustled about more assiduously. I filled the order, and -for some moments nothing was to be heard but the sloshing sound of an -aunt restoring her tissues. - -“Shove it down, Aunt Dahlia,” I said sympathetically. “These things -take it out of one, don’t they? You’ve had a toughish time, no doubt, -soothing Anatole,” I proceeded, helping myself to anchovy paste on -toast. “Everything pretty smooth now, I trust?” - -She gazed at me in a long, lingering sort of way, her brow wrinkled as -if in thought. - -“Attila,” she said at length. “That’s the name. Attila, the Hun.” - -“Eh?” - -“I was trying to think who you reminded me of. Somebody who went about -strewing ruin and desolation and breaking up homes which, until he came -along, had been happy and peaceful. Attila is the man. It’s amazing.” -she said, drinking me in once more. “To look at you, one would think -you were just an ordinary sort of amiable idiot--certifiable, perhaps, -but quite harmless. Yet, in reality, you are worse a scourge than the -Black Death. I tell you, Bertie, when I contemplate you I seem to come -up against all the underlying sorrow and horror of life with such a -thud that I feel as if I had walked into a lamp post.” - -Pained and surprised, I would have spoken, but the stuff I had thought -was anchovy paste had turned out to be something far more gooey -and adhesive. It seemed to wrap itself round the tongue and impede -utterance like a gag. And while I was still endeavouring to clear the -vocal cords for action, she went on: - -“Do you realize what you started when you sent that Spink-Bottle man -down here? As regards his getting blotto and turning the prize-giving -ceremonies at Market Snodsbury Grammar School into a sort of two-reel -comic film, I will say nothing, for frankly I enjoyed it. But when -he comes leering at Anatole through skylights, just after I had with -infinite pains and tact induced him to withdraw his notice, and -makes him so temperamental that he won’t hear of staying on after -tomorrow----” - -The paste stuff gave way. I was able to speak: - -“What?” - -“Yes, Anatole goes tomorrow, and I suppose poor old Tom will have -indigestion for the rest of his life. And that is not all. I have just -seen Angela, and she tells me she is engaged to this Bottle.” - -“Temporarily, yes,” I had to admit. - -“Temporarily be blowed. She’s definitely engaged to him and talks with -a sort of hideous coolness of getting married in October. So there it -is. If the prophet Job were to walk into the room at this moment, I -could sit swapping hard-luck stories with him till bedtime. Not that -Job was in my class.” - -“He had boils.” - -“Well, what are boils?” - -“Dashed painful, I understand.” - -“Nonsense. I’d take all the boils on the market in exchange for my -troubles. Can’t you realize the position? I’ve lost the best cook to -England. My husband, poor soul, will probably die of dyspepsia. And -my only daughter, for whom I had dreamed such a wonderful future, is -engaged to be married to an inebriated newt fancier. And you talk about -boils!” - -I corrected her on a small point: - -“I don’t absolutely talk about boils. I merely mentioned that Job had -them. Yes, I agree with you, Aunt Dahlia, that things are not looking -too oojah-cum-spiff at the moment, but be of good cheer. A Wooster is -seldom baffled for more than the nonce.” - -“You rather expect to be coming along shortly with another of your -schemes?” - -“At any minute.” - -She sighed resignedly. - -“I thought as much. Well, it needed but this. I don’t see how things -could possibly be worse than they are, but no doubt you will succeed in -making them so. Your genius and insight will find the way. Carry on, -Bertie. Yes, carry on. I am past caring now. I shall even find a faint -interest in seeing into what darker and profounder abysses of hell -you can plunge this home. Go to it, lad.... What’s that stuff you’re -eating?” - -“I find it a little difficult to classify. Some sort of paste on toast. -Rather like glue flavoured with beef extract.” - -“Gimme,” said Aunt Dahlia listlessly. - -“Be careful how you chew,” I advised. “It sticketh closer than a -brother.... Yes, Jeeves?” - -The man had materialized on the carpet. Absolutely noiseless, as usual. - -“A note for you, sir.” - -“A note for me, Jeeves?” - -“A note for you, sir.” - -“From whom, Jeeves?” - -“From Miss Bassett, sir.” - -“From whom, Jeeves?” - -“From Miss Bassett, sir.” - -“From Miss Bassett, Jeeves?” - -“From Miss Bassett, sir.” - -At this point, Aunt Dahlia, who had taken one nibble at her -whatever-it-was-on-toast and laid it down, begged us--a little -fretfully, I thought--for heaven’s sake to cut out the cross-talk -vaudeville stuff, as she had enough to bear already without having to -listen to us doing our imitation of the Two Macs. Always willing to -oblige, I dismissed Jeeves with a nod, and he flickered for a moment -and was gone. Many a spectre would have been less slippy. - -“But what,” I mused, toying with the envelope, “can this female be -writing to me about?” - -“Why not open the damn thing and see?” - -“A very excellent idea,” I said, and did so. - -“And if you are interested in my movements,” proceeded Aunt Dahlia, -heading for the door, “I propose to go to my room, do some Yogi deep -breathing, and try to forget.” - -“Quite,” I said absently, skimming p. l. And then, as I turned over, -a sharp howl broke from my lips, causing Aunt Dahlia to shy like a -startled mustang. - -“Don’t do it!” she exclaimed, quivering in every limb. - -“Yes, but dash it----” - -“What a pest you are, you miserable object,” she sighed. “I remember -years ago, when you were in your cradle, being left alone with you one -day and you nearly swallowed your rubber comforter and started turning -purple. And I, ass that I was, took it out and saved your life. Let -me tell you, young Bertie, it will go very hard with you if you ever -swallow a rubber comforter again when only I am by to aid.” - -“But, dash it!” I cried. “Do you know what’s happened? Madeline Bassett -says she’s going to marry me!” - -“I hope it keeps fine for you,” said the relative, and passed from the -room looking like something out of an Edgar Allan Poe story. - - - - --21- - - -I don’t suppose I was looking so dashed unlike something out of an -Edgar Allan Poe story myself, for, as you can readily imagine, the news -item which I have just recorded had got in amongst me properly. If -the Bassett, in the belief that the Wooster heart had long been hers -and was waiting ready to be scooped in on demand, had decided to take -up her option, I should, as a man of honour and sensibility, have no -choice but to come across and kick in. The matter was obviously not one -that could be straightened out with a curt _nolle prosequi_. All the -evidence, therefore, seemed to point to the fact that the doom had come -upon me and, what was more, had come to stay. - -And yet, though it would be idle to pretend that my grip on the -situation was quite the grip I would have liked it to be, I did not -despair of arriving at a solution. A lesser man, caught in this awful -snare, would no doubt have thrown in the towel at once and ceased to -struggle; but the whole point about the Woosters is that they are not -lesser men. - -By way of a start, I read the note again. Not that I had any hope that -a second perusal would enable me to place a different construction on -its contents, but it helped to fill in while the brain was limbering -up. I then, to assist thought, had another go at the fruit salad, and -in addition ate a slice of sponge cake. And it was as I passed on to -the cheese that the machinery started working. I saw what had to be -done. - -To the question which had been exercising the mind--viz., can Bertram -cope?--I was now able to reply with a confident “Absolutely.” - -The great wheeze on these occasions of dirty work at the crossroads is -not to lose your head but to keep cool and try to find the ringleaders. -Once find the ringleaders, and you know where you are. - -The ringleader here was plainly the Bassett. It was she who had started -the whole imbroglio by chucking Gussie, and it was clear that before -anything could be done to solve and clarify, she must be induced to -revise her views and take him on again. This would put Angela back into -circulation, and that would cause Tuppy to simmer down a bit, and then -we could begin to get somewhere. - -I decided that as soon as I had had another morsel of cheese I would -seek this Bassett out and be pretty eloquent. - -And at this moment in she came. I might have foreseen that she would be -turning up shortly. I mean to say, hearts may ache, but if they know -that there is a cold collation set out in the dining-room, they are -pretty sure to come popping in sooner or later. - -Her eyes, as she entered the room, were fixed on the salmon mayonnaise, -and she would no doubt have made a bee-line for it and started getting -hers, had I not, in the emotion of seeing her, dropped a glass of the -best with which I was endeavouring to bring about a calmer frame of -mind. The noise caused her to turn, and for an instant embarrassment -supervened. A slight flush mantled the cheek, and the eyes popped a bit. - -“Oh!” she said. - -I have always found that there is nothing that helps to ease you over -one of these awkward moments like a spot of stage business. Find -something to do with your hands, and it’s half the battle. I grabbed a -plate and hastened forward. - -“A touch of salmon?” - -“Thank you.” - -“With a suspicion of salad?” - -“If you please.” - -“And to drink? Name the poison.” - -“I think I would like a little orange juice.” - -She gave a gulp. Not at the orange juice, I don’t mean, because she -hadn’t got it yet, but at all the tender associations those two words -provoked. It was as if someone had mentioned spaghetti to the relict -of an Italian organ-grinder. Her face flushed a deeper shade, she -registered anguish, and I saw that it was no longer within the sphere -of practical politics to try to confine the conversation to neutral -topics like cold boiled salmon. - -So did she, I imagine, for when I, as a preliminary to getting down to -brass tacks, said “Er,” she said “Er,” too, simultaneously, the brace -of “Ers” clashing in mid-air. - -“I’m sorry.” - -“I beg your pardon.” - -“You were saying----” - -“You were saying----” - -“No, please go on.” - -“Oh, right-ho.” - -I straightened the tie, my habit when in this girl’s society, and had -at it: - -“With reference to yours of even date----” - -She flushed again, and took a rather strained forkful of salmon. - -“You got my note?” - -“Yes, I got your note.” - -“I gave it to Jeeves to give it to you.” - -“Yes, he gave it to me. That’s how I got it.” - -There was another silence. And as she was plainly shrinking from -talking turkey, I was reluctantly compelled to do so. I mean, somebody -had got to. Too dashed silly, a male and female in our position simply -standing eating salmon and cheese at one another without a word. - -“Yes, I got it all right.” - -“I see. You got it.” - -“Yes, I got it. I’ve just been reading it. And what I was rather -wanting to ask you, if we happened to run into each other, was--well, -what about it?” - -“What about it?” - -“That’s what I say: What about it?” - -“But it was quite clear.” - -“Oh, quite. Perfectly clear. Very well expressed and all that. -But--I mean--Well, I mean, deeply sensible of the honour, and so -forth--but---- Well, dash it!” - -She had polished off her salmon, and now put the plate down. - -“Fruit salad?” - -“No, thank you.” - -“Spot of pie?” - -“No, thanks.” - -“One of those glue things on toast?” - -“No, thank you.” - -She took a cheese straw. I found a cold egg which I had overlooked. -Then I said “I mean to say” just as she said “I think I know”, and -there was another collision. - -“I beg your pardon.” - -“I’m sorry.” - -“Do go on.” - -“No, you go on.” - -I waved my cold egg courteously, to indicate that she had the floor, -and she started again: - -“I think I know what you are trying to say. You are surprised.” - -“Yes.” - -“You are thinking of----” - -“Exactly.” - -“--Mr. Fink-Nottle.” - -“The very man.” - -“You find what I have done hard to understand.” - -“Absolutely.” - -“I don’t wonder.” - -“I do.” - -“And yet it is quite simple.” - -She took another cheese straw. She seemed to like cheese straws. - -“Quite simple, really. I want to make you happy.” - -“Dashed decent of you.” - -“I am going to devote the rest of my life to making you happy.” - -“A very matey scheme.” - -“I can at least do that. But--may I be quite frank with you, Bertie?” - -“Oh, rather.” - -“Then I must tell you this. I am fond of you. I will marry you. I will -do my best to make you a good wife. But my affection for you can never -be the flamelike passion I felt for Augustus.” - -“Just the very point I was working round to. There, as you say, is the -snag. Why not chuck the whole idea of hitching up with me? Wash it out -altogether. I mean, if you love old Gussie----” - -“No longer.” - -“Oh, come.” - -“No. What happened this afternoon has killed my love. A smear of -ugliness has been drawn across a thing of beauty, and I can never feel -towards him as I did.” - -I saw what she meant, of course. Gussie had bunged his heart at her -feet; she had picked it up, and, almost immediately after doing so, -had discovered that he had been stewed to the eyebrows all the time. -The shock must have been severe. No girl likes to feel that a chap has -got to be thoroughly plastered before he can ask her to marry him. It -wounds the pride. - -Nevertheless, I persevered. - -“But have you considered,” I said, “that you may have got a wrong line -on Gussie’s performance this afternoon? Admitted that all the evidence -points to a more sinister theory, what price him simply having got a -touch of the sun? Chaps do get touches of the sun, you know, especially -when the weather’s hot.” - -She looked at me, and I saw that she was putting in a bit of the old -drenched-irises stuff. - -“It was like you to say that, Bertie. I respect you for it.” - -“Oh, no.” - -“Yes. You have a splendid, chivalrous soul.” - -“Not a bit.” - -“Yes, you have. You remind me of Cyrano.” - -“Who?” - -“Cyrano de Bergerac.” - -“The chap with the nose?” - -“Yes.” - -I can’t say I was any too pleased. I felt the old beak furtively. It -was a bit on the prominent side, perhaps, but, dash it, not in the -Cyrano class. It began to look as if the next thing this girl would do -would be to compare me to Schnozzle Durante. - -“He loved, but pleaded another’s cause.” - -“Oh, I see what you mean now.” - -“I like you for that, Bertie. It was fine of you--fine and big. But -it is no use. There are things which kill love. I can never forget -Augustus, but my love for him is dead. I will be your wife.” - -Well, one has to be civil. - -“Right ho,” I said. “Thanks awfully.” - -Then the dialogue sort of poofed out once more, and we stood eating -cheese straws and cold eggs respectively in silence. There seemed to -exist some little uncertainty as to what the next move was. - -Fortunately, before embarrassment could do much more supervening, -Angela came in, and this broke up the meeting. Then Bassett announced -our engagement, and Angela kissed her and said she hoped she would be -very, very happy, and the Bassett kissed her and said she hoped she -would be very, very happy with Gussie, and Angela said she was sure she -would, because Augustus was such a dear, and the Bassett kissed her -again, and Angela kissed her again and, in a word, the whole thing got -so bally feminine that I was glad to edge away. - -I would have been glad to do so, of course, in any case, for if ever -there was a moment when it was up to Bertram to think, and think hard, -this moment was that moment. - -It was, it seemed to me, the end. Not even on the occasion, some years -earlier, when I had inadvertently become betrothed to Tuppy’s frightful -Cousin Honoria, had I experienced a deeper sense of being waist high -in the gumbo and about to sink without trace. I wandered out into the -garden, smoking a tortured gasper, with the iron well embedded in the -soul. And I had fallen into a sort of trance, trying to picture what -it would be like having the Bassett on the premises for the rest of my -life and at the same time, if you follow me, trying not to picture what -it would be like, when I charged into something which might have been a -tree, but was not--being, in point of fact, Jeeves. - -“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said. “I should have moved to one side.” - -I did not reply. I stood looking at him in silence. For the sight of -him had opened up a new line of thought. - -This Jeeves, now, I reflected. I had formed the opinion that he had -lost his grip and was no longer the force he had been, but was it not -possible, I asked myself, that I might be mistaken? Start him off -exploring avenues and might he not discover one through which I would -be enabled to sneak off to safety, leaving no hard feelings behind? I -found myself answering that it was quite on the cards that he might. - -After all, his head still bulged out at the back as of old. One noted -in the eyes the same intelligent glitter. - -Mind you, after what had passed between us in the matter of that white -mess-jacket with the brass buttons, I was not prepared absolutely -to hand over to the man. I would, of course, merely take him into -consultation. But, recalling some of his earlier triumphs--the -Sipperley Case, the Episode of My Aunt Agatha and the Dog McIntosh, -and the smoothly handled Affair of Uncle George and The Barmaid’s -Niece were a few that sprang to my mind--I felt justified at least in -offering him the opportunity of coming to the aid of the young master -in his hour of peril. - -But before proceeding further, there was one thing that had got to be -understood between us, and understood clearly. - -“Jeeves,” I said, “a word with you.” - -“Sir?” - -“I am up against it a bit, Jeeves.” - -“I am sorry to hear that, sir. Can I be of any assistance?” - -“Quite possibly you can, if you have not lost your grip. Tell me -frankly, Jeeves, are you in pretty good shape mentally?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Still eating plenty of fish?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Then it may be all right. But there is just one point before I begin. -In the past, when you have contrived to extricate self or some pal from -some little difficulty, you have frequently shown a disposition to take -advantage of my gratitude to gain some private end. Those purple socks, -for instance. Also the plus fours and the Old Etonian spats. Choosing -your moment with subtle cunning, you came to me when I was weakened by -relief and got me to get rid of them. And what I am saying now is that -if you are successful on the present occasion there must be no rot of -that description about that mess-jacket of mine.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“You will not come to me when all is over and ask me to jettison the -jacket?” - -“Certainly not, sir.” - -“On that understanding then, I will carry on. Jeeves, I’m engaged.” - -“I hope you will be very happy, sir.” - -“Don’t be an ass. I’m engaged to Miss Bassett.” - -“Indeed, sir? I was not aware----” - -“Nor was I. It came as a complete surprise. However, there it is. The -official intimation was in that note you brought me.” - -“Odd, sir.” - -“What is?” - -“Odd, sir, that the contents of that note should have been as you -describe. It seemed to me that Miss Bassett, when she handed me the -communication, was far from being in a happy frame of mind.” - -“She is far from being in a happy frame of mind. You don’t suppose -she really wants to marry me, do you? Pshaw, Jeeves! Can’t you see -that this is simply another of those bally gestures which are rapidly -rendering Brinkley Court a hell for man and beast? Dash all gestures, -is my view.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Well, what’s to be done?” - -“You feel that Miss Bassett, despite what has occurred, still retains a -fondness for Mr. Fink-Nottle, sir?” - -“She’s pining for him.” - -“In that case, sir, surely the best plan would be to bring about a -reconciliation between them.” - -“How? You see. You stand silent and twiddle the fingers. You are -stumped.” - -“No, sir. If I twiddled my fingers, it was merely to assist thought.” - -“Then continue twiddling.” - -“It will not be necessary, sir.” - -“You don’t mean you’ve got a bite already?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“You astound me, Jeeves. Let’s have it.” - -“The device which I have in mind is one that I have already mentioned -to you, sir.” - -“When did you ever mention any device to me?” - -“If you will throw your mind back to the evening of our arrival, sir. -You were good enough to inquire of me if I had any plan to put forward -with a view to bringing Miss Angela and Mr. Glossop together, and I -ventured to suggest----” - -“Good Lord! Not the old fire-alarm thing?” - -“Precisely, sir.” - -“You’re still sticking to that?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -It shows how much the ghastly blow I had received had shaken me when -I say that, instead of dismissing the proposal with a curt “Tchah!” -or anything like that, I found myself speculating as to whether there -might not be something in it, after all. - -When he had first mooted this fire-alarm scheme of his, I had sat -upon it, if you remember, with the maximum of promptitude and vigour. -“Rotten” was the adjective I had employed to describe it, and you may -recall that I mused a bit sadly, considering the idea conclusive proof -of the general breakdown of a once fine mind. But now it somehow began -to look as if it might have possibilities. The fact of the matter was -that I had about reached the stage where I was prepared to try anything -once, however goofy. - -“Just run through that wheeze again, Jeeves,” I said thoughtfully. “I -remember thinking it cuckoo, but it may be that I missed some of the -finer shades.” - -“Your criticism of it at the time, sir, was that it was too elaborate, -but I do not think it is so in reality. As I see it, sir, the occupants -of the house, hearing the fire bell ring, will suppose that a -conflagration has broken out.” - -I nodded. One could follow the train of thought. - -“Yes, that seems reasonable.” - -“Whereupon Mr. Glossop will hasten to save Miss Angela, while Mr. -Fink-Nottle performs the same office for Miss Bassett.” - -“Is that based on psychology?” - -“Yes, sir. Possibly you may recollect that it was an axiom of the late -Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s fictional detective, Sherlock Holmes, that -the instinct of everyone, upon an alarm of fire, is to save the object -dearest to them.” - -“It seems to me that there is a grave danger of seeing Tuppy come out -carrying a steak-and-kidney pie, but resume, Jeeves, resume. You think -that this would clean everything up?” - -“The relations of the two young couples could scarcely continue distant -after such an occurrence, sir.” - -“Perhaps you’re right. But, dash it, if we go ringing fire bells in the -night watches, shan’t we scare half the domestic staff into fits? There -is one of the housemaids--Jane, I believe--who already skips like the -high hills if I so much as come on her unexpectedly round a corner.” - -“A neurotic girl, sir, I agree. I have noticed her. But by acting -promptly we should avoid such a contingency. The entire staff, with the -exception of Monsieur Anatole, will be at the ball at Kingham Manor -tonight.” - -“Of course. That just shows the condition this thing has reduced me -to. Forget my own name next. Well, then, let’s just try to envisage. -Bong goes the bell. Gussie rushes and grabs the Bassett.... Wait. Why -shouldn’t she simply walk downstairs?” - -“You are overlooking the effect of sudden alarm on the feminine -temperament, sir.” - -“That’s true.” - -“Miss Bassett’s impulse, I would imagine, sir, would be to leap from -her window.” - -“Well, that’s worse. We don’t want her spread out in a sort of _purée_ -on the lawn. It seems to me that the flaw in this scheme of yours, -Jeeves, is that it’s going to litter the garden with mangled corpses.” - -“No, sir. You will recall that Mr. Travers’s fear of burglars has -caused him to have stout bars fixed to all the windows.” - -“Of course, yes. Well, it sounds all right,” I said, though still a -bit doubtfully. “Quite possibly it may come off. But I have a feeling -that it will slip up somewhere. However, I am in no position to cavil -at even a 100 to 1 shot. I will adopt this policy of yours, Jeeves, -though, as I say, with misgivings. At what hour would you suggest -bonging the bell?” - -“Not before midnight, sir.” - -“That is to say, some time after midnight.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Right-ho, then. At 12.30 on the dot, I will bong.” - -“Very good, sir.” - - - - --22- - - -I don’t know why it is, but there’s something about the rural districts -after dark that always has a rummy effect on me. In London I can stay -out till all hours and come home with the milk without a tremor, -but put me in the garden of a country house after the strength of -the company has gone to roost and the place is shut up, and a sort -of goose-fleshy feeling steals over me. The night wind stirs the -tree-tops, twigs crack, bushes rustle, and before I know where I am, -the morale has gone phut and I’m expecting the family ghost to come -sneaking up behind me, making groaning noises. Dashed unpleasant, the -whole thing, and if you think it improves matters to know that you are -shortly about to ring the loudest fire bell in England and start an -all-hands-to-the-pumps panic in that quiet, darkened house, you err. - -I knew all about the Brinkley Court fire bell. The dickens of a row it -makes. Uncle Tom, in addition to not liking burglars, is a bloke who -has always objected to the idea of being cooked in his sleep, so when -he bought the place he saw to it that the fire bell should be something -that might give you heart failure, but which you couldn’t possibly -mistake for the drowsy chirping of a sparrow in the ivy. - -When I was a kid and spent my holidays at Brinkley, we used to have -fire drills after closing time, and many is the night I’ve had it jerk -me out of the dreamless like the Last Trump. - -I confess that the recollection of what this bell could do when it -buckled down to it gave me pause as I stood that night at 12.30 p.m. -prompt beside the outhouse where it was located. The sight of the rope -against the whitewashed wall and the thought of the bloodsome uproar -which was about to smash the peace of the night into hash served to -deepen that rummy feeling to which I have alluded. - -Moreover, now that I had had time to meditate upon it, I was more than -ever defeatist about this scheme of Jeeves’s. - -Jeeves seemed to take it for granted that Gussie and Tuppy, faced with -a hideous fate, would have no thought beyond saving the Bassett and -Angela. - -I could not bring myself to share his sunny confidence. - -I mean to say, I know how moments when they’re faced with a hideous -fate affect chaps. I remember Freddie Widgeon, one of the most -chivalrous birds in the Drones, telling me how there was an alarm of -fire once at a seaside hotel where he was staying and, so far from -rushing about saving women, he was down the escape within ten seconds -of the kick-off, his mind concerned with but one thing--viz., the -personal well-being of F. Widgeon. - -As far as any idea of doing the delicately nurtured a bit of good went, -he tells me, he was prepared to stand underneath and catch them in -blankets, but no more. - -Why, then, should this not be so with Augustus Fink-Nottle and -Hildebrand Glossop? - -Such were my thoughts as I stood toying with the rope, and I believe -I should have turned the whole thing up, had it not been that at this -juncture there floated into my mind a picture of the Bassett hearing -that bell for the first time. Coming as a wholly new experience, it -would probably startle her into a decline. - -And so agreeable was this reflection that I waited no longer, but -seized the rope, braced the feet and snapped into it. - -Well, as I say, I hadn’t been expecting that bell to hush things up to -any great extent. Nor did it. The last time I had heard it, I had been -in my room on the other side of the house, and even so it had hoiked -me out of bed as if something had exploded under me. Standing close to -it like this, I got the full force and meaning of the thing, and I’ve -never heard anything like it in my puff. - -I rather enjoy a bit of noise, as a general rule. I remember Cats-meat -Potter-Pirbright bringing a police rattle into the Drones one night and -loosing it off behind my chair, and I just lay back and closed my eyes -with a pleasant smile, like someone in a box at the opera. And the same -applies to the time when my Aunt Agatha’s son, young Thos., put a match -to the parcel of Guy Fawkes Day fireworks to see what would happen. - -But the Brinkley Court fire bell was too much for me. I gave about half -a dozen tugs, and then, feeling that enough was enough, sauntered round -to the front lawn to ascertain what solid results had been achieved. - -Brinkley Court had given of its best. A glance told me that we were -playing to capacity. The eye, roving to and fro, noted here Uncle -Tom in a purple dressing gown, there Aunt Dahlia in the old blue and -yellow. It also fell upon Anatole, Tuppy, Gussie, Angela, the Bassett -and Jeeves, in the order named. There they all were, present and -correct. - -But--and this was what caused me immediate concern--I could detect no -sign whatever that there had been any rescue work going on. - -What I had been hoping, of course, was to see Tuppy bending -solicitously over Angela in one corner, while Gussie fanned the Bassett -with a towel in the other. Instead of which, the Bassett was one of the -group which included Aunt Dahlia and Uncle Tom and seemed to be busy -trying to make Anatole see the bright side, while Angela and Gussie -were, respectively, leaning against the sundial with a peeved look and -sitting on the grass rubbing a barked shin. Tuppy was walking up and -down the path, all by himself. - -A disturbing picture, you will admit. It was with a rather imperious -gesture that I summoned Jeeves to my side. - -“Well, Jeeves?” - -“Sir?” - -I eyed him sternly. “Sir?” forsooth! - -“It’s no good saying ‘Sir?’ Jeeves. Look round you. See for yourself. -Your scheme has proved a bust.” - -“Certainly it would appear that matters have not arranged themselves -quite as we anticipated, sir.” - -“We?” - -“As I had anticipated, sir.” - -“That’s more like it. Didn’t I tell you it would be a flop?” - -“I remember that you did seem dubious, sir.” - -“Dubious is no word for it, Jeeves. I hadn’t a scrap of faith in the -idea from the start. When you first mooted it, I said it was rotten, -and I was right. I’m not blaming you, Jeeves. It is not your fault that -you have sprained your brain. But after this--forgive me if I hurt your -feelings, Jeeves----I shall know better than to allow you to handle any -but the simplest and most elementary problems. It is best to be candid -about this, don’t you think? Kindest to be frank and straightforward?” - -“Certainly, sir.” - -“I mean, the surgeon’s knife, what?” - -“Precisely, sir.” - -“I consider----” - -“If you will pardon me for interrupting you, sir, I fancy Mrs. Travers -is endeavouring to attract your attention.” - -And at this moment a ringing “Hoy!” which could have proceeded only -from the relative in question, assured me that his view was correct. - -“Just step this way a moment, Attila, if you don’t mind,” boomed that -well-known--and under certain conditions, well-loved--voice, and I -moved over. - -I was not feeling unmixedly at my ease. For the first time it was -beginning to steal upon me that I had not prepared a really good story -in support of my questionable behaviour in ringing fire bells at such -an hour, and I have known Aunt Dahlia to express herself with a hearty -freedom upon far smaller provocation. - -She exhibited, however, no signs of violence. More a sort of frozen -calm, if you know what I mean. You could see that she was a woman who -had suffered. - -“Well, Bertie, dear,” she said, “here we all are.” - -“Quite,” I replied guardedly. - -“Nobody missing, is there?” - -“I don’t think so.” - -“Splendid. So much healthier for us out in the open like this than -frowsting in bed. I had just dropped off when you did your bell-ringing -act. For it was you, my sweet child, who rang that bell, was it not?” - -“I did ring the bell, yes.” - -“Any particular reason, or just a whim?” - -“I thought there was a fire.” - -“What gave you that impression, dear?” - -“I thought I saw flames.” - -“Where, darling? Tell Aunt Dahlia.” - -“In one of the windows.” - -“I see. So we have all been dragged out of bed and scared rigid because -you have been seeing things.” - -Here Uncle Tom made a noise like a cork coming out of a bottle, and -Anatole, whose moustache had hit a new low, said something about “some -apes” and, if I am not mistaken, a “_rogommier_”--whatever that is. - -“I admit I was mistaken. I am sorry.” - -“Don’t apologize, ducky. Can’t you see how pleased we all are? What -were you doing out here, anyway?” - -“Just taking a stroll.” - -“I see. And are you proposing to continue your stroll?” - -“No, I think I’ll go in now.” - -“That’s fine. Because I was thinking of going in, too, and I don’t -believe I could sleep knowing you were out here giving rein to that -powerful imagination of yours. The next thing that would happen -would be that you would think you saw a pink elephant sitting on the -drawing-room window-sill and start throwing bricks at it.... Well, come -on, Tom, the entertainment seems to be over.... But wait. The newt king -wishes a word with us.... Yes, Mr. Fink-Nottle?” - -Gussie, as he joined our little group, seemed upset about something. - -“I say!” - -“Say on, Augustus.” - -“I say, what are we going to do?” - -“Speaking for myself, I intend to return to bed.” - -“But the door’s shut.” - -“What door?” - -“The front door. Somebody must have shut it.” - -“Then I shall open it.” - -“But it won’t open.” - -“Then I shall try another door.” - -“But all the other doors are shut.” - -“What? Who shut them?” - -“I don’t know.” - -I advanced a theory! - -“The wind?” - -Aunt Dahlia’s eyes met mine. - -“Don’t try me too high,” she begged. “Not now, precious.” And, indeed, -even as I spoke, it did strike me that the night was pretty still. - -Uncle Tom said we must get in through a window. Aunt Dahlia sighed a -bit. - -“How? Could Lloyd George do it, could Winston do it, could Baldwin do -it? No. Not since you had those bars of yours put on.” - -“Well, well, well. God bless my soul, ring the bell, then.” - -“The fire bell?” - -“The door bell.” - -“To what end, Thomas? There’s nobody in the house. The servants are all -at Kingham.” - -“But, confound it all, we can’t stop out here all night.” - -“Can’t we? You just watch us. There is nothing--literally -nothing--which a country house party can’t do with Attila here -operating on the premises. Seppings presumably took the back-door key -with him. We must just amuse ourselves till he comes back.” - -Tuppy made a suggestion: - -“Why not take out one of the cars and drive over to Kingham and get the -key from Seppings?” - -It went well. No question about that. For the first time, a smile lit -up Aunt Dahlia’s drawn face. Uncle Tom grunted approvingly. Anatole -said something in Provençal that sounded complimentary. And I thought I -detected even on Angela’s map a slight softening. - -“A very excellent idea,” said Aunt Dahlia. “One of the best. Nip round -to the garage at once.” - -After Tuppy had gone, some extremely flattering things were said about -his intelligence and resource, and there was a disposition to draw -rather invidious comparisons between him and Bertram. Painful for me, -of course, but the ordeal didn’t last long, for it couldn’t have been -more than five minutes before he was with us again. - -Tuppy seemed perturbed. - -“I say, it’s all off.” - -“Why?” - -“The garage is locked.” - -“Unlock it.” - -“I haven’t the key.” - -“Shout, then, and wake Waterbury.” - -“Who’s Waterbury?” - -“The chauffeur, ass. He sleeps over the garage.” - -“But he’s gone to the dance at Kingham.” - -It was the final wallop. Until this moment, Aunt Dahlia had been able -to preserve her frozen calm. The dam now burst. The years rolled -away from her, and she was once more the Dahlia Wooster of the old -yoicks-and-tantivy days--the emotional, free-speaking girl who had so -often risen in her stirrups to yell derogatory personalities at people -who were heading hounds. - -“Curse all dancing chauffeurs! What on earth does a chauffeur want -to dance for? I mistrusted that man from the start. Something told -me he was a dancer. Well, this finishes it. We’re out here till -breakfast-time. If those blasted servants come back before eight -o’clock, I shall be vastly surprised. You won’t get Seppings away from -a dance till you throw him out. I know him. The jazz’ll go to his head, -and he’ll stand clapping and demanding encores till his hands blister. -Damn all dancing butlers! What is Brinkley Court? A respectable English -country house or a crimson dancing school? One might as well be living -in the middle of the Russian Ballet. Well, all right. If we must stay -out here, we must. We shall all be frozen stiff, except”--here she -directed at me not one of her friendliest glances----“except dear -old Attila, who is, I observe, well and warmly clad. We will resign -ourselves to the prospect of freezing to death like the Babes in the -Wood, merely expressing a dying wish that our old pal Attila will see -that we are covered with leaves. No doubt he will also toll that fire -bell of his as a mark of respect--And what might you want, my good man?” - -She broke off, and stood glaring at Jeeves. During the latter portion -of her address, he had been standing by in a respectful manner, -endeavouring to catch the speaker’s eye. - -“If I might make a suggestion, madam.” - -I am not saying that in the course of our long association I have -always found myself able to view Jeeves with approval. There are -aspects of his character which have frequently caused coldnesses to -arise between us. He is one of those fellows who, if you give them a -thingummy, take a what-d’you-call-it. His work is often raw, and he has -been known to allude to me as “mentally negligible”. More than once, as -I have shown, it has been my painful task to squelch in him a tendency -to get uppish and treat the young master as a serf or peon. - -These are grave defects. - -But one thing I have never failed to hand the man. He is magnetic. -There is about him something that seems to soothe and hypnotize. To the -best of my knowledge, he has never encountered a charging rhinoceros, -but should this contingency occur, I have no doubt that the animal, -meeting his eye, would check itself in mid-stride, roll over and lie -purring with its legs in the air. - -At any rate he calmed down Aunt Dahlia, the nearest thing to a charging -rhinoceros, in under five seconds. He just stood there looking -respectful, and though I didn’t time the thing--not having a stop-watch -on me--I should say it wasn’t more than three seconds and a quarter -before her whole manner underwent an astounding change for the better. -She melted before one’s eyes. - -“Jeeves! You haven’t got an idea?” - -“Yes, madam.” - -“That great brain of yours has really clicked as ever in the hour of -need?” - -“Yes, madam.” - -“Jeeves,” said Aunt Dahlia in a shaking voice, “I am sorry I spoke so -abruptly. I was not myself. I might have known that you would not come -simply trying to make conversation. Tell us this idea of yours, Jeeves. -Join our little group of thinkers and let us hear what you have to -say. Make yourself at home, Jeeves, and give us the good word. Can you -really get us out of this mess?” - -“Yes, madam, if one of the gentlemen would be willing to ride a -bicycle.” - -“A bicycle?” - -“There is a bicycle in the gardener’s shed in the kitchen garden, -madam. Possibly one of the gentlemen might feel disposed to ride over -to Kingham Manor and procure the back-door key from Mr. Seppings.” - -“Splendid, Jeeves!” - -“Thank you, madam.” - -“Wonderful!” - -“Thank you, madam.” - -“Attila!” said Aunt Dahlia, turning and speaking in a quiet, -authoritative manner. - -I had been expecting it. From the very moment those ill-judged -words had passed the fellow’s lips, I had had a presentiment that a -determined effort would be made to elect me as the goat, and I braced -myself to resist and obstruct. - -And as I was about to do so, while I was in the very act of summoning -up all my eloquence to protest that I didn’t know how to ride a bike -and couldn’t possibly learn in the brief time at my disposal, I’m -dashed if the man didn’t go and nip me in the bud. - -“Yes, madam, Mr. Wooster would perform the task admirably. He is an -expert cyclist. He has often boasted to me of his triumphs on the -wheel.” - -I hadn’t. I hadn’t done anything of the sort. It’s simply monstrous -how one’s words get twisted. All I had ever done was to mention to -him--casually, just as an interesting item of information, one day in -New York when we were watching the six-day bicycle race--that at the -age of fourteen, while spending my holidays with a vicar of sorts who -had been told off to teach me Latin, I had won the Choir Boys’ Handicap -at the local school treat. - -A different thing from boasting of one’s triumphs on the wheel. - -I mean, he was a man of the world and must have known that the form of -school treats is never of the hottest. And, if I’m not mistaken, I had -specifically told him that on the occasion referred to I had received -half a lap start and that Willie Punting, the odds-on favourite to whom -the race was expected to be a gift, had been forced to retire, owing -to having pinched his elder brother’s machine without asking the elder -brother, and the elder brother coming along just as the pistol went -and giving him one on the side of the head and taking it away from -him, thus rendering him a scratched-at-the-post non-starter. Yet, from -the way he talked, you would have thought I was one of those chaps in -sweaters with medals all over them, whose photographs bob up from time -to time in the illustrated press on the occasion of their having ridden -from Hyde Park Corner to Glasgow in three seconds under the hour, or -whatever it is. - -And as if this were not bad enough, Tuppy had to shove his oar in. - -“That’s right,” said Tuppy. “Bertie has always been a great cyclist. I -remember at Oxford he used to take all his clothes off on bump-supper -nights and ride around the quad, singing comic songs. Jolly fast he -used to go too.” - -“Then he can go jolly fast now,” said Aunt Dahlia with animation. “He -can’t go too fast for me. He may also sing comic songs, if he likes.... -And if you wish to take your clothes off, Bertie, my lamb, by all means -do so. But whether clothed or in the nude, whether singing comic songs -or not singing comic songs, get a move on.” - -I found speech: - -“But I haven’t ridden for years.” - -“Then it’s high time you began again.” - -“I’ve probably forgotten how to ride.” - -“You’ll soon get the knack after you’ve taken a toss or two. Trial and -error. The only way.” - -“But it’s miles to Kingham.” - -“So the sooner you’re off, the better.” - -“But----” - -“Bertie, dear.” - -“But, dash it----” - -“Bertie, darling.” - -“Yes, but dash it----” - -“Bertie, my sweet.” - -And so it was arranged. Presently I was moving sombrely off through the -darkness, Jeeves at my side, Aunt Dahlia calling after me something -about trying to imagine myself the man who brought the good news from -Ghent to Aix. The first I had heard of the chap. - -“So, Jeeves,” I said, as we reached the shed, and my voice was cold -and bitter, “this is what your great scheme has accomplished! Tuppy, -Angela, Gussie and the Bassett not on speaking terms, and self faced -with an eight-mile ride----” - -“Nine, I believe, sir.” - -“--a nine-mile ride, and another nine-mile ride back.” - -“I am sorry, sir.” - -“No good being sorry now. Where is this foul bone-shaker?” - -“I will bring it out, sir.” - -He did so. I eyed it sourly. - -“Where’s the lamp?” - -“I fear there is no lamp, sir.” - -“No lamp?” - -“No, sir.” - -“But I may come a fearful stinker without a lamp. Suppose I barge into -something.” - -I broke off and eyed him frigidly. - -“You smile, Jeeves. The thought amuses you?” - -“I beg your pardon, sir. I was thinking of a tale my Uncle Cyril used -to tell me as a child. An absurd little story, sir, though I confess -that I have always found it droll. According to my Uncle Cyril, two -men named Nicholls and Jackson set out to ride to Brighton on a tandem -bicycle, and were so unfortunate as to come into collision with a -brewer’s van. And when the rescue party arrived on the scene of the -accident, it was discovered that they had been hurled together with -such force that it was impossible to sort them out at all adequately. -The keenest eye could not discern which portion of the fragments was -Nicholls and which Jackson. So they collected as much as they could, -and called it Nixon. I remember laughing very much at that story when I -was a child, sir.” - -I had to pause a moment to master my feelings. - -“You did, eh?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“You thought it funny?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And your Uncle Cyril thought it funny?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Golly, what a family! Next time you meet your Uncle Cyril, Jeeves, you -can tell him from me that his sense of humour is morbid and unpleasant.” - -“He is dead, sir.” - -“Thank heaven for that.... Well, give me the blasted machine.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -“Are the tyres inflated?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“The nuts firm, the brakes in order, the sprockets running true with -the differential gear?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Right ho, Jeeves.” - -In Tuppy’s statement that, when at the University of Oxford, I had been -known to ride a bicycle in the nude about the quadrangle of our mutual -college, there had been, I cannot deny, a certain amount of substance. -Correct, however, though his facts were, so far as they went, he had -not told all. What he had omitted to mention was that I had invariably -been well oiled at the time, and when in that condition a chap is -capable of feats at which in cooler moments his reason would rebel. - -Stimulated by the juice, I believe, men have even been known to ride -alligators. - -As I started now to pedal out into the great world, I was icily sober, -and the old skill, in consequence, had deserted me entirely. I found -myself wobbling badly, and all the stories I had ever heard of nasty -bicycle accidents came back to me with a rush, headed by Jeeves’s Uncle -Cyril’s cheery little anecdote about Nicholls and Jackson. - -Pounding wearily through the darkness, I found myself at a loss to -fathom the mentality of men like Jeeves’s Uncle Cyril. What on earth -he could see funny in a disaster which had apparently involved the -complete extinction of a human creature--or, at any rate, of half a -human creature and half another human creature--was more than I could -understand. To me, the thing was one of the most poignant tragedies -that had ever been brought to my attention, and I have no doubt that -I should have continued to brood over it for quite a time, had my -thoughts not been diverted by the sudden necessity of zigzagging -sharply in order to avoid a pig in the fairway. - -For a moment it looked like being real Nicholls-and-Jackson stuff, but, -fortunately, a quick zig on my part, coinciding with an adroit zag on -the part of the pig, enabled me to win through, and I continued my ride -safe, but with the heart fluttering like a captive bird. - -The effect of this narrow squeak upon me was to shake the nerve to the -utmost. The fact that pigs were abroad in the night seemed to bring -home to me the perilous nature of my enterprise. It set me thinking -of all the other things that could happen to a man out and about on -a velocipede without a lamp after lighting-up time. In particular, I -recalled the statement of a pal of mine that in certain sections of the -rural districts goats were accustomed to stray across the road to the -extent of their chains, thereby forming about as sound a booby trap as -one could well wish. - -He mentioned, I remember, the case of a friend of his whose machine -got entangled with a goat chain and who was dragged seven miles--like -skijoring in Switzerland--so that he was never the same man again. -And there was one chap who ran into an elephant, left over from a -travelling circus. - -Indeed, taking it for all in all, it seemed to me that, with the -possible exception of being bitten by sharks, there was virtually no -front-page disaster that could not happen to a fellow, once he had -allowed his dear ones to override his better judgment and shove him out -into the great unknown on a push-bike, and I am not ashamed to confess -that, taking it by and large, the amount of quailing I did from this -point on was pretty considerable. - -However, in respect to goats and elephants, I must say things panned -out unexpectedly well. - -Oddly enough, I encountered neither. But when you have said that you -have said everything, for in every other way the conditions could -scarcely have been fouler. - -Apart from the ceaseless anxiety of having to keep an eye skinned -for elephants, I found myself much depressed by barking dogs, and -once I received a most unpleasant shock when, alighting to consult a -signpost, I saw sitting on top of it an owl that looked exactly like my -Aunt Agatha. So agitated, indeed, had my frame of mind become by this -time that I thought at first it was Aunt Agatha, and only when reason -and reflection told me how alien to her habits it would be to climb -signposts and sit on them, could I pull myself together and overcome -the weakness. - -In short, what with all this mental disturbance added to the more -purely physical anguish in the billowy portions and the calves and -ankles, the Bertram Wooster who eventually toppled off at the door of -Kingham Manor was a very different Bertram from the gay and insouciant -_boulevardier_ of Bond Street and Piccadilly. - -Even to one unaware of the inside facts, it would have been evident -that Kingham Manor was throwing its weight about a bit tonight. Lights -shone in the windows, music was in the air, and as I drew nearer my -ear detected the sibilant shuffling of the feet of butlers, footmen, -chauffeurs, parlourmaids, housemaids, tweenies and, I have no doubt, -cooks, who were busily treading the measure. I suppose you couldn’t sum -it up much better than by saying that there was a sound of revelry by -night. - -The orgy was taking place in one of the ground-floor rooms which had -French windows opening on to the drive, and it was to these French -windows that I now made my way. An orchestra was playing something -with a good deal of zip to it, and under happier conditions I dare say -my feet would have started twitching in time to the melody. But I had -sterner work before me than to stand hoofing it by myself on gravel -drives. - -I wanted that back-door key, and I wanted it instanter. - -Scanning the throng within, I found it difficult for a while to spot -Seppings. Presently, however, he hove in view, doing fearfully lissom -things in mid-floor. I “Hi-Seppings!”-ed a couple of times, but his -mind was too much on his job to be diverted, and it was only when the -swirl of the dance had brought him within prodding distance of my -forefinger that a quick one to the lower ribs enabled me to claim his -attention. - -The unexpected buffet caused him to trip over his partner’s feet, and -it was with marked austerity that he turned. As he recognized Bertram, -however, coldness melted, to be replaced by astonishment. - -“Mr. Wooster!” - -I was in no mood for bandying words. - -“Less of the ‘Mr. Wooster’ and more back-door keys,” I said curtly. -“Give me the key of the back door, Seppings.” - -He did not seem to grasp the gist. - -“The key of the back door, sir?” - -“Precisely. The Brinkley Court back-door key.” - -“But it is at the Court, sir.” - -I clicked the tongue, annoyed. - -“Don’t be frivolous, my dear old butler,” I said. “I haven’t ridden -nine miles on a push-bike to listen to you trying to be funny. You’ve -got it in your trousers pocket.” - -“No, sir. I left it with Mr. Jeeves.” - -“You did--what?” - -“Yes, sir. Before I came away. Mr. Jeeves said that he wished to walk -in the garden before retiring for the night. He was to place the key on -the kitchen window-sill.” - -I stared at the man dumbly. His eye was clear, his hand steady. He had -none of the appearance of a butler who has had a couple. - -“You mean that all this while the key has been in Jeeves’s -possession?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -I could speak no more. Emotion had overmastered my voice. I was at -a loss and not abreast; but of one thing, it seemed to me, there -could be no doubt. For some reason, not to be fathomed now, but most -certainly to be gone well into as soon as I had pushed this infernal -sewing-machine of mine over those nine miles of lonely, country road -and got within striking distance of him, Jeeves had been doing the -dirty. Knowing that at any given moment he could have solved the whole -situation, he had kept Aunt Dahlia and others roosting out on the front -lawn _en déshabille_ and, worse still, had stood calmly by and watched -his young employer set out on a wholly unnecessary eighteen-mile -bicycle ride. - -I could scarcely believe such a thing of him. Of his Uncle Cyril, yes. -With that distorted sense of humour of his, Uncle Cyril might quite -conceivably have been capable of such conduct. But that it should be -Jeeves-- - -I leaped into the saddle and, stifling the cry of agony which rose to -the lips as the bruised person touched the hard leather, set out on the -homeward journey. - - - - --23- - - -I remember Jeeves saying on one occasion--I forgot how the subject -had arisen--he may simply have thrown the observation out, as he does -sometimes, for me to take or leave--that hell hath no fury like a -woman scorned. And until tonight I had always felt that there was a -lot in it. I had never scorned a woman myself, but Pongo Twistleton -once scorned an aunt of his, flatly refusing to meet her son Gerald at -Paddington and give him lunch and see him off to school at Waterloo, -and he never heard the end of it. Letters were written, he tells me, -which had to be seen to be believed. Also two very strong telegrams -and a bitter picture post card with a view of the Little Chilbury War -Memorial on it. - -Until tonight, therefore, as I say, I had never questioned the accuracy -of the statement. Scorned women first and the rest nowhere, was how it -had always seemed to me. - -But tonight I revised my views. If you want to know what hell can -really do in the way of furies, look for the chap who has been -hornswoggled into taking a long and unnecessary bicycle ride in the -dark without a lamp. - -Mark that word “unnecessary”. That was the part of it that really -jabbed the iron into the soul. I mean, if it was a case of riding to -the doctor’s to save the child with croup, or going off to the local -pub to fetch supplies in the event of the cellar having run dry, no -one would leap to the handlebars more readily than I. Young Lochinvar, -absolutely. But this business of being put through it merely to gratify -one’s personal attendant’s diseased sense of the amusing was a bit too -thick, and I chafed from start to finish. - -So, what I mean to say, although the providence which watches over -good men saw to it that I was enabled to complete the homeward journey -unscathed except in the billowy portions, removing from my path all -goats, elephants, and even owls that looked like my Aunt Agatha, it -was a frowning and jaundiced Bertram who finally came to anchor at the -Brinkley Court front door. And when I saw a dark figure emerging from -the porch to meet me, I prepared to let myself go and uncork all that -was fizzing in the mind. - -“Jeeves!” I said. - -“It is I, Bertie.” - -The voice which spoke sounded like warm treacle, and even if I had not -recognized it immediately as that of the Bassett, I should have known -that it did not proceed from the man I was yearning to confront. For -this figure before me was wearing a simple tweed dress and had employed -my first name in its remarks. And Jeeves, whatever his moral defects, -would never go about in skirts calling me Bertie. - -The last person, of course, whom I would have wished to meet after a -long evening in the saddle, but I vouchsafed a courteous “What ho!” - -There was a pause, during which I massaged the calves. Mine, of course, -I mean. - -“You got in, then?” I said, in allusion to the change of costume. - -“Oh, yes. About a quarter of an hour after you left Jeeves went -searching about and found the back-door key on the kitchen window-sill.” - -“Ha!” - -“What?” - -“Nothing.” - -“I thought you said something.” - -“No, nothing.” - -And I continued to do so. For at this juncture, as had so often -happened when this girl and I were closeted, the conversation once -more went blue on us. The night breeze whispered, but not the Bassett. -A bird twittered, but not so much as a chirp escaped Bertram. It was -perfectly amazing, the way her mere presence seemed to wipe speech from -my lips--and mine, for that matter, from hers. It began to look as if -our married life together would be rather like twenty years among the -Trappist monks. - -“Seen Jeeves anywhere?” I asked, eventually coming through. - -“Yes, in the dining-room.” - -“The dining-room?” - -“Waiting on everybody. They are having eggs and bacon and champagne.... -What did you say?” - -I had said nothing--merely snorted. There was something about the -thought of these people carelessly revelling at a time when, for all -they knew, I was probably being dragged about the countryside by goats -or chewed by elephants, that struck home at me like a poisoned dart. -It was the sort of thing you read about as having happened just before -the French Revolution--the haughty nobles in their castles callously -digging in and quaffing while the unfortunate blighters outside were -suffering frightful privations. - -The voice of the Bassett cut in on these mordant reflections: - -“Bertie.” - -“Hullo!” - -Silence. - -“Hullo!” I said again. - -No response. Whole thing rather like one of those telephone -conversations where you sit at your end of the wire saying: “Hullo! -Hullo!” unaware that the party of the second part has gone off to tea. - -Eventually, however, she came to the surface again: - -“Bertie, I have something to say to you.” - -“What?” - -“I have something to say to you.” - -“I know. I said ‘What?’” - -“Oh, I thought you didn’t hear what I said.” - -“Yes, I heard what you said, all right, but not what you were going to -say.” - -“Oh, I see.” - -“Right-ho.” - -So that was straightened out. Nevertheless, instead of proceeding she -took time off once more. She stood twisting the fingers and scratching -the gravel with her foot. When finally she spoke, it was to deliver an -impressive boost: - -“Bertie, do you read Tennyson?” - -“Not if I can help.” - -“You remind me so much of those Knights of the Round Table in the -‘Idylls of the King’.” - -Of course I had heard of them--Lancelot, Galahad and all that lot, but -I didn’t see where the resemblance came in. It seemed to me that she -must be thinking of a couple of other fellows. - -“How do you mean?” - -“You have such a great heart, such a fine soul. You are so generous, so -unselfish, so chivalrous. I have always felt that about you--that you -are one of the few really chivalrous men I have ever met.” - -Well, dashed difficult, of course, to know what to say when someone is -giving you the old oil on a scale like that. I muttered an “Oh, yes?” -or something on those lines, and rubbed the billowy portions in some -embarrassment. And there was another silence, broken only by a sharp -howl as I rubbed a bit too hard. - -“Bertie.” - -“Hullo?” - -I heard her give a sort of gulp. - -“Bertie, will you be chivalrous now?” - -“Rather. Only too pleased. How do you mean?” - -“I am going to try you to the utmost. I am going to test you as few men -have ever been tested. I am going----” - -I didn’t like the sound of this. - -“Well,” I said doubtfully, “always glad to oblige, you know, but I’ve -just had the dickens of a bicycle ride, and I’m a bit stiff and sore, -especially in the--as I say, a bit stiff and sore. If it’s anything to -be fetched from upstairs----” - -“No, no, you don’t understand.” - -“I don’t, quite, no.” - -“Oh, it’s so difficult.... How can I say it?... Can’t you guess?” - -“No. I’m dashed if I can.” - -“Bertie--let me go!” - -“But I haven’t got hold of you.” - -“Release me!” - -“Re----” - -And then I suddenly got it. I suppose it was fatigue that had made me -so slow to apprehend the nub. - -“What?” - -I staggered, and the left pedal came up and caught me on the shin. But -such was the ecstasy in the soul that I didn’t utter a cry. - -“Release you?” - -“Yes.” - -I didn’t want any confusion on the point. - -“You mean you want to call it all off? You’re going to hitch up with -Gussie, after all?” - -“Only if you are fine and big enough to consent.” - -“Oh, I am.” - -“I gave you my promise.” - -“Dash promises.” - -“Then you really----” - -“Absolutely.” - -“Oh, Bertie!” - -She seemed to sway like a sapling. It is saplings that sway, I believe. - -“A very parfait knight!” I heard her murmur, and there not being much -to say after that, I excused myself on the ground that I had got about -two pecks of dust down my back and would like to go and get my maid to -put me into something loose. - -“You go back to Gussie,” I said, “and tell him that all is well.” - -She gave a sort of hiccup and, darting forward, kissed me on the -forehead. Unpleasant, of course, but, as Anatole would say, I can take -a few smooths with a rough. The next moment she was legging it for the -dining-room, while I, having bunged the bicycle into a bush, made for -the stairs. - -I need not dwell upon my buckedness. It can be readily imagined. Talk -about chaps with the noose round their necks and the hangman about to -let her go and somebody galloping up on a foaming horse, waving the -reprieve--not in it. Absolutely not in it at all. I don’t know that I -can give you a better idea of the state of my feelings than by saying -that as I started to cross the hall I was conscious of so profound a -benevolence toward all created things that I found myself thinking -kindly thoughts even of Jeeves. - -I was about to mount the stairs when a sudden “What ho!” from my rear -caused me to turn. Tuppy was standing in the hall. He had apparently -been down to the cellar for reinforcements, for there were a couple of -bottles under his arm. - -“Hullo, Bertie,” he said. “You back?” He laughed amusedly. “You look -like the Wreck of the Hesperus. Get run over by a steam-roller or -something?” - -At any other time I might have found his coarse badinage hard to bear. -But such was my uplifted mood that I waved it aside and slipped him the -good news. - -“Tuppy, old man, the Bassett’s going to marry Gussie Fink-Nottle.” - -“Tough luck on both of them, what?” - -“But don’t you understand? Don’t you see what this means? It means that -Angela is once more out of pawn, and you have only to play your cards -properly----” - -He bellowed rollickingly. I saw now that he was in the pink. As a -matter of fact, I had noticed something of the sort directly I met him, -but had attributed it to alcoholic stimulant. - -“Good Lord! You’re right behind the times, Bertie. Only to be expected, -of course, if you will go riding bicycles half the night. Angela and I -made it up hours ago.” - -“What?” - -“Certainly. Nothing but a passing tiff. All you need in these matters -is a little give and take, a bit of reasonableness on both sides. We -got together and talked things over. She withdrew my double chin. I -conceded her shark. Perfectly simple. All done in a couple of minutes.” - -“But----” - -“Sorry, Bertie. Can’t stop chatting with you all night. There is a -rather impressive beano in progress in the dining-room, and they are -waiting for supplies.” - -Endorsement was given to this statement by a sudden shout from the -apartment named. I recognized--as who would not--Aunt Dahlia’s voice: - -“Glossop!” - -“Hullo?” - -“Hurry up with that stuff.” - -“Coming, coming.” - -“Well, come, then. Yoicks! Hard for-rard!” - -“Tallyho, not to mention tantivy. Your aunt,” said Tuppy, “is a bit -above herself. I don’t know all the facts of the case, but it appears -that Anatole gave notice and has now consented to stay on, and also -your uncle has given her a cheque for that paper of hers. I didn’t get -the details, but she is much braced. See you later. I must rush.” - -To say that Bertram was now definitely nonplussed would be but to state -the simple truth. I could make nothing of this. I had left Brinkley -Court a stricken home, with hearts bleeding wherever you looked, and I -had returned to find it a sort of earthly paradise. It baffled me. - -I bathed bewilderedly. The toy duck was still in the soap-dish, but I -was too preoccupied to give it a thought. Still at a loss, I returned -to my room, and there was Jeeves. And it is proof of my fogged condish -that my first words to him were words not of reproach and stern -recrimination but of inquiry: - -“I say, Jeeves!” - -“Good evening, sir. I was informed that you had returned. I trust you -had an enjoyable ride.” - -At any other moment, a crack like that would have woken the fiend in -Bertram Wooster. I barely noticed it. I was intent on getting to the -bottom of this mystery. - -“But I say, Jeeves, what?” - -“Sir?” - -“What does all this mean?” - -“You refer, sir----” - -“Of course I refer. You know what I’m talking about. What has been -happening here since I left? The place is positively stiff with happy -endings.” - -“Yes, sir. I am glad to say that my efforts have been rewarded.” - -“What do you mean, your efforts? You aren’t going to try to make out -that that rotten fire bell scheme of yours had anything to do with it?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Don’t be an ass, Jeeves. It flopped.” - -“Not altogether, sir. I fear, sir, that I was not entirely frank with -regard to my suggestion of ringing the fire bell. I had not really -anticipated that it would in itself produce the desired results. I had -intended it merely as a preliminary to what I might describe as the -real business of the evening.” - -“You gibber, Jeeves.” - -“No, sir. It was essential that the ladies and gentlemen should be -brought from the house, in order that, once out of doors, I could -ensure that they remained there for the necessary period of time.” - -“How do you mean?” - -“My plan was based on psychology, sir.” - -“How?” - -“It is a recognized fact, sir, that there is nothing that so -satisfactorily unites individuals who have been so unfortunate as to -quarrel amongst themselves as a strong mutual dislike for some definite -person. In my own family, if I may give a homely illustration, it was a -generally accepted axiom that in times of domestic disagreement it was -necessary only to invite my Aunt Annie for a visit to heal all breaches -between the other members of the household. In the mutual animosity -excited by Aunt Annie, those who had become estranged were reconciled -almost immediately. Remembering this, it occurred to me that were you, -sir, to be established as the person responsible for the ladies and -gentlemen being forced to spend the night in the garden, everybody -would take so strong a dislike to you that in this common sympathy they -would sooner or later come together.” - -I would have spoken, but he continued: - -“And such proved to be the case. All, as you see, sir, is now well. -After your departure on the bicycle, the various estranged parties -agreed so heartily in their abuse of you that the ice, if I may use -the expression, was broken, and it was not long before Mr. Glossop -was walking beneath the trees with Miss Angela, telling her anecdotes -of your career at the university in exchange for hers regarding your -childhood; while Mr. Fink-Nottle, leaning against the sundial, held -Miss Bassett enthralled with stories of your schooldays. Mrs. Travers, -meanwhile, was telling Monsieur Anatole----” - -I found speech. - -“Oh?” I said. “I see. And now, I suppose, as the result of this dashed -psychology of yours, Aunt Dahlia is so sore with me that it will be -years before I can dare to show my face here again--years, Jeeves, -during which, night after night, Anatole will be cooking those dinners -of his----” - -“No, sir. It was to prevent any such contingency that I suggested that -you should bicycle to Kingham Manor. When I informed the ladies and -gentlemen that I had found the key, and it was borne in upon them that -you were having that long ride for nothing, their animosity vanished -immediately, to be replaced by cordial amusement. There was much -laughter.” - -“There was, eh?” - -“Yes, sir. I fear you may possibly have to submit to a certain amount -of good-natured chaff, but nothing more. All, if I may say so, is -forgiven, sir.” - -“Oh?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -I mused awhile. - -“You certainly seem to have fixed things.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Tuppy and Angela are once more betrothed. Also Gussie and the Bassett; -Uncle Tom appears to have coughed up that money for _Milady’s Boudoir_. -And Anatole is staying on.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“I suppose you might say that all’s well that ends well.” - -“Very apt, sir.” - -I mused again. - -“All the same, your methods are a bit rough, Jeeves.” - -“One cannot make an omelette without breaking eggs, sir.” - -I started. - -“Omelette! Do you think you could get me one?” - -“Certainly, sir.” - -“Together with half a bot. of something?” - -“Undoubtedly, sir.” - -“Do so, Jeeves, and with all speed.” - -I climbed into bed and sank back against the pillows. I must say that -my generous wrath had ebbed a bit. I was aching the whole length of my -body, particularly toward the middle, but against this you had to set -the fact that I was no longer engaged to Madeline Bassett. In a good -cause one is prepared to suffer. Yes, looking at the thing from every -angle, I saw that Jeeves had done well, and it was with an approving -beam that I welcomed him as he returned with the needful. - -He did not check up with this beam. A bit grave, he seemed to me to be -looking, and I probed the matter with a kindly query: - -“Something on your mind, Jeeves?” - -“Yes, sir. I should have mentioned it earlier, but in the evening’s -disturbance it escaped my memory, I fear I have been remiss, sir.” - -“Yes, Jeeves?” I said, champing contentedly. - -“In the matter of your mess-jacket, sir.” - -A nameless fear shot through me, causing me to swallow a mouthful of -omelette the wrong way. - -“I am sorry to say, sir, that while I was ironing it this afternoon I -was careless enough to leave the hot instrument upon it. I very much -fear that it will be impossible for you to wear it again, sir.” - -One of those old pregnant silences filled the room. - -“I am extremely sorry, sir.” - -For a moment, I confess, that generous wrath of mine came bounding -back, hitching up its muscles and snorting a bit through the nose, but, -as we say on the Riviera, _à quoi sert-il_? There was nothing to be -gained by g.w. now. - -We Woosters can bite the bullet. I nodded moodily and speared another -slab of omelette. - -“Right ho, Jeeves.” - -“Very good, sir.” - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10554 *** |