RIGHT HO, JEEVES

By

P. G. WODEHOUSE

1922

To

RAYMOND NEEDHAM, K. C. 

WITH AFFECTION AND ADMIRATION

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"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 alwayscome up against when I'm telling a story is this dashed difficult problemof 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 toolong at the start, trying to establish atmosphere, as they call it, andall 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 publicis at a loss. It simply raises its eyebrows, and can't make out whatyou'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 ofdialogue, 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 andweighing this against that, I suppose the affair may be said to have hadits inception, if inception is the word I want, with that visit of mineto Cannes. If I hadn't gone to Cannes, I shouldn't have met the Bassettor 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 didnot wish to miss Ascot--round about the beginning of June. With metravelled my Aunt Dahlia and her daughter Angela. Tuppy Glossop, Angela'sbetrothed, was to have been of the party, but at the last moment couldn'tget away. Uncle Tom, Aunt Dahlia's husband, remained at home, because hecan't stick the South of France at any price. 

So there you have the layout--Aunt Dahlia, Cousin Angela and self off toCannes 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 AuntDahlia lost her shirt at baccarat and Angela nearly got inhaled by ashark while aquaplaning, a pleasant time was had by all. 

On July the twenty-fifth, looking bronzed and fit, I accompanied aunt andchild back to London. At seven p. M. On July the twenty-sixth we alightedat Victoria. And at seven-twenty or thereabouts we parted with mutualexpressions of esteem--they to shove off in Aunt Dahlia's car to BrinkleyCourt, her place in Worcestershire, where they were expecting toentertain 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 roundto the Drones for a bite of dinner. 

And it was while I was at the flat, towelling the torso after amuch-needed rinse, that Jeeves, as we chatted of this and that--pickingup the threads, as it were--suddenly brought the name of GussieFink-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 phoningor 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 givecredence to his statement. This Fink-Nottle, you see, was one of thosefreaks you come across from time to time during life's journey who can'tstand London. He lived year in and year out, covered with moss, in aremote village down in Lincolnshire, never coming up even for the Etonand Harrow match. And when I asked him once if he didn't find the timehang a bit heavy on his hands, he said, no, because he had a pond in hisgarden 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 newtsdidn'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 hewas in London. He makes no secret of the fact that the place gives himthe pip. Until now, he has always stayed glued to the country, completelysurrounded by newts. "

"Sir?"

"Newts, Jeeves. Mr. Fink-Nottle has a strong newt complex. You must haveheard of newts. Those little sort of lizard things that charge about inponds. "

"Oh, yes, sir. The aquatic members of the family Salamandridae whichconstitute the genus Molge. "

"That's right. Well, Gussie has always been a slave to them. He used tokeep them at school. "

"I believe young gentlemen frequently do, sir. "

"He kept them in his study in a kind of glass-tank arrangement, andpretty niffy the whole thing was, I recall. I suppose one ought to havebeen able to see what the end would be even then, but you know what boysare. Careless, heedless, busy about our own affairs, we scarcely gavethis kink in Gussie's character a thought. We may have exchanged anoccasional remark about it taking all sorts to make a world, but nothingmore. 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 gavehis life up to these dumb chums. I suppose he used to tell himself thathe could take them or leave them alone, and then found--too late--that hecouldn't. "

"It is often the way, sir. "

"Too true, Jeeves. At any rate, for the last five years he has beenliving at this place of his down in Lincolnshire, as confirmed aspecies-shunning hermit as ever put fresh water in the tank every secondday and refused to see a soul. That's why I was so amazed when you toldme he had suddenly risen to the surface like this. I still can't believeit. I am inclined to think that there must be some mistake, and thatthis bird who has been calling here is some different variety ofFink-Nottle. The chap I know wears horn-rimmed spectacles and has a facelike 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 broughthim up to London?"

"I am in a position to explain that, sir. Mr. Fink-Nottle confided to mehis motive in visiting the metropolis. He came because the young lady ishere. "

"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 theform book, might have fallen in love, why should he have been haunting myflat like this? No doubt the occasion was one of those when a fellowneeds 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 eachother at one time, of course, but in the last two years I hadn't had somuch 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 Iwasn'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 hehas 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 appearsthat Mr. Sipperley, a fellow student of whom Mr. Fink-Nottle had been atthe university, recommended him to place his affairs in my hands. "

The mystery had conked. I saw all. As I dare say you know, Jeeves'sreputation as a counsellor has long been established among thecognoscenti, and the first move of any of my little circle on discoveringthemselves in any form of soup is always to roll round and put the thingup to him. And when he's got A out of a bad spot, A puts B on to him. Andthen, when he has fixed up B, B sends C along. And so on, if you get mydrift, 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 atthe time when he was trying to get engaged to Elizabeth Moon, so it wasnot to be wondered at that he should have advised Gussie to apply. Pureroutine, 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 Iwas enabled to be of assistance to him. No doubt you recall Mr. Sipperley's predicament, sir. Deeply attached to Miss Moon, he sufferedfrom 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 himselfto the scratch. A marked coldness of the feet, was there not? I recollectyou 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 thoughtthat 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 isto us, Jeeves, not to shut ourselves up in country houses and stare intoglass 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 shutyourself up in a country house and stare into tanks, or you can be adasher 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 allthe 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 yearsago, it had been. I had looked in at his place while on a motor trip, andhe had put me right off my feed by bringing a couple of green things withlegs to the luncheon table, crooning over them like a young mother andeventually losing one of them in the salad. That picture, rising beforemy eyes, didn't give me much confidence in the unfortunate goof's abilityto woo and win, I must say. Especially if the girl he had earmarked wasone of these tough modern thugs, all lipstick and cool, hard, sardoniceyes, as she probably was. 

"Tell me, Jeeves, " I said, wishing to know the worst, "what sort of agirl is this girl of Gussie's?"

"I have not met the young lady, sir. Mr. Fink-Nottle speaks highly of herattractions. "

"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 thewhole thing begin to seem far more like a practical working proposition. "

"Indeed, sir?"

"Absolutely. I confess that until you supplied this information I wasfeeling profoundly dubious about poor old Gussie's chances of inducingany spinster of any parish to join him in the saunter down the aisle. Youwill 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 chapa girl like Madeline Bassett might scoop in with relish. "

This Bassett, I must explain, had been a fellow visitor of ours atCannes; and as she and Angela had struck up one of those effervescentfriendships 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 notmove 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 rightout of you. I mean to say, there is something about their personalitythat paralyses the vocal cords and reduces the contents of the brain tocauliflower. It was like that with this Bassett and me; so much so that Ihave known occasions when for minutes at a stretch Bertram Wooster mighthave been observed fumbling with the tie, shuffling the feet, andbehaving in all other respects in her presence like the complete dumbbrick. When, therefore, she took her departure some two weeks before wedid, you may readily imagine that, in Bertram's opinion, it was not a daytoo soon. 

It was not her beauty, mark you, that thus numbed me. She was a prettyenough girl in a droopy, blonde, saucer-eyed way, but not the sort ofbreath-taker that takes the breath. 

No, what caused this disintegration in a usually fairly fluent prattlerwith the sex was her whole mental attitude. I don't want to wronganybody, 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 excitethe liveliest suspicions. Well, I mean to say, when a girl suddenly asksyou out of a blue sky if you don't sometimes feel that the stars areGod's daisy-chain, you begin to think a bit. 

As regards the fusing of her soul and mine, therefore, there was nothingdoing. But with Gussie, the posish was entirely different. The thing thathad stymied me--viz. That this girl was obviously all loaded down withideals and sentiment and what not--was quite in order as far as he wasconcerned. 

Gussie had always been one of those dreamy, soulful birds--you can't shutyourself up in the country and live only for newts, if you're not--and Icould 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 likeham 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 bepushed along with the utmost energy. Strain every nerve, Jeeves. "

"Very good, sir, " replied the honest fellow. "I will attend to the matterat once. "

Now up to this point, as you will doubtless agree, what you might call aperfect harmony had prevailed. Friendly gossip between employer andemployed, and everything as sweet as a nut. But at this juncture, Iregret to say, there was an unpleasant switch. The atmosphere suddenlychanged, the storm clouds began to gather, and before we knew where wewere, the jarring note had come bounding on the scene. I have known thisto happen before in the Wooster home. 

The first intimation I had that things were about to hot up was a painedand disapproving cough from the neighbourhood of the carpet. For, duringthe above exchanges, I should explain, while I, having dried the frame, had been dressing in a leisurely manner, donning here a sock, there ashoe, and gradually climbing into the vest, the shirt, the tie, and theknee-length, Jeeves had been down on the lower level, unpacking myeffects. 

He now rose, holding a white object. And at the sight of it, I realizedthat another of our domestic crises had arrived, another of thoseunfortunate 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 willrecall that anybody with any pretensions to being the life and soul ofthe party was accustomed to attend binges at the Casino in the ordinaryevening-wear trouserings topped to the north by a white mess-jacket withbrass buttons. And ever since I had stepped aboard the Blue Train atCannes station, I had been wondering on and off how mine would go withJeeves. 

In the matter of evening costume, you see, Jeeves is hidebound andreactionary. 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 cequ'il y a de chic_--on the Côte d'Azur, I had never concealed it frommyself, even when treading the measure at the Palm Beach Casino in theone I had hastened to buy, that there might be something of an upheavalabout it on my return. 

I prepared to be firm. 

"Yes, Jeeves?" I said. And though my voice was suave, a close observer ina position to watch my eyes would have noticed a steely glint. Nobody hasa greater respect for Jeeves's intellect than I have, but thisdisposition 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 jollywell intended to fight for it with all the vim of grand old Sieur deWooster 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 coatbelonging 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 ismine. 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 successfor this jacket. It is my intention to spring it on the public tomorrowat Pongo Twistleton's birthday party, where I confidently expect it to beone long scream from start to finish. No argument, Jeeves. No discussion. Whatever fantastic objection you may have taken to it, I wear thisjacket. "

"Very good, sir. "

He went on with his unpacking. I said no more on the subject. I had wonthe victory, and we Woosters do not triumph over a beaten foe. Presently, having completed my toilet, I bade the man a cheery farewell and ingenerous mood suggested that, as I was dining out, why didn't he take theevening off and go to some improving picture or something. Sort of olivebranch, 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-Nottleinformed 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 abouthis forthcoming merry-making of his, of which good reports had alreadyreached me through my correspondents, that it was nearing eleven when Igot home again. 

And scarcely had I opened the door when I heard voices in thesitting-room, and scarcely had I entered the sitting-room when I foundthat these proceeded from Jeeves and what appeared at first sight to bethe Devil. 

A closer scrutiny informed me that it was Gussie Fink-Nottle, dressed asMephistopheles. 

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"What-ho, Gussie, " I said. 

You couldn't have told it from my manner, but I was feeling more than abit nonplussed. The spectacle before me was enough to nonplus anyone. Imean 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 ifinvited to so much as a social Saturday afternoon at the vicarage. Andyet here he was, if one could credit one's senses, about to take part ina fancy-dress ball, a form of entertainment notoriously a testingexperience for the toughest. 

And he was attending that fancy-dress ball, mark you--not, like everyother well-bred Englishman, as a Pierrot, but as Mephistopheles--thisinvolving, as I need scarcely stress, not only scarlet tights but apretty frightful false beard. 

Rummy, you'll admit. However, one masks one's feelings. I betrayed novulgar 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 Jeeveshow he thought I looked. How do you think I look, Bertie?"

Well, the answer to that, of course, was "perfectly foul". But weWoosters are men of tact and have a nice sense of the obligations of ahost. We do not tell old friends beneath our roof-tree that they are anoffence 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 abouteleven. 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 certainconstraint. I mixed myself a beaker, while Gussie, a glutton forpunishment, stared at himself in the mirror. Finally I decided that itwould be best to let him know that I was abreast of his affairs. It mightbe that it would ease his mind to confide in a sympathetic man ofexperience. I have generally found, with those under the influence, thatwhat 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, ofcourse, when a chap has dug himself in behind a Mephistopheles beard, butI fancy he flushed a trifle. 

"I wish Jeeves wouldn't go gassing all over the place. It was supposed tobe confidential. "

I could not permit this tone. 

"Dishing up the dirt to the young master can scarcely be described asgassing 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 mypersonal opinion that the female in question was a sloppy pest in mydesire to buck and encourage, "by saying that Madeline Bassett is acharming 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. Wheredid you meet?"

"She was staying at a place near mine in Lincolnshire the week beforelast. "

"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 thornin its foot, and when she tried to take it out, it snapped at her. So, ofcourse, 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'tyou 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 allthat sort of thing. And she said she was going to London, and asked meto 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 chapis such a rabbit that he can't get action when he's handed the thing on aplate, his case would appear to be pretty hopeless. Nevertheless, Ireminded 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 thisenterprise. You have Bertram Wooster in your corner, Gussie. "

"Thanks, old man. And Jeeves, of course, which is the thing that reallymatters. "

I don't mind admitting that I winced. He meant no harm, I suppose, butI'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 meanto say, that in their opinion Bertram Wooster is a mere cipher and thatthe 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 prettydashed fed with Jeeves. Over that matter of the mess jacket, I mean. True, I had forced him to climb down, quelling him, as described, withthe quiet strength of my personality, but I was still a trifle shirty athis having brought the thing up at all. It seemed to me that what Jeeveswanted 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 ofinvitation. And Jeeves considered----"

"And why not as a Pierrot?" I said, taking up the point which had struckme 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 weatherabout me wearing a perfectly ordinary white mess jacket, a garment notonly _tout ce qu'il y a de chic_, but absolutely _de rigueur_, and in thesame breath, as you might say, inciting Gussie Fink-Nottle to be a bloton the London scene in scarlet tights. Ironical, what? One looks askanceat 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 hethought a Pierrot wouldn't be adequate. "

"I don't follow that. "

"He said that the costume of Pierrot, while pleasing to the eye, lackedthe 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. Butlong association with Jeeves has developed the Wooster vocabularyconsiderably. Jeeves has always been a whale for the psychology of theindividual, and I now follow him like a bloodhound when he snaps it outof the bag. 

"Oh, psychology?"

"Yes. Jeeves is a great believer in the moral effect of clothes. Hethinks I might be emboldened in a striking costume like this. He said aPirate Chief would be just as good. In fact, a Pirate Chief was his firstsuggestion, but I objected to the boots. "

I saw his point. There is enough sadness in life without having fellowslike 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 bitof recent years, this man and I had once thrown inked darts at eachother. 

"Gussie, " I said, "take an old friend's advice, and don't go within amile of this binge. "

"But it's my last chance of seeing her. She's off tomorrow to stay withsome 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 chumpnow, yes, but who can say whether that will not pass off when I get intoa mob of other people in fancy dress. I had the same experience as achild, one year during the Christmas festivities. They dressed me up as arabbit, and the shame was indescribable. Yet when I got to the party andfound myself surrounded by scores of other children, many in costumeseven ghastlier than my own, I perked up amazingly, joined freely in therevels, and was able to eat so hearty a supper that I was sick twice inthe 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 issound. In a striking costume like Mephistopheles, I might quite easilypull off something pretty impressive. Colour does make a difference. Lookat newts. During the courting season the male newt is brilliantlycoloured. 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 juststands in front of the female newt vibrating his tail and bending hisbody in a semi-circle. I could do that on my head. No, you wouldn't findme grousing if I were a male newt. "

"But if you were a male newt, Madeline Bassett wouldn't look at you. Notwith 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 hadreached saturation point. 

"Well, anyway, " I said, "coming down to hard facts and cutting out allthis visionary stuff about vibrating tails and what not, the salientpoint that emerges is that you are booked to appear at a fancy-dressball. 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 theEmperor before entering the arena, Gussie trickled off. And I turned toJeeves. The moment had arrived for putting him in his place, and I wasall 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 feelingstoo deeply. Even when displaying the iron hand, we Woosters like to keepthe thing fairly matey. 

However, on consideration, I saw that there was nothing to be gained bytrying 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 hasbeen telling me about this Mephistopheles scheme of yours. "

"Yes, sir?"

"Now let me get it straight. If I follow your reasoning correctly, youthink that, stimulated by being upholstered throughout in scarlet tights, Mr. Fink-Nottle, on encountering the adored object, will vibrate his tailand 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 allthe dashed silly, drivelling ideas I ever heard in my puff this is themost blithering and futile. It won't work. Not a chance. All you havedone is to subject Mr. Fink-Nottle to the nameless horrors of afancy-dress ball for nothing. And this is not the first time this sortof thing has happened. To be quite candid, Jeeves, I have frequentlynoticed before now a tendency or disposition on your part tobecome--what's the word?"

"I could not say, sir. "

"Eloquent? No, it's not eloquent. Elusive? No, it's not elusive. It's onthe tip of my tongue. Begins with an 'e' and means being a jolly sighttoo clever. "

"Elaborate, sir?"

"That is the exact word I was after. Too elaborate, Jeeves--that is whatyou are frequently prone to become. Your methods are not simple, notstraightforward. You cloud the issue with a lot of fancy stuff that isnot of the essence. All that Gussie needs is the elder-brotherly adviceof a seasoned man of the world. So what I suggest is that from now onwardyou 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 yetperfectly effective ere long. I will make a point of seeing Gussietomorrow. "

"Very good, sir. "

"Right ho, Jeeves. "

But on the morrow all those telegrams started coming in, and I confessthat for twenty-four hours I didn't give the poor chap a thought, havingproblems of my own to contend with. 

-3-

The first of the telegram arrived shortly after noon, and Jeeves broughtit in with the before-luncheon snifter. It was from my Aunt Dahlia, operating from Market Snodsbury, a small town of sorts a mile or twoalong 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; ifanything. As mysterious a communication, I considered, as was everflashed over the wires. I studied it in a profound reverie for the bestpart of two dry Martinis and a dividend. I read it backwards. I read itforwards. As a matter of fact, I have a sort of recollection of evensmelling it. But it still baffled me. 

Consider the facts, I mean. It was only a few hours since this aunt and Ihad 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 notaccustomed to this gluttonous appetite for his society. Ask anyone whoknows 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 fewdays. 

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 myresponse 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 quiteclear:

_When you say "Come" do you mean "Come to Brinkley Court"? And when yousay "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 restfulafternoon 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 youunderstand or not. You just come at once, as I tell you, and for heaven'ssake stop this back-chat. Do you think I am made of money that I canafford to send you telegrams every ten minutes. Stop being a fathead andcome immediately. Love. Travers. _

It was at this point that I felt the need of getting a second opinion. Ipressed the bell. 

"Jeeves, " I said, "a V-shaped rumminess has manifested itself from thedirection of Worcestershire. Read these, " I said, handing him the papersin 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. Traversappears very insistent. I think it would be well to acquiesce in herwishes. "

"Pop down, you mean?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Well, I certainly can't go at once. I've an important conference on atthe Drones tonight. Pongo Twistleton's birthday party, you remember. "

"Yes, sir. "

There was a slight pause. We were both recalling the littleunpleasantness 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 oneanother 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 hadgot 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 theseoccasions. "Pig-headed" is the word that springs to the lips. One sighsand passes on. 

"Well, anyway, returning to the agenda, I can't go down to Brinkley Courtor 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 sometime next week or the week after. Dash it all, she ought to be able tohold 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 tosome such effect. That ought to meet the case. Then if you will toddleround 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'sparty. 

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 tostagger humanity, and I must say I have participated in less fruityfunctions. It was well after four when I got home, and by that time I wasabout ready to turn in. I can just remember groping for the bed andcrawling into it, and it seemed to me that the lemon had scarcely touchedthe 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 therelative 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 hisflesh and blood with a keener and more remorselessly critical eye, he isnevertheless a man who delights in giving credit where credit is due. Andif you have followed these memoirs of mine with the proper care, you willbe aware that I have frequently had occasion to emphasise the fact thatAunt Dahlia is all right. 

She is the one, if you remember, who married old Tom Travers _en secondesnoces_, as I believe the expression is, the year Bluebottle won theCambridgeshire, and once induced me to write an article on What theWell-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 herspiritual make-up there is none of that subtle gosh-awfulness whichrenders such an exhibit as, say, my Aunt Agatha the curse of the HomeCounties and a menace to one and all. I have the highest esteem for AuntDahlia, and have never wavered in my cordial appreciation of herhumanity, sporting qualities and general good-eggishness. 

This being so, you may conceive of my astonishment at finding her at mybedside at such an hour. I mean to say, I've stayed at her place many atime and oft, and she knows my habits. She is well aware that until Ihave had my cup of tea in the morning, I do not receive. This crashing inat a moment when she knew that solitude and repose were of the essencewas scarcely, I could not but feel, the good old form. 

Besides, what business had she being in London at all? That was what Iasked myself. When a conscientious housewife has returned to her homeafter an absence of seven weeks, one does not expect her to start racingoff again the day after her arrival. One feels that she ought to besticking round, ministering to her husband, conferring with the cook, feeding the cat, combing and brushing the Pomeranian--in a word, stayingput. I was more than a little bleary-eyed, but I endeavoured, as far asthe 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 betweenthe 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 ridingover hounds. A throwback, no doubt, to the time when she counted the daylost that was not spent in chivvying some unfortunate fox over thecountryside. 

I gave her another of the austere and censorious, and this time itregistered. All the effect it had, however, was to cause her to descendto 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 gazedat some newt that was not up to sample, "if you have the faintestconception how perfectly loathsome you look? A cross between an orgyscene in the movies and some low form of pond life. I suppose you wereout on the tiles last night?"

"I attended a social function, yes, " I said coldly. "Pongo Twistleton'sbirthday 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 Jeevesentered with the vital oolong. I clutched at it like a drowning man at astraw hat. A deep sip or two, and I felt--I won't say restored, because abirthday party like Pongo Twistleton's isn't a thing you get restoredafter with a mere mouthful of tea, but sufficiently the old Bertram to beable 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 thescenario. 

"What is this, Aunt Dahlia?" I inquired. 

"It looks to me like tea, " was her response. "But you know best. You'redrinking it. "

If I hadn't been afraid of spilling the healing brew, I have little doubtthat 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 meto get up and dress, and all that rot. "

"I've barged in, as you call it, because my telegrams seemed to produceno effect. And I told you to get up and dress because I want you to getup 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 comingnow. 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 verydifferent things. There is man's work for you to do at Brinkley Court. Beready to the last button in twenty minutes. "

"But I can't possibly be ready to any buttons in twenty minutes. I'mfeeling awful. "

She seemed to consider. 

"Yes, " she said. "I suppose it's only humane to give you a day or two torecover. All right, then, I shall expect you on the thirtieth at thelatest. "

"But, dash it, what is all this? How do you mean, a job? Why a job? Whatsort of a job?"

"I'll tell you if you'll only stop talking for a minute. It's quite aneasy, pleasant job. You will enjoy it. Have you ever heard of MarketSnodsbury 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 itso quickly?" she protested. "All right, then. Market Snodsbury GrammarSchool 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 ofgovernors at Eton, wasn't there? Very well. So there is at MarketSnodsbury Grammar School, and I'm a member of it. And they left thearrangements for the summer prize-giving to me. This prize-giving takesplace on the last--or thirty-first--day of this month. Have you got thatclear?"

I took another oz. Of the life-saving and inclined my head. Even after aPongo Twistleton birthday party, I was capable of grasping simple factslike 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 mereaimless vapouring of an aunt who has been sitting out in the sun withouta 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 beastlyleg. The vicar was to have officiated, but when I got home I found aletter from him saying that he had strained a fetlock and must scratchhis nomination. You can imagine the state I was in. I telephoned all overthe 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 tooblige deserving aunts than Bertram Wooster, but there are limits, andsharply defined limits, at that. 

"So you think I'm going to strew prizes at this bally Dotheboys Hall ofyours?"

"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 willnot do it. "

"You will do it, young Bertie, or never darken my doors again. And youknow what that means. No more of Anatole's dinners for you. "

A strong shudder shook me. She was alluding to her _chef_, that superbartist. A monarch of his profession, unsurpassed--nay, unequalled--atdishing up the raw material so that it melted in the mouth of theultimate consumer, Anatole had always been a magnet that drew me toBrinkley Court with my tongue hanging out. Many of my happiest momentshad been those which I had spent champing this great man's roasts andragouts, and the prospect of being barred from digging into them in thefuture 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 ofhauteur. "One is not a greedy young pig because one appreciates thecooking of a genius. "

"Well, I will say I like it myself, " conceded the relative. "But notanother 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 yourtwelve-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 togive away prizes. I seem to remember, when I was at school, it wasgenerally a prime minister or somebody. "

"Ah, but that was at Eton. At Market Snodsbury we aren't nearly sochoosy. 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 melosing all that money at baccarat at Cannes? Well, very shortly I shallhave 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 theprizes at Market Snodsbury Grammar School, there will be a divorce in thefamily. 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 thewrong man. I'm hopeless at a game like that. Ask Jeeves about the time Igot lugged in to address a girls' school. I made the most colossal ass ofmyself. "

"And I confidently anticipate that you will make an equally colossal assof yourself on the thirty-first of this month. That's why I want you. Theway 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 youdistribute 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 ortwo. "

And with these heartless words she beetled off, leaving me a prey to thegloomiest emotions. What with the natural reaction after Pongo's partyand this stunning blow, it is not too much to say that the soul wasseared. 

And I was still writhing in the depths, when the door opened and Jeevesappeared. 

"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 awarethat I was up to an advanced hour last night. You know that I have barelyhad my tea. You cannot be ignorant of the effect of that hearty voice ofAunt Dahlia's on a man with a headache. And yet you come bringing meFink-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 myemotions, I had clean forgotten about having taken Gussie's interests inhand. It altered things. One can't give the raspberry to a client. Imean, you didn't find Sherlock Holmes refusing to see clients justbecause he had been out late the night before at Doctor Watson's birthdayparty. I could have wished that the man had selected some more suitablehour 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 anaudience. 

"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 ofJeeves's and their effect on a fellow who is hanging to life by a threadon the morning after. What they consist of, I couldn't tell you. He sayssome kind of sauce, the yolk of a raw egg and a dash of red pepper, butnothing 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 thoughall Nature waited breathless. Then, suddenly, it is as if the Last Trumphad sounded and Judgment Day set in with unusual severity. 

Bonfires burst out all in parts of the frame. The abdomen becomes heavilycharged with molten lava. A great wind seems to blow through the world, and the subject is aware of something resembling a steam hammer strikingthe back of the head. During this phase, the ears ring loudly, theeyeballs rotate and there is a tingling about the brow. 

And then, just as you are feeling that you ought to ring up your lawyerand see that your affairs are in order before it is too late, the wholesituation seems to clarify. The wind drops. The ears cease to ring. Birdstwitter. Brass bands start playing. The sun comes up over the horizonwith 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. Iremember Jeeves, who, however much he may go off the rails at times inthe matter of dress clothes and in his advice to those in love, hasalways had a neat turn of phrase, once speaking of someone rising onstepping-stones of his dead self to higher things. It was that way withme now. I felt that the Bertram Wooster who lay propped up against thepillows 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'sproblems. "

"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 hemake 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 feelbetter, but don't try me too high. Don't stand by my sick bed talkingabsolute rot. We shot Gussie into a cab and he started forth, headed forwherever this fancy-dress ball was. He must have arrived. "

"No, sir. As I gather from Mr. Fink-Nottle, he entered the cab convincedin his mind that the entertainment to which he had been invited was to beheld at No. 17, Suffolk Square, whereas the actual rendezvous was No. 71, Norfolk Terrace. These aberrations of memory are not uncommon with thosewho, like Mr. Fink-Nottle, belong essentially to what one might call thedreamer-type. "

"One might also call it the fatheaded type. "

"Yes, sir. "

"Well?"

"On reaching No. 17, Suffolk Square, Mr. Fink-Nottle endeavoured toproduce 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 hisbedchamber in the house of his uncle, where he was residing. Bidding thecabman to wait, accordingly, he rang the door-bell, and when the butlerappeared, requested him to pay the cab, adding that it was all right, ashe was one of the guests invited to the dance. The butler then disclaimedall 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'sresidence. "

"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 hislatchkey on the mantelpiece of his bedchamber. "

"He could have rung the bell. "

"He did ring the bell, sir, for some fifteen minutes. At the expirationof that period he recalled that he had given permission to thecaretaker--the house was officially closed and all the staff onholiday--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 positionas regards the cabman had become equivocal. The figures on the clock hadalready reached a substantial sum, and he was not in a position to meethis obligations. "

"He could have explained. "

"You cannot explain to cabmen, sir. On endeavouring to do so, he foundthe 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 detainhim, snatched at his overcoat. Mr. Fink-Nottle contrived to extricatehimself from the coat, and it would seem that his appearance in themasquerade 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 withhis hands over his face. Mr. Fink-Nottle thinks he was praying. No doubtan uneducated, superstitious fellow, sir. Possibly a drinker. "

"Well, if he hadn't been one before, I'll bet he started being oneshortly afterwards. I expect he could scarcely wait for the pubs toopen. "

"Very possibly, in the circumstances he might have found a restorativeagreeable, sir. "

"And so, in the circumstances, might Gussie too, I should think. What onearth 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 inalley-ways, diving into dust-bins. "

"I gathered from Mr. Fink-Nottle's remarks, sir, that something very muchon those lines was what occurred. Eventually, after a trying night, hefound his way to Mr. Sipperley's residence, where he was able to securelodging and a change of costume in the morning. "

I nestled against the pillows, the brow a bit drawn. It is all very wellto try to do old school friends a spot of good, but I could not but feelthat in espousing the cause of a lunkhead capable of mucking things up asGussie had done, I had taken on a contract almost too big for humanconsumption. It seemed to me that what Gussie needed was not so much theadvice of a seasoned man of the world as a padded cell in Colney Hatchand a couple of good keepers to see that he did not set the place onfire. 

Indeed, for an instant I had half a mind to withdraw from the case andhand it back to Jeeves. But the pride of the Woosters restrained me. Whenwe Woosters put our hands to the plough, we do not readily sheathe thesword. Besides, after that business of the mess-jacket, anythingresembling weakness would have been fatal. 

"I suppose you realize, Jeeves, " I said, for though one dislikes to rubit in, these things have to be pointed out, "that all this was yourfault?"

"Sir?"

"It's no good saying 'Sir?' You know it was. If you had not insisted onhis going to that dance--a mad project, as I spotted from the first--thiswould not have happened. "

"Yes, sir, but I confess I did not anticipate----"

"Always anticipate everything, Jeeves, " I said, a little sternly. "It isthe 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 haspockets. 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 scarlettights, 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 grimexperience. The face was pale, the eyes gooseberry-like, the earsdrooping, and the whole aspect that of a man who has passed through thefurnace and been caught in the machinery. I hitched myself up a bithigher on the pillows and gazed at him narrowly. It was a moment, I couldsee, 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 touchdelicately 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 ofaffairs right away, "that he is no longer handling your little problem. "

This seemed to slip it across him properly. The jaws fell, the earsdrooped more limply. He had been looking like a dead fish. He now lookedlike a deader fish, one of last year's, cast up on some lonely beach andleft 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 terribleexperiences of that awful night have told you that Jeeves needs a rest. The keenest of thinkers strikes a bad patch occasionally. That is whathas happened to Jeeves. I have seen it coming on for some time. He haslost his form. He wants his plugs decarbonized. No doubt this is a shockto 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, andI 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 amnow in sole charge. "

"But what on earth can you do?"

I curbed my resentment. We Woosters are fair-minded. We can makeallowances for men who have been parading London all night in scarlettights. 

"That, " I said quietly, "we shall see. Sit down and let us confer. I ambound to say the thing seems quite simple to me. You say this girl hasgone to visit friends in the country. It would appear obvious that youmust 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 calledBrinkley Court down in Worcestershire. "

I unpursed my lips. 

"Gussie, " I said, smiling paternally, "it was a lucky day for you whenBertram Wooster interested himself in your affairs. As I foresaw from thestart, I can fix everything. This afternoon you shall go to BrinkleyCourt, an honoured guest. "

He quivered like a _mousse_. I suppose it must always be rather athrilling 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 scarlettights and one of the foulest false beards of my experience, and sendsyou off to fancy-dress balls. Result, agony of spirit and no progress. Ithen take over and put you on the right lines. Could Jeeves have got youinto Brinkley Court? Not a chance. Aunt Dahlia isn't his aunt. I merelymention 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 thoseromantic surroundings you can't miss. Great lovers through the ages havefixed up the preliminary formalities at Brinkley. The place is simply illwith atmosphere. You will stroll with the girl in the shady walks. Youwill 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. Nobusiness resulted, but the fact remains. And I went there without thefoggiest idea of indulging in the tender pash. I hadn't the slightestintention of proposing to anybody. Yet no sooner had I entered thoseromantic grounds than I found myself reaching out for the nearest girl insight and slapping my soul down in front of her. It's something in theair. "

"I see exactly what you mean. That's just what I want to be able todo--work up to it. And in London--curse the place--everything's in such arush that you don't get a chance. "

"Quite. You see a girl alone for about five minutes a day, and if youwant to ask her to be your wife, you've got to charge into it as if youwere trying to grab the gold ring on a merry-go-round. "

"That's right. London rattles one. I shall be a different man altogetherin the country. What a bit of luck this Travers woman turning out to beyour aunt. "

"I don't know what you mean, turning out to be my aunt. She has been myaunt all along. "

"I mean, how extraordinary that it should be your aunt that Madeline'sgoing to stay with. "

"Not at all. She and my Cousin Angela are close friends. At Cannes shewas with us all the time. "

"Oh, you met Madeline at Cannes, did you? By Jove, Bertie, " said the poorlizard devoutly, "I wish I could have seen her at Cannes. How wonderfulshe must have looked in beach pyjamas! Oh, Bertie----"

"Quite, " I said, a little distantly. Even when restored by one ofJeeves's depth bombs, one doesn't want this sort of thing after a hardnight. I touched the bell and, when Jeeves appeared, requested him tobring me telegraph form and pencil. I then wrote a well-wordedcommunication 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 findit waiting for her on her return. "

Gussie popped along, flapping the telegram and looking like a close-up ofJoan Crawford, and I turned to Jeeves and gave him a précis of myoperations. 

"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 itwhen two people of opposite sexes are bunged together in closeassociation in a secluded spot, meeting each other every day and seeing alot of each other?"

"Is 'propinquity' the word you wish, sir?"

"It is. I stake everything on propinquity, Jeeves. Propinquity, in myopinion, 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 willfeel in a week or so, after he and she have been helping themselves tosausages 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 memention 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 thathe is pining away for love of her. This cannot be done by wolfingsausages. "

"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 thegrip I am getting on this case. No doubt you realize now that it wouldpay you to study my methods. "

"No doubt, sir. "

"And even now you aren't on to the full depths of the extraordinarysagacity I've shown. Do you know what brought Aunt Dahlia up here thismorning? She came to tell me I'd got to distribute the prizes at somebeastly 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 ofhers in my stead. "

"But if Mr. Fink-Nottle should decline, sir?"

"Decline? Can you see him declining? Just conjure up the picture in yourmind, Jeeves. Scene, the drawing-room at Brinkley; Gussie wedged into acorner, with Aunt Dahlia standing over him making hunting noises. I putit 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 slideoff. 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 atwhich I confess the soul shuddered. Getting up on a platform anddelivering a short, manly speech to a lot of foul school-kids! Golly, Jeeves. I've been through that sort of thing once, what? You rememberthat 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 ofyours, 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 toBrinkley, because it wasn't till well after lunch that her telegramarrived. It read like a telegram that had been dispatched in a white-hotsurge of emotion some two minutes after she had read mine. 

As follows:

_Am taking legal advice to ascertain whether strangling an idiot nephewcounts as murder. If it doesn't look out for yourself. Consider yourconduct frozen limit. What do you mean by planting your loathsome friendson me like this? Do you think Brinkley Court is a leper colony or what isit? 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, Gussiemust have arrived, for it wasn't twenty minutes later when I received thefollowing:

_Cipher telegram signed by you has reached me here. Runs "Lay off thesausages. 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 whomwomen of my Aunt Dahlia's type nearly always like at first sight. That Ihad not overrated my acumen was proved by her next in order, which, I waspleased to note, assayed a markedly larger percentage of the milk ofhuman kindness. 

As follows:

_Well, this friend of yours has got here, and I must say that for afriend of yours he seems less sub-human than I had expected. A bit of apop-eyed bleater, but on the whole clean and civil, and certainly mostinformative about newts. Am considering arranging series of lectures forhim in neighbourhood. All the same I like your nerve using my house as asummer-hotel resort and shall have much to say to you on subject when youcome 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 ajolly sight more deeply if you don't come down. If you imagine for onemoment that you are going to get out of distributing those prizes, youare very much mistaken. Deeply regret Brinkley Court hundred miles fromLondon, 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 amoment for petty economies. I let myself go regardless of expense:

_No, but dash it, listen. Honestly, you don't want me. Get Fink-Nottledistribute prizes. A born distributor, who will do you credit. Confidently anticipate Augustus Fink-Nottle as Master of Revels onthirty-first inst. Would make genuine sensation. Do not miss this greatchance, which may never occur again. Tinkerty-tonk. Bertie. _

There was an hour of breathless suspense, and then the joyful tidingsarrived:

_Well, all right. Something in what you say, I suppose. Consider youtreacherous worm and contemptible, spineless cowardly custard, but havebooked Spink-Bottle. Stay where you are, then, and I hope you get runover by an omnibus. Love. Travers. _

The relief, as you may well imagine, was stupendous. A great weightseemed to have rolled off my mind. It was as if somebody had been pouringJeeves's pick-me-ups into me through a funnel. I sang as I dressed fordinner that night. At the Drones I was so gay and cheery that there wereseveral complaints. And when I got home and turned into the old bed, Ifell asleep like a little child within five minutes of inserting theperson between the sheets. It seemed to me that the whole distressingaffair might now be considered definitely closed. 

Conceive my astonishment, therefore, when waking on the morrow andsitting up to dig into the morning tea-cup, I beheld on the tray anothertelegram. 

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 itduring the night down a water-pipe? With these speculations racingthrough the bean, I tore open the envelope And as I noted contents Iuttered 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 notbeen 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. AuntDahlia is obviously all of a twitter, and my place is by her side. Youhad better pack this morning, and catch that 12. 45 train with theluggage. 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 likethe 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 oldtwo-seater that afternoon. The news of this rift or rupture of Angela'sand Tuppy's had disturbed me greatly. 

The projected match, you see, was one on which I had always looked withkindly approval. Too often, when a chap of your acquaintance is planningto marry a girl you know, you find yourself knitting the brow a bit andchewing the lower lip dubiously, feeling that he or she, or both, shouldbe 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. Sois Angela a soundish sort of egg. And, as far as being in love wasconcerned, it had always seemed to me that you wouldn't have been far outin describing them as two hearts that beat as one. 

True, they had had their little tiffs, notably on the occasion whenTuppy--with what he said was fearless honesty and I considered thoroughgoofiness--had told Angela that her new hat made her look like aPekingese. But in every romance you have to budget for the occasionaldust-up, and after that incident I had supposed that he had learned hislesson and that from then on life would be one grand, sweet song. 

And now this wholly unforeseen severing of diplomatic relations hadpopped up through a trap. 

I gave the thing the cream of the Wooster brain all the way down, but itcontinued to beat me what could have caused the outbreak of hostilities, and I bunged my foot sedulously on the accelerator in order to get toAunt Dahlia with the greatest possible speed and learn the inside historystraight from the horse's mouth. And what with all six cylinders hittingnicely, I made good time and found myself closeted with the relativeshortly before the hour of the evening cocktail. 

She seemed glad to see me. In fact, she actually said she was glad to seeme--a statement no other aunt on the list would have committed herselfto, the customary reaction of these near and dear ones to the spectacleof 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 inno uncertain manner. Her usually cheerful map was clouded, and the genialsmile conspic. By its a. I pressed her hand sympathetically, to indicatethat my heart bled for her. 

"Bad show this, my dear old flesh and blood, " I said. "I'm afraid you'vebeen having a sticky time. You must be worried. "

She snorted emotionally. She looked like an aunt who has just bitten intoa bad oyster. 

"Worried is right. I haven't had a peaceful moment since I got back fromCannes. Ever since I put my foot across this blasted threshold, " saidAunt Dahlia, returning for the nonce to the hearty _argot_ of the huntingfield, "everything's been at sixes and sevens. First there was that mix-upabout the prize-giving. "

She paused at this point and gave me a look. "I had been meaning to speakfreely to you about your behaviour in that matter, Bertie, " she said. "Ihad some good things all stored up. But, as you've rallied round likethis, I suppose I shall have to let you off. And, anyway, it is probablyall for the best that you evaded your obligations in that sickeninglycraven way. I have an idea that this Spink-Bottle of yours is going to begood. 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. Butif that was the worst I had to bear, I wouldn't mind. What I'm worryingabout 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 seehim turn black and start playing the banjo. Yes, Uncle Tom, if you musthave it. I shall have to tell him soon about losing all that money atbaccarat, 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 fivehundred pounds out of him for _Milady's Boudoir_ by August the third atthe latest. "

I was concerned. Apart from a nephew's natural interest in an aunt'srefined 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 Whatthe Well-Dressed Man is Wearing. Sentimental, possibly, but we oldjournalists 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 thecorner. "

"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 bymarriage'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 anonly child touching an indulgent father for chocolate cream. But he'sjust had a demand from the income-tax people for an additional fifty-eightpounds, one and threepence, and all he's been talking about since I gotback has been ruin and the sinister trend of socialistic legislation andwhat will become of us all. "

I could readily believe it. This Tom has a peculiarity I've noticed inother very oofy men. Nick him for the paltriest sum, and he lets out asquawk you can hear at Land's End. He has the stuff in gobs, but he hatesgiving up. 

"If it wasn't for Anatole's cooking, I doubt if he would bother to carryon. 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 themind 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 tellingyou 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. Terribleshock. What was the row about?"

"Sharks. "

"Eh?"

"Sharks. Or, rather, one individual shark. The brute that went for thepoor child when she was aquaplaning at Cannes. You remember Angela'sshark?"

Certainly I remembered Angela's shark. A man of sensibility does notforget about a cousin nearly being chewed by monsters of the deep. Theepisode was still green in my memory. 

In a nutshell, what had occurred was this: You know how you aquaplane. Amotor-boat nips on ahead, trailing a rope. You stand on a board, holdingthe rope, and the boat tows you along. And every now and then you loseyour grip on the rope and plunge into the sea and have to swim to yourboard again. 

A silly process it has always seemed to me, though many find itdiverting. 

Well, on the occasion referred to, Angela had just regained her boardafter taking a toss, when a great beastly shark came along and cannonedinto it, flinging her into the salty once more. It took her quite a bitof time to get on again and make the motor-boat chap realize what was upand haul her to safety, and during that interval you can readily pictureher embarrassment. 

According to Angela, the finny denizen kept snapping at her anklesvirtually without cessation, so that by the time help arrived, she wasfeeling 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 nothingelse for weeks. 

"I remember the whole incident vividly, " I said. "But how did that startthe 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 shewas entitled, what do you think this blasted Glossop did? He satlistening like a lump of dough, as if she had been talking about theweather, and when she had finished, he took his cigarette holder out ofhis 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 snappedat 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 toplay. ' Well, I mean! What would you have done if you had been Angela? Shehas pride, sensibility, all the natural feelings of a good woman. Shetold him he was an ass and a fool and an idiot, and didn't know what hewas talking about. "

I must say I saw the girl's viewpoint. It's only about once in a lifetimethat anything sensational ever happens to one, and when it does, youdon't want people taking all the colour out of it. I remember at schoolhaving to read that stuff where that chap, Othello, tells the girl what ahell of a time he'd been having among the cannibals and what not. Well, imagine his feelings if, after he had described some particularly stickypassage 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 greatlyexaggerated and that the man had probably really been a prominent localvegetarian. 

Yes, I saw Angela's point of view. 

"But don't tell me that when he saw how shirty she was about it, thechump didn't back down?"

"He didn't. He argued. And one thing led to another until, by easystages, they had arrived at the point where she was saying that shedidn't know if he was aware of it, but if he didn't knock off starchyfoods and do exercises every morning, he would be getting as fat as apig, and he was talking about this modern habit of girls putting make-upon their faces, of which he had always disapproved. This continued for awhile, and then there was a loud pop and the air was full of mangledfragments of their engagement. I'm distracted about it. Thank goodnessyou've come, Bertie. "

"Nothing could have kept me away, " I replied, touched. "I felt you neededme. "

"Yes. "

"Quite. "

"Or, rather, " she said, "not you, of course, but Jeeves. The minute allthis happened, I thought of him. The situation obviously cries out forJeeves. If ever in the whole history of human affairs there was a momentwhen 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'mpretty sure I would. But it isn't so dashed easy to stagger when you'resitting in an arm-chair. Only my face, therefore, showed how deeply I hadbeen stung by these words. 

Until she spoke them, I had been all sweetness and light--the sympatheticnephew prepared to strain every nerve to do his bit. I now froze, and theface 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 tohim. 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 daysago I was compelled to take him off a case because his handling of it wasso footling. And, anyway, I resent this assumption, if assumption is theword I want, that Jeeves is the only fellow with brain. I object to theway everybody puts things up to him without consulting me and letting mehave 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'sadvice. It is possible that in the future I may seek it again. But Iclaim the right to have a pop at these problems, as they arise, inperson, without having everybody behave as if Jeeves was the only onionin the hash. I sometimes feel that Jeeves, though admittedly notunsuccessful 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 tellyou why. 

You remember that he caught that 12. 45 train with the luggage, while Iremained on in order to keep a luncheon engagement. Well, just before Istarted out to the tryst, I was pottering about the flat, and suddenly--Idon't know what put the suspicion into my head, possibly the fellow'smanner had been furtive--something seemed to whisper to me to go and havea look in the wardrobe. 

And it was as I had suspected. There was the mess-jacket still on itshanger. The hound hadn't packed it. 

Well, as anybody at the Drones will tell you, Bertram Wooster is a prettyhard chap to outgeneral. I shoved the thing in a brown-paper parcel andput it in the back of the car, and it was on a chair in the hall now. Butthat didn't alter the fact that Jeeves had attempted to do the dirty onme, and I suppose a certain what-d'you-call-it had crept into my mannerduring the above remarks. 

"There has been no breach, " I said. "You might describe it as a passingcoolness, but no more. We did not happen to see eye to eye with regard tomy white mess-jacket with the brass buttons and I was compelled to assertmy personality. But----"

"Well, it doesn't matter, anyway. The thing that matters is that you aretalking piffle, you poor fish. Jeeves lost his grip? Absurd. Why, I sawhim for a moment when he arrived, and his eyes were absolutely glitteringwith 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 mattersworse. "

"On the contrary, it may interest you to know that while driving here Iconcentrated deeply on this trouble of Angela's and was successful informulating a plan, based on the psychology of the individual, which I amproposing 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, "layoff, lay off! For pity's sake, lay off. I know these plans of yours. Isuppose you want to shove Angela into the lake and push young Glossop inafter 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 bein on the ground floor, that is your affair. But you are missing anintellectual treat. And, anyway, no matter how much you may behave likethe deaf adder of Scripture which, as you are doubtless aware, the moreone piped, the less it danced, or words to that effect, I shall carry onas planned. I am extremely fond of Angela, and I shall spare no effort tobring the sunshine back into her heart. "

"Bertie, you abysmal chump, I appeal to you once more. Will you pleaselay 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--abuck he would have been, no doubt, or a macaroni or some such bird asthat--who, when people said the wrong thing, merely laughed down fromlazy eyelids and flicked a speck of dust from the irreproachable Mechlinlace at his wrists. This was practically what I did now. At least, Istraightened my tie and smiled one of those inscrutable smiles of mine. Ithen withdrew and went out for a saunter in the garden. 

And the first chap I ran into was young Tuppy. His brow was furrowed, andhe was moodily bunging stones at a flowerpot. 

-8-

I think I have told you before about young Tuppy Glossop. He was thefellow, if you remember, who, callously ignoring the fact that we hadbeen friends since boyhood, betted me one night at the Drones that Icould swing myself across the swimming bath by the rings--a childish featfor 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 dropinto the deep end in formal evening costume. 

To say that I had not resented this foul deed, which seemed to medeserving of the title of the crime of the century, would be palteringwith the truth. I had resented it profoundly, chafing not a little at thetime and continuing to chafe for some weeks. 

But you know how it is with these things. The wound heals. The agonyabates. 

I am not saying, mind you, that had the opportunity presented itself ofdropping a wet sponge on Tuppy from some high spot or of putting an eelin his bed or finding some other form of self-expression of a likenature, I would not have embraced it eagerly; but that let me out. I meanto say, grievously injured though I had been, it gave me no pleasure tofeel that the fellow's bally life was being ruined by the loss of a girlwhom, despite all that had passed, I was convinced he still loved likethe dickens. 

On the contrary, I was heart and soul in favour of healing the breach andrendering everything hotsy-totsy once more between these two youngsundered blighters. You will have gleaned that from my remarks to AuntDahlia, and if you had been present at this moment and had seen thekindly commiserating look I gave Tuppy, you would have gleaned it stillmore. 

It was one of those searching, melting looks, and was accompanied by thehearty clasp of the right hand and the gentle laying of the left on thecollar-bone. 

"Well, Tuppy, old man, " I said. "How are you, old man?"

My commiseration deepened as I spoke the words, for there had been nolighting up of the eye, no answering pressure of the palm, no signwhatever, in short, of any disposition on his part to do Spring dances atthe sight of an old friend. The man seemed sandbagged. Melancholy, as Iremember Jeeves saying once about Pongo Twistleton when he was trying toknock 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 oldcase, 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 atBrinkley Court with the express intention of bringing Angela and himselftogether once more, of knitting up the severed threads, and so on and soforth; and for perhaps half the time required for the lighting of agasper I had almost decided to do so. Then, I reflected, better, on thewhole, perhaps not. To broadcast the fact that I proposed to take him andAngela and play on them as on a couple of stringed instruments might havebeen injudicious. Chaps don't always like being played on as on astringed instrument. 

"It all depends, " I said. "I may remain. I may push on. My plans areuncertain. "

He nodded listlessly, rather in the manner of a man who did not give adamn what I did, and stood gazing out over the sunlit garden. In buildand appearance, Tuppy somewhat resembles a bulldog, and his aspect nowwas that of one of these fine animals who has just been refused a sliceof cake. It was not difficult for a man of my discernment to read whatwas in his mind, and it occasioned me no surprise, therefore, when hisnext words had to do with the subject marked with a cross on the agendapaper. 

"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', shewas, I thought, singularly temperate in her language for a woman who atone time hunted regularly with the Quorn. All the same, I could see, ifyou don't mind me saying so, old man, that she felt you might havebehaved with a little more tact. "

"Tact!"

"And I must admit I rather agreed with her. Was it nice, Tuppy, was itquite kind to take the bloom off Angela's shark like that? You mustremember that Angela's shark is very dear to her. Could you not see whata sock on the jaw it would be for the poor child to hear it described bythe 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 chokedwith feeling. 

"Your side?"

"You don't suppose, " said Tuppy, with rising vehemence, "that I wouldhave exposed this dashed synthetic shark for the flatfish it undoubtedlywas if there had not been causes that led up to it. What induced me tospeak as I did was the fact that Angela, the little squirt, had just beenmost offensive, and I seized the opportunity to get a bit of my ownback. "

"Offensive?"

"Exceedingly offensive. Purely on the strength of my having let fall somecasual remark--simply by way of saying something and keeping theconversation going--to the effect that I wondered what Anatole was goingto give us for dinner, she said that I was too material and ought notalways 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 fordinner. 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 oflove should come a stinker like this when a few manly words ofcontrition----"

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, obviouslymoved. "I love her passionately. But that doesn't alter the fact that Iconsider that what she needs most in this world is a swift kick in thepants. "

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 theeyebrows. 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 afellow 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 itup. "

He shook his head. 

"No. It is too late. Remarks have been passed about my tummy which it isimpossible to overlook. "

"But, Tummy--Tuppy, I mean--be fair. You once told her her new hat madeher look like a Pekingese. "

"It did make her look like a Pekingese. That was not vulgar abuse. It wassound, constructive criticism, with no motive behind it but the kindlydesire 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 stairsis something very different. "

I began to see that the situation would require all my address andingenuity. If the wedding bells were ever to ring out in the littlechurch of Market Snodsbury, Bertram had plainly got to put in someshrewdish work. I had gathered, during my conversation with Aunt Dahlia, that there had been a certain amount of frank speech between the twocontracting parties, but I had not realized till now that matters hadgone so far. 

The pathos of the thing gave me the pip. Tuppy had admitted in so manywords that love still animated the Glossop bosom, and I was convincedthat, even after all that occurred, Angela had not ceased to love him. Atthe moment, no doubt, she might be wishing that she could hit him with abottle, but deep down in her I was prepared to bet that there stilllingered all the old affection and tenderness. Only injured pride waskeeping these two apart, and I felt that if Tuppy would make the firstmove, 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 myauthority. "

"She wrinkles her nose at me as if I were a drain that had got out oforder. "

"Merely the mask. I feel convinced she loves you still, and that a kindlyword from you is all that is required. "

I could see that this had moved him. He plainly wavered. He did a sort oftwiddly on the turf with his foot. And, when he spoke, one spotted thetremolo 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 myprestige. I know girls. Grovel, and the best of them get uppish. " Hemused. "The only way to work the thing would be by tipping her off insome indirect way that I am prepared to open negotiations. Should I sigha 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 crackout 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 sausagesand ham. 

"I've got it, Tuppy. There is one infallible method of indicating to agirl that you love her, and it works just as well when you've had a rowand want to make it up. Don't eat any dinner tonight. You can see howimpressive 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 tostop. I am young and healthy and have a good appetite, but that's not thesame 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 whenyou say I am devoted to food----"

"Quite, quite. All I meant was that if she sees you push away your dinneruntasted, she will realize that your heart is aching, and will probablybe 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 mea _ris de veau à la financiere_, or whatever it may be, hot fromAnatole's hands, you wish me to push it away untasted?"

"Yes. "

He chewed his lip. One could sense the struggle going on within. And thensuddenly a sort of glow came into his face. The old martyrs probably usedto 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 inbed, 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. "Asteak-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 thingthat I admire so enormously about Anatole is that, though a Frenchman, hedoes not, like so many of these _chefs_, confine himself exclusively toFrench dishes, but is always willing and ready to weigh in with some goodold simple English fare such as this steak-and-kidney pie to which I havealluded. 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 slappedBertram Wooster across the face with a wet dish-rag. 

"You aren't suggesting that you think this scheme I have been sketchingout is Jeeves's?"

"Of course it is. It's no good trying to kid me, Bertie. You wouldn'thave thought of a wheeze like that in a million years. "

There was a pause. I drew myself up to my full height; then, seeing thathe wasn't looking at me, lowered myself again. 

"Come, Glossop, " I said coldly, "we had better be going. It is time wewere dressing for dinner. "

-9-

Tuppy's fatheaded words were still rankling in my bosom as I went up tomy room. They continued rankling as I shed the form-fitting, and had notceased to rankle when, clad in the old dressing-gown, I made my way alongthe 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 multitudemeans very little to one. But, all the same, when one has taken thetrouble to whack out a highly juicy scheme to benefit an in-the-soupfriend in his hour of travail, it's pretty foul to find him giving thecredit to one's personal attendant, particularly if that personalattendant 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 ofheart-bowed-downness there is nothing that calms the bruised spirit likea 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 woulddo so or not. 

The spiritual anguish induced by that tactless speech had becomenoticeably lessened. 

The discovery of a toy duck in the soap dish, presumably the property ofsome former juvenile visitor, contributed not a little to this new andhappier frame of mind. What with one thing and another, I hadn't playedwith toy ducks in my bath for years, and I found the novel experiencemost invigorating. For the benefit of those interested, I may mentionthat if you shove the thing under the surface with the sponge and thenlet it go, it shoots out of the water in a manner calculated to divertthe most careworn. Ten minutes of this and I was enabled to return to thebedchamber much more the old merry Bertram. 

Jeeves was there, laying out the dinner disguise. He greeted the youngmaster 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 againat Brinkley Court in the county of Worcestershire. "

"Yes, sir. "

"A nice mess things seem to have gone and got themselves into in thisrustic joint. "

"Yes, sir. "

"The rift between Tuppy Glossop and my cousin Angela would appear to beserious. "

"Yes, sir. Opinion in the servants' hall is inclined to take a grave viewof the situation. "

"And the thought that springs to your mind, no doubt, is that I shallhave 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 theway down here, and with the happiest results. I have just been inconference with Mr. Glossop, and everything is taped out. "

"Indeed, sir? Might I inquire----"

"You know my methods, Jeeves. Apply them. Have you, " I asked, slippinginto the shirt and starting to adjust the cravat, "been gnawing on thething at all?"

"Oh, yes, sir. I have always been much attached to Miss Angela, and Ifelt that it would afford me great pleasure were I to be able to be ofservice 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 promptsgentlemen 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 oldhe-saved-her-from-drowning gag? I am surprised, Jeeves. Surprised andpained. 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 shovemy Cousin Angela into the lake and push Tuppy in to haul her out, and Ilet her see pretty clearly that I considered the suggestion an insult tomy 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 thegrounds and passed the building where the fire-bell hangs, that a suddenalarm of fire in the night might result in Mr. Glossop endeavouring toassist 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 forspeech. I knew, of course, that this man had for the time being lost hisgrip, but I had never suspected that he had gone absolutely to pieceslike 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 isit ineptness? I mean this frightful disposition of his to stick straws inhis hair and talk like a perfect ass. It was the old, old story, Isupposed. A man's brain whizzes along for years exceeding the speedlimit, and something suddenly goes wrong with the steering-gear and itskids and comes a smeller in the ditch. 

"A bit elaborate, " I said, trying to put the thing in as kindly a lightas possible. "Your old failing. You can see that it's a bit elaborate?"

"Possibly the plan I suggested might be considered open to thatcriticism, 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 thinkernothing but a gentle pity. These words jarred the Wooster pride, inducingasperity. 

"I understand perfectly well what _faute de mieux_ means, Jeeves. I didnot recently spend two months among our Gallic neighbours for nothing. Besides, I remember that one from school. What caused my bewilderment wasthat you should be employing the expression, well knowing that there isno 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 plansin the past have not always been uniformly successful. "

There was a silence--rather a throbbing one--during which I put on mywaistcoat in a marked manner. Not till I had got the buckle at the backsatisfactorily adjusted did I speak. 

"It is true, Jeeves, " I said formally, "that once or twice in the past Imay 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 shallnot fail. Because my scheme is rooted in human nature. "

"Indeed, sir?"

"It is simple. Not elaborate. And, furthermore, based on the psychologyof the individual. "

"Indeed, sir?"

"Jeeves, " I said, "don't keep saying 'Indeed, sir?' No doubt nothing isfurther from your mind than to convey such a suggestion, but you have away 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 hearwhat steps I have taken?"

"Very much, sir. "

"Then listen. Tonight at dinner I have recommended Tuppy to lay off thefood. "

"Sir?"

"Tut, Jeeves, surely you can follow the idea, even though it is one thatwould never have occurred to yourself. Have you forgotten that telegram Isent to Gussie Fink-Nottle, steering him away from the sausages and ham?This is the same thing. Pushing the food away untasted is a universallyrecognized sign of love. It cannot fail to bring home the gravy. You mustsee that?"

"Well, sir----"

I frowned. 

"I don't want to seem always to be criticizing your methods of voiceproduction, 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. Itsuggests a lack of faith in my vision. The impression I retain afterhearing you shoot it at me a couple of times is that you consider me tobe talking through the back of my neck, and that only a feudal sense ofwhat is fitting restrains you from substituting for it the words 'Saysyou!'"

"Oh, no, sir. "

"Well, that's what it sounds like. Why don't you think this scheme willwork?"

"I fear Miss Angela will merely attribute Mr. Glossop's abstinence toindigestion, 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--thefellow was simply trying to hamper and obstruct. I decided to knock thestuffing out of him without further preamble. 

"Oh?" I said. "You do, do you? Well, be that as it may, it doesn't alterthe 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 onthe knob of the wardrobe, "as to shove that bally black thing in thecupboard 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, Imean there was a respectful but at the same time uppish glint in his eyeand a sort of muscular spasm flickered across his face which wasn't quitea quiet smile and yet wasn't quite not a quiet smile. Also the softcough. 

"I regret to say, sir, that I inadvertently omitted to pack the garmentto which you refer. "

The vision of that parcel in the hall seemed to rise before my eyes, andI 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 andnicking a speck of dust from the irreproachable Mechlin lace at mywrists. "But I didn't. You will find it on a chair in the hall in abrown-paper parcel. "

The information that his low manoeuvres had been rendered null and voidand that the thing was on the strength after all, must have been thenastiest of jars, but there was no play of expression on his finelychiselled to indicate it. There very seldom is on Jeeves's f-c. Inmoments of discomfort, as I had told Tuppy, he wears a mask, preservingthroughout 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 me good oldj. 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 Towersin 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, whatdoes it matter? What does anything matter now?"

There was a death-where-is-thy-sting-fullness about her manner which Ifound distasteful. It isn't often that I score off Jeeves in thedevastating 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 toTom. "

"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 thatall 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. Withmirrors, I expect. "

"I wish I could use mirrors to break it to Tom about this baccaratbusiness. "

I had a word of comfort to offer here. I had been turning the thing overin my mind since our last meeting, and I thought I saw where she had gottwisted. Where she made her error, it seemed to me, was in feeling shehad got to tell Uncle Tom. To my way of thinking, the matter was one onwhich 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 Civilisationin the melting-pot. Because that is what it will infallibly do unless Iget a cheque by next week. The printers have been showing a nasty spiritfor months. "

"You don't follow. Listen. It's an understood thing, I take it, thatUncle Tom foots the _Boudoir_ bills. If the bally sheet has been turningthe corner for two years, he must have got used to forking out by thistime. 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 agentleman. 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 toendure without being tutted at. "

"Quite. "

"Any tutting that's required, I'll attend to myself. And the same appliesto 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 youremember, had already bled once for Aunt Dahlia this evening. It now bledagain. I knew how deeply attached she was to this paper of hers. Seeingit go down the drain would be for her like watching a loved child sinkfor 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 thantake the rap. 

Then I saw how the thing could be handled. This aunt, I perceived, mustfall into line with my other clients. Tuppy Glossop was knocking offdinner to melt Angela. Gussie Fink-Nottle was knocking off dinner toimpress the Bassett. Aunt Dahlia must knock off dinner to soften UncleTom. For the beauty of this scheme of mine was that there was no limit tothe number of entrants. Come one, come all, the more the merrier, andsatisfaction guaranteed in every case. 

"I've got it, " I said. "There is only one course to pursue. Eat lessmeat. "

She looked at me in a pleading sort of way. I wouldn't swear that hereyes were wet with unshed tears, but I rather think they were, certainlyshe clasped her hands in piteous appeal. 

"Must you drivel, Bertie? Won't you stop it just this once? Just fortonight, to please Aunt Dahlia?"

"I'm not drivelling. "

"I dare say that to a man of your high standards it doesn't come underthe 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 youroats at dinner tonight. Just sit there, looking blistered, and wave awayeach course as it comes with a weary gesture of resignation. You see whatwill happen. Uncle Tom will notice your loss of appetite, and I amprepared to bet that at the conclusion of the meal he will come to youand say 'Dahlia, darling'--I take it he calls you 'Dahlia'--'Dahliadarling, ' he will say, 'I noticed at dinner tonight that you were a bitoff your feed. Is anything the matter, Dahlia, darling?' 'Why, yes, Tom, darling, ' you will reply. 'It is kind of you to ask, darling. The factis, darling, I am terribly worried. ' 'My darling, ' he will say----"

Aunt Dahlia interrupted at this point to observe that these Traversesseemed to be a pretty soppy couple of blighters, to judge by theirdialogue. 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?' Towhich your reply will be that there jolly well is--viz. Reach for hischeque-book and start writing. "

I was watching her closely as I spoke, and was pleased to note respectsuddenly 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 suggestedit. "

"Jeeves did not suggest it. I resent these implications. Jeeves hadnothing to do with it whatsoever. "

"Well, all right, no need to get excited about it. Yes, I think it willwork. 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 todinner. 

Conditions being as they were at Brinkley Court--I mean to say, the placebeing loaded down above the Plimsoll mark with aching hearts and standingroom only as regarded tortured souls--I hadn't expected the evening mealto be particularly effervescent. Nor was it. Silent. Sombre. The wholething 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 fromthe trough, Aunt Dahlia was a total loss as far as anything in the shapeof brilliant badinage was concerned. The fact that he was fifty quid inthe red and expecting Civilisation to take a toss at any moment hadcaused Uncle Tom, who always looked a bit like a pterodactyl with asecret sorrow, to take on a deeper melancholy. The Bassett was a silentbread crumbler. Angela might have been hewn from the living rock. Tuppyhad the air of a condemned murderer refusing to make the usual heartybreakfast before tooling off to the execution shed. 

And as for Gussie Fink-Nottle, many an experienced undertaker would havebeen deceived by his appearance and started embalming him on sight. 

This was the first glimpse I had had of Gussie since we parted at myflat, and I must say his demeanour disappointed me. I had been expectingsomething 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 himoff was a rural setting. Yet in this aspect now I could detect noindication whatsoever that he was about to round into mid-season form. Hestill looked like a cat in an adage, and it did not take me long torealise that my very first act on escaping from this morgue must be todraw him aside and give him a pep talk. 

If ever a chap wanted the clarion note, it looked as if it was thisFink-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 afterwe had been playing for a while, the butler came in and asked her if shewould speak to Anatole, so I managed to get away. And some ten minuteslater, having failed to find scent in the house, I started to throw outthe 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 removedthe beak as I approached. 

"Well, Gussie, " I said. 

I had beamed genially upon him as I spoke, such being my customary policyon meeting an old pal; but instead of beaming back genially, he gave me amost unpleasant look. His attitude perplexed me. It was as if he were notglad to see Bertram. For a moment he stood letting this unpleasant lookplay 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 Ifound 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. Thatdamned prize-giving! It was a dastardly act to crawl out as you did andshove it off on to me. I will not mince my words. It was the act of ahound and a stinker. "

Now, though, as I have shown, I had devoted most of the time on thejourney down to meditating upon the case of Angela and Tuppy, I had notneglected to give a thought or two to what I was going to say when Iencountered Gussie. I had foreseen that there might be some littletemporary unpleasantness when we met, and when a difficult interview isin the offing Bertram Wooster likes to have his story ready. 

So now I was able to reply with a manly, disarming frankness. The suddenintroduction of the topic had given me a bit of a jolt, it is true, forin the stress of recent happenings I had rather let that prize-givingbusiness 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 wouldunderstand 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. Youdon't suppose I didn't want to distribute those prizes, do you? Left tomyself, there is nothing I would find a greater treat. But I saw that thesquare, generous thing to do was to step aside and let you take it on, soI did so. I felt that your need was greater than mine. You don't mean tosay you aren't looking forward to it?"

He uttered a coarse expression which I wouldn't have thought he wouldhave known. It just shows that you can bury yourself in the country andstill somehow acquire a vocabulary. No doubt one picks up things from theneighbours--the vicar, the local doctor, the man who brings the milk, andso 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 thatplatform, a romantic, impressive figure, the star of the wholeproceedings, the what-d'you-call-it of all eyes. Madeline Bassett will beall 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. ButAugustus Fink-Nottle, the orator--that'll knock her sideways, or I knownothing of the female heart. Girls go potty over a public man. If everanyone did anyone else a kindness, it was I when I gave thisextraordinary attractive assignment to you. "

He seemed impressed by my eloquence. Couldn't have helped himself, ofcourse. The fire faded from behind his horn-rimmed spectacles, and in itsplace 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 apassing slug. 

"Well, " he said, at length, "it may be all right. Possibly I am lettingthe thing prey on my mind too much. I may be wrong in supposing it thefate that is worse than death. But I'll tell you this much: the prospectof that prize-giving on the thirty-first of this month has been turningmy existence into a nightmare. I haven't been able to sleep or think oreat ... By the way, that reminds me. You never explained that ciphertelegram about the sausages and ham. "

"It wasn't a cipher telegram. I wanted you to go light on the food, sothat 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 dothat if I lived on wafer biscuits for the rest of my life. "

"But, dash it, Gussie. In these romantic surroundings. I should havethought 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 hersideways, Bertie? That cold, pure profile. It just takes all the heartout of one. "

"It doesn't. "

"I tell you it does. I catch sight of it, and the words freeze on mylips. "

He spoke with a sort of dull despair, and so manifest was his lack ofginger and the spirit that wins to success that for an instant, Iconfess, I felt a bit stymied. It seemed hopeless to go on trying tosteam up such a human jellyfish. Then I saw the way. With thatextraordinary quickness of mine, I realized exactly what must be done ifthis 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 tothe house and lug this Bassett out for a stroll. I shall talk to her ofhearts that yearn, intimating that there is one actually on the premises. I shall pitch it strong, sparing no effort. You, meanwhile, will lurk onthe outskirts, and in about a quarter of an hour you will come along andcarry on from there. By that time, her emotions having been stirred, youought to be able to do the rest on your head. It will be like leaping onto a moving bus. "

I remember when I was a kid at school having to learn a poem of sortsabout a fellow named Pig-something--a sculptor he would have been, nodoubt--who made a statue of a girl, and what should happen one morningbut that the bally thing suddenly came to life. A pretty nasty shock forthe chap, of course, but the point I'm working round to is that therewere a couple of lines that went, if I remember correctly:

_She starts. She moves. She seems to feelThe stir of life along her keel. _

And what I'm driving at is that you couldn't get a better description ofwhat happened to Gussie as I spoke these heartening words. His browcleared, his eyes brightened, he lost that fishy look, and he gazed atthe slug, which was still on the long, long trail with somethingapproaching 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 willhave to haul up your slacks and give her the old oil, or my efforts willhave been in vain. "

Something of his former Gawd-help-us-ness seemed to return to him. Hegasped a bit. 

"That's true. What the dickens shall I say?"

I restrained my impatience with an effort. The man had been at schoolwith me. 

"Dash it, there are hundreds of things you can say. Talk about thesunset. "

"The sunset?"

"Certainly. Half the married men you meet began by talking about thesunset. "

"But what can I say about the sunset?"

"Well, Jeeves got off a good one the other day. I met him airing the dogin the park one evening, and he said, 'Now fades the glimmering landscapeon the sight, sir, and all the air a solemn stillness holds. ' You mightuse that. "

"What sort of landscape?"

"Glimmering. _G_ for 'gastritis, ' _l_ for 'lizard'----"

"Oh, glimmering? Yes, that's not bad. Glimmering landscape ... Solemnstillness.... Yes, I call that pretty good. "

"You could then say that you have often thought that the stars are God'sdaisy chain. "

"But I haven't. "

"I dare say not. But she has. Hand her that one, and I don't see how shecan 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 makesyou sad. I know you're going to say it doesn't, but on this occasion ithas 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. Itwouldn't be a bad idea to give her a brief description of a typical homeevening at your Lincolnshire residence, showing how you pace the meadowswith 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 youhad someone to love you. And then you speak of the day when she came intoyour life. "

"Like a fairy princess. "

"Absolutely, " I said with approval. I hadn't expected such a hot one fromsuch 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 sayto her, and then you snap into it. I don't see how it can fail. If I wereyou, I should do it in this rose garden. It is well established thatthere is no sounder move than to steer the adored object into rosegardens in the gloaming. And you had better have a couple of quick onesfirst. "

"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 isgenerally conceded that a moderate skinful is of the essence. 

However, if the facts were as he had stated, I supposed there was nothingto 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 likethat muck?"

"Very much. "

"Then there is no more to be said. Now, let's just have a run through, tosee that you've got the lay-out straight. Start off with the glimmeringlandscape. "

"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 mightnow be expected to proceed through the proper channels, I picked up thefeet and hastened back to the house. 

It was not until I had reached the drawing-room and was enabled to take asquare look at the Bassett that I found the debonair gaiety with which Ihad embarked on this affair beginning to wane a trifle. Beholding her atclose range like this, I suddenly became cognisant of what I was in for. The thought of strolling with this rummy specimen undeniably gave me amost unpleasant sinking feeling. I could not but remember how often, whenin her company at Cannes, I had gazed dumbly at her, wishing that somekindly motorist in a racing car would ease the situation by coming alongand ramming her amidships. As I have already made abundantly clear, thisgirl was not one of my most congenial buddies. 

However, a Wooster's word is his bond. Woosters may quail, but they donot edge out. Only the keenest ear could have detected the tremor in thevoice 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 abit about the scenery, and self replying, "Oh, rather, quite, " andwondering how best to approach the matter in hand. 

-10-

How different it all would have been, I could not but reflect, if thisgirl had been the sort of girl one chirrups cheerily to over thetelephone and takes for spins in the old two-seater. In that case, Iwould simply have said, "Listen, " and she would have said, "What?" and Iwould 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 saideither, "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 inunder a minute. 

But with the Bassett something less snappy and a good deal more glutinouswas obviously indicated. What with all this daylight-saving stuff, we hadhit the great open spaces at a moment when twilight had not yet begun tocheese it in favour of the shades of night. There was a fag-end of sunsetstill functioning. Stars were beginning to peep out, bats were foolinground, the garden was full of the aroma of those niffy white flowerswhich only start to put in their heavy work at the end of the day--inshort, the glimmering landscape was fading on the sight and all the airheld a solemn stillness, and it was plain that this was having the worsteffect on her. Her eyes were enlarged, and her whole map a good deal toosuggestive of the soul's awakening for comfort. 

Her aspect was that of a girl who was expecting something fairly fruityfrom Bertram. 

In these circs. , conversation inevitably flagged a bit. I am never at mybest when the situation seems to call for a certain soupiness, and I'veheard other members of the Drones say the same thing about themselves. Iremember Pongo Twistleton telling me that he was out in a gondola with agirl by moonlight once, and the only time he spoke was to tell her thatold story about the chap who was so good at swimming that they made him atraffic cop in Venice. 

Fell rather flat, he assured me, and it wasn't much later when the girlsaid she thought it was getting a little chilly and how about pushingback to the hotel. 

So now, as I say, the talk rather hung fire. It had been all very wellfor me to promise Gussie that I would cut loose to this girl about achinghearts, but you want a cue for that sort of thing. And when, toddlingalong, we reached the edge of the lake and she finally spoke, conceive mychagrin 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 thisat Cannes, where she had drawn my attention in this manner on variousoccasions to such diverse objects as a French actress, a Provençalfilling station, the sunset over the Estorels, Michael Arlen, a manselling 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 ofway 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 isborn 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 tocheck up with her statement that the stars were God's daisy chain. Imean, you can't have it both ways. 

However, I was in no mood to dissect and criticize. I saw that I had beenwrong in supposing that the stars were not germane to the issue. Quite adecent cue they had provided, and I leaped on it Promptly: "Talking ofshedding tears----"

But she was now on the subject of rabbits, several of which were messingabout 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 hasgone 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 ifI 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 loonything I should have expected her to think as a child, I returned to thepoint. 

"Talking of shedding tears, " I said firmly, "it may interest you to knowthat there is an aching heart in Brinkley Court. "

This held her. She cheesed the rabbit theme. Her face, which had beenaglow with what I supposed was a pretty animation, clouded. She unshippeda 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 likeelves of delight. And all through a foolish misunderstanding about ashark. What a tragedy misunderstandings are. That pretty romance brokenand 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 clippingher one on the ear-hole, but I would have given a shilling to be able todo it. There seemed to me something deliberately fat-headed in the wayshe 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'srow with Angela. It's aching for a different reason altogether. I mean tosay--dash it, you know why hearts ache!"

She seemed to shimmy a bit. Her voice, when she spoke, was whispery: "Youmean--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 atfirst sight, and ever since it's been eating itself out, as I believe theexpression is. "

There was a silence. She had turned away and was watching a duck out onthe lake. It was tucking into weeds, a thing I've never been able tounderstand anyone wanting to do. Though I suppose, if you face itsquarely, they're no worse than spinach. She stood drinking it in for abit, and then it suddenly stood on its head and disappeared, and thisseemed to break the spell. 

"Oh, Mr. Wooster!" she said again, and from the tone of her voice, Icould see that I had got her going. 

"For you, I mean to say, " I proceeded, starting to put in the fancytouches. I dare say you have noticed on these occasions that thedifficulty is to plant the main idea, to get the general outline of thething well fixed. The rest is mere detail work. I don't say I became glibat this juncture, but I certainly became a dashed glibber than I hadbeen. 

"It's having the dickens of a time. Can't eat, can't sleep--all for loveof you. And what makes it all so particularly rotten is that it--thisaching heart--can't bring itself up to the scratch and tell you theposition of affairs, because your profile has gone and given it coldfeet. Just as it is about to speak, it catches sight of you sideways, andwords 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. Idon't know if you suffer in the same way, but with me the act of talkinganything in the nature of real mashed potatoes always induces a sort ofprickly sensation and a hideous feeling of shame, together with a markedstarting of the pores. 

I remember at my Aunt Agatha's place in Hertfordshire once being put onthe spot and forced to enact the role of King Edward III saying goodbyeto that girl of his, Fair Rosamund, at some sort of pageant in aid of theDistressed Daughters of the Clergy. It involved some rather warmishmedieval dialogue, I recall, racy of the days when they called a spade aspade, and by the time the whistle blew, I'll bet no Daughter of theClergy 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 bentan 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 whatyou mean. I suspected this at Cannes, when you used to stand and stare atme 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 moreconvulsively. So tensely had I been concentrating on Gussie's intereststhat it hadn't so much as crossed my mind that another and an unfortunateconstruction could be placed on those words of mine. The persp. , alreadybedewing my brow, became a regular Niagara. 

My whole fate hung upon a woman's word. I mean to say, I couldn't backout. If a girl thinks a man is proposing to her, and on thatunderstanding books him up, he can't explain to her that she has got holdof entirely the wrong end of the stick and that he hadn't the smallestintention of suggesting anything of the kind. He must simply let it ride. And the thought of being engaged to a girl who talked openly aboutfairies 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 myfists till I shouldn't wonder if the knuckles didn't stand out whiteunder 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 tryingto say. A girl always knows. And then you followed me down here, andthere was that same dumb, yearning look in your eyes when we met thisevening. And then you were so insistent that I should come out and walkwith 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 ofmeat sauce, red pepper, and the yolk of an egg--though, as I say, I amconvinced that these are not the sole ingredients--had been shot into me, I expanded like some lovely flower blossoming in the sunshine. It was allright, 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 onto 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 atender 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 pityingsort of way, much as if I had been a snail she had happened accidentallyto bring her short French vamp down on, and I longed to tell her that itwas 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 thatsort 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. MayI?"

"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.... Youhave a right to know.... I don't want you to think----Life is such amuddle, isn't it?"

To many men, no doubt, these broken utterances would have appeared meredrooling and would have been dismissed as such. But the Woosters arequicker-witted than the ordinary and can read between the lines. Isuddenly 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 shespoke, it certainly looked as if poor old Gussie might as well scratchhis name off the entry list, and I didn't at all like the prospect ofhaving to break the bad news to him. I had studied the man closely, andit 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 isone that springs to the lips--who, if turned down by a girl, would simplysay, "Well, bung-oh!" and toddle off quite happily to find another. Hewas so manifestly a bird who, having failed to score in the firstchukker, would turn the thing up and spend the rest of his life broodingover his newts and growing long grey whiskers, like one of those chapsyou read about in novels, who live in the great white house you can justsee over there through the trees and shut themselves off from the worldand have pained faces. 

"I'm afraid he doesn't care for me in that way. At least, he has saidnothing. 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 firstsight. " She half closed her eyes. "'Who ever loved that loved not atfirst sight?'" she said in a rummy voice that brought back to me--I don'tknow why--the picture of my Aunt Agatha, as Boadicea, reciting at thatpageant I was speaking of. "It's a silly little story. I was staying withsome friends in the country, and I had gone for a walk with my dog, andthe poor wee mite got a nasty thorn in his little foot and I didn't knowwhat to do. And then suddenly this man came along----"

Harking back once again to that pageant, in sketching out for you myemotions on that occasion, I showed you only the darker side of thepicture. There was, I should now mention, a splendid aftermath when, having climbed out of my suit of chain mail and sneaked off to the localpub, I entered the saloon bar and requested mine host to start pouring. Amoment later, a tankard of their special home-brewed was in my hand, andthe ecstasy of that first gollup is still green in my memory. Therecollection of the agony through which I had passed was just what wasneeded to make it perfect. 

It was the same now. When I realized, listening to her words, that shemust be referring to Gussie--I mean to say, there couldn't have been awhole platoon of men taking thorns out of her dog that day; the animalwasn't a pin-cushion--and became aware that Gussie, who an instant beforehad, to all appearances, gone so far back in the betting as not to beworth a quotation, was the big winner after all, a positive thrillpermeated the frame and there escaped my lips a "Wow!" so crisp andhearty that the Bassett leaped a liberal inch and a half from terrafirma. 

"I beg your pardon?" she said. 

I waved a jaunty hand. 

"Nothing, " I said. "Nothing. Just remembered there's a letter I have towrite 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 wasbeyond a question absolutely in order. All Gussie had to do was keep hishead down and not press. Already, I felt, as I legged it back to thehouse, the happy ending must have begun to function. I mean to say, whenyou leave a girl and a man, each of whom has admitted in set terms thatshe 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 earnedtwo-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 aglass an inch or so of the raw spirit and shoosh some soda-water on topof it was with me the work of a moment. This done, I retired to anarm-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 thatpeaceful garden, I felt bucked and uplifted. Though never for an instantfaltering in my opinion that Augustus Fink-Nottle was Nature's final wordin cloth-headed guffins, I liked the man, wished him well, and could nothave felt more deeply involved in the success of his wooing if I, and nothe, had been under the ether. 

The thought that by this time he might quite easily have completed thepreliminary _pourparlers_ and be deep in an informal discussion ofhoneymoon plans was very pleasant to me. 

Of course, considering the sort of girl Madeline Bassett was--stars andrabbits and all that, I mean--you might say that a sober sadness wouldhave been more fitting. But in these matters you have got to realize thattastes differ. The impulse of right-thinking men might be to run a milewhen they saw the Bassett, but for some reason she appealed to the deepsin Gussie, so that was that. 

I had reached this point in my meditations, when I was aroused by thesound of the door opening. Somebody came in and started moving like aleopard toward the side-table and, lowering the feet, I perceived that itwas Tuppy Glossop. 

The sight of him gave me a momentary twinge of remorse, reminding me, asit did, that in the excitement of getting Gussie fixed up I had ratherforgotten about this other client. It is often that way when you'retrying to run two cases at once. 

However, Gussie now being off my mind, I was prepared to devote my wholeattention to the Glossop problem. 

I had been much pleased by the way he had carried out the task assignedhim at the dinner-table. No easy one, I can assure you, for the browsingand sluicing had been of the highest quality, and there had been one dishin particular--I allude to the _nonnettes de poulet Agnès Sorel_--whichmight well have broken down the most iron resolution. But he had passedit 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 privationshad tried him sorely. He was looking like a wolf on the steppes of Russiawhich 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 thesoul. 

"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 backto 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 itdidn't register in any way whatsoever. "

"Come, Tuppy, " I urged, "this is morbid. Don't take this gloomy view. Shemust at least have spotted that you refused those _nonnettes de pouletAgnès Sorel_. It was a sensational renunciation and stuck out like a sorethumb. 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 badenough to have sat watching one of Anatole's supremest dinners flit by, course after course, without having you making a song about it? Don'tremind 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 inthe 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. Youwould bring that pie up, wouldn't you? Just when I was trying to keep mymind 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. Thenhe rose and began to pace the room in an overwrought sort of way, like azoo lion who has heard the dinner-gong go and is hoping the keeper won'tforget him in the general distribution. I averted my gaze tactfully, butI could hear him kicking chairs and things. It was plain that the man'ssoul was in travail and his blood pressure high. 

Presently he returned to his seat, and I saw that he was looking at meintently. There was that about his demeanour that led me to think that hehad 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 feelthat 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 asclear 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 CannesAngela loved me. She was all over me. I was the blue-eyed boy in everysense 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 hershark. "

"I was frank and candid about her shark. And that's my point. Do youseriously believe that a trifling disagreement about sharks would make agirl 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 neverbeen very hot on the finer shades. He's one of those large, tough, football-playing blokes who lack the more delicate sensibilities, as I'veheard Jeeves call them. Excellent at blocking a punt or walking across anopponent's face in cleated boots, but not so good when it comes tounderstanding the highly-strung female temperament. It simply wouldn'toccur to him that a girl might be prepared to give up her life'shappiness 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 thefirst 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, shecomes back all off me. Obviously during those two months, she must havetransferred 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 onething, and you can take this as official. If ever I find this slimy, slithery snake in the grass, he had better make all the necessaryarrangements at his favourite nursing-home without delay, because I amgoing to be very rough with him. I propose, if and when found, to takehim by his beastly neck, shake him till he froths, and pull him insideout and make him swallow himself. "

With which words he biffed off; and I, having given him a minute or twoto get out of the way, rose and made for the drawing-room. The tendencyof females to roost in drawing-rooms after dinner being well marked, Iexpected to find Angela there. It was my intention to have a word withAngela. 

To Tuppy's theory that some insinuating bird had stolen the girl's heartfrom 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'syoung dream to go temporarily off the boil, and I was convinced that aword or two with the cousin at this juncture would set everything right. 

For, frankly, I thought it incredible that a girl of her naturalsweetness and tender-heartedness should not have been moved to herfoundations by what she had seen at dinner that night. Even Seppings, Aunt Dahlia's butler, a cold, unemotional man, had gasped and practicallyreeled when Tuppy waved aside those _nonnettes de poulet Agnès Sorel_, while the footman, standing by with the potatoes, had stared like oneseeing a vision. I simply refused to consider the possibility of thesignificance of the thing having been lost on a nice girl like Angela. Ifully expected to find her in the drawing-room with her heart bleedingfreely, all ripe for an immediate reconciliation. 

In the drawing-room, however, when I entered, only Aunt Dahlia met theeye. It seemed to me that she gave me rather a jaundiced look as I hovein sight, but this, having so recently beheld Tuppy in his agony, Iattributed to the fact that she, like him, had been going light on themenu. 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 hasobserved the sundered lover sensationally off his feed does not go to bedwith headaches if love has been reborn in her heart. She sticks aroundand gives him the swift, remorseful glance from beneath the droopingeyelashes and generally endeavours to convey to him that, if he wants toget together across a round table and try to find a formula, she is allfor it too. Yes, I am bound to say I found that going-to-bed stuff a bitdisquieting. 

"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 ofinterest. "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 thegreenhouses into the kitchen garden. If you go along it, you come to apond. "

"That's right. "

"Well, will you get a good, stout piece of rope or cord and go down thatpath till you come to the pond----"

"To the pond. Right. "

"--and look about you till you find a nice, heavy stone. Or a fairlylarge 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 therope to the brick and tie it around your damned neck and jump into thepond and drown yourself. In a few days I will send and have you fished upand 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 herlips; determined that she would not remain another day in this house tobe insulted and misunderstood. " I felt much about the same. 

Then I reminded myself that one has got to make allowances for a womanwith only about half a spoonful of soup inside her, and I checked thered-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 whotalked me, against my better judgment, into going without my dinner? Imight 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 onthe hollow side, what? But the agony will pass. If I were you, I'd sneakdown and raid the larder after the household have gone to bed. I am toldthere's a pretty good steak-and-kidney pie there which will repayinspection. Have faith, Aunt Dahlia, " I urged. "Pretty soon Uncle Tomwill 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 aboutcivilization and melting pots. "

"Eh? Why?"

"Because it has just been my painful duty to inform him that Anatole hasgiven notice. "

I own that I reeled. 

"What?"

"Given notice. As the result of that drivelling scheme of yours. What didyou expect a sensitive, temperamental French cook to do, if you wentabout urging everybody to refuse all food? I hear that when the first twocourses came back to the kitchen practically untouched, his feelings wereso hurt that he cried like a child. And when the rest of the dinnerfollowed, he came to the conclusion that the whole thing was a studiedand 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. Imight have known that some hideous disaster would strike this house likea thunderbolt if once you wriggled your way into it and started trying tobe clever. "

Harsh words, of course, as from aunt to nephew, but I bore her noresentment. No doubt, if you looked at it from a certain angle, Bertrammight 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 witha 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 gettingthat money out of him has gone. "

I stroked the chin thoughtfully. There was, I had to admit, reason inwhat she said. None knew better than I how terrible a blow the passing ofAnatole would be to Uncle Tom. 

I have stated earlier in this chronicle that this curious object of theseashore with whom Aunt Dahlia has linked her lot is a bloke whohabitually looks like a pterodactyl that has suffered, and the reason hedoes so is that all those years he spent in making millions in the FarEast put his digestion on the blink, and the only cook that has ever beendiscovered capable of pushing food into him without starting somethinglike Old Home Week in Moscow under the third waistcoat button is thisuniquely gifted Anatole. Deprived of Anatole's services, all he waslikely 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 admitthat I found myself, at moment of going to press, a little destitute ofconstructive ideas. 

Confident, however, that these would come ere long, I kept the stiffupper lip. 

"Bad, " I conceded. "Quite bad, beyond a doubt. Certainly a nasty jar forone and all. But have no fear, Aunt Dahlia, I will fix everything. "

I have alluded earlier to the difficulty of staggering when you'resitting down, showing that it is a feat of which I, personally, am notcapable. Aunt Dahlia, to my amazement, now did it apparently without aneffort. She was well wedged into a deep arm-chair, but, nevertheless, shestaggered like billy-o. A sort of spasm of horror and apprehensioncontorted 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. Quiteplainly, she was not in the vein. Contenting myself, accordingly, with agesture of loving sympathy, I left the room. Whether she did or did notthrow a handsomely bound volume of the Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson, atme, I am not in a position to say. I had seen it lying on the tablebeside her, and as I closed the door I remember receiving the impressionthat some blunt instrument had crashed against the woodwork, but I wasfeeling too pre-occupied to note and observe. 

I blame myself for not having taken into consideration the possibleeffects of a sudden abstinence on the part of virtually the wholestrength of the company on one of Anatole's impulsive Provençaltemperament. These Gauls, I should have remembered, can't take it. Theirtendency to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation is wellknown. No doubt the man had put his whole soul into those _nonnettes depoulet_, and to see them come homing back to him must have gashed himlike a knife. 

However, spilt milk blows nobody any good, and it is useless to dwellupon it. The task now confronting Bertram was to put matters right, and Iwas pacing the lawn, pondering to this end, when I suddenly heard a groanso 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 wasabout to resume my meditations, when the sound came again. And peeringinto the shadows I observed a dim form seated on one of the rusticbenches which so liberally dotted this pleasance and another dim formstanding beside same. A second and more penetrating glance and I hadassembled 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, wasmore than I could understand. 

Because, I mean to say, there was no possibility of error. He wasn'tsinging. As I approached, he gave an encore, and it was beyond question agroan. Moreover, I could now see him clearly, and his whole aspect wasdefinitely 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 nolonger disguise it from myself that something must have gone seriouslywrong with the works. I mean, I know marriage is a pretty solemn businessand the realization that he is in for it frequently churns a chap up abit, but I had never come across a case of a newly-engaged man taking iton 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 beunpleasant 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. Allright, 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 bleatedlike a lamb drawing itself to the attention of the parent sheep, "whatthe dickens is all this?"

"Mr. Fink-Nottle is not quite himself, sir. He has passed through atrying 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 linesand 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 ofnervousness, sir. Upon finding himself alone with the young lady, headmits to having lost his morale. In such circumstances, gentlemenfrequently talk at random, saying the first thing that chances to entertheir heads. This, in Mr. Fink-Nottle's case, would seem to have been thenewt, its treatment in sickness and in health. "

The scales fell from my eyes. I understood. I had had the same sort ofthing happen to me in moments of crisis. I remember once detaining adentist with the drill at one of my lower bicuspids and holding him upfor nearly ten minutes with a story about a Scotchman, an Irishman, and aJew. 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 simplybabbles. 

I could put myself in Gussie's place. I could envisage the scene. Therehe and the Bassett were, alone together in the evening stillness. Nodoubt, as I had advised, he had shot the works about sunsets and fairyprincesses, and so forth, and then had arrived at the point where he hadto 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 whichher 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 somethingsuddenly seemed to catch him in the pit of the stomach and everythingwent black and he heard his voice starting to drool about newts. Yes, Icould follow the psychology. 

Nevertheless, I found myself blaming Gussie. On discovering that he wasstressing the newt note in this manner, he ought, of course, to havetuned out, even if it had meant sitting there saying nothing. No matterhow much of a twitter he was in, he should have had sense enough to seethat he was throwing a spanner into the works. No girl, when she has beenled to expect that a man is about to pour forth his soul in a fervour ofpassion, likes to find him suddenly shelving the whole topic in favour ofan 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 completeinformation not only with respect to the common newt, but also thecrested and palmated varieties. He described to her how newts, duringthe breeding season, live in the water, subsisting upon tadpoles, insectlarvae, and crustaceans; how, later, they make their way to the land andeat slugs and worms; and how the newly born newt has three pairs of long, plumlike, external gills. And he was just observing that newts differfrom salamanders in the shape of the tail, which is compressed, and thata marked sexual dimorphism prevails in most species, when the young ladyrose 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 mewhat a particularly difficult chap Gussie was to help. He seemed to somarked an extent to lack snap and finish. With infinite toil, youmanoeuvred 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 objectivecompletely. 

"Difficult, Jeeves. "

"Yes, sir. "

In happier circs. , of course, I would have canvassed his views on thematter. 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 motionlessin the shadows. It seemed to me that it was hard to know what to do forthe best. 

-12-

I don't know if it has happened you to at all, but a thing I've noticedwith myself is that, when I'm confronted by a problem which seems for themoment to stump and baffle, a good sleep will often bring the solution inthe morning. 

It was so on the present occasion. 

The nibs who study these matters claim, I believe, that this has gotsomething to do with the subconscious mind, and very possibly they may beright. I wouldn't have said off-hand that I had a subconscious mind, butI suppose I must without knowing it, and no doubt it was there, sweatingaway diligently at the old stand, all the while the corporeal Wooster wasgetting his eight hours. 

For directly I opened my eyes on the morrow, I saw daylight. Well, Idon't mean that exactly, because naturally I did. What I mean is that Ifound I had the thing all mapped out. The good old subconscious m. Haddelivered the goods, and I perceived exactly what steps must be taken inorder to put Augustus Fink-Nottle among the practising Romeos. 

I should like you, if you can spare me a moment of your valuable time, tothrow your mind back to that conversation he and I had had in the gardenon the previous evening. Not the glimmering landscape bit, I don't meanthat, but the concluding passages of it. Having done so, you will recallthat when he informed me that he never touched alcoholic liquor, I shookthe head a bit, feeling that this must inevitably weaken him as a forcewhere 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 proveda complete bust. In a situation calling for words of molten passion of anature calculated to go through Madeline Bassett like a red-hot gimletthrough half a pound of butter, he had said not a syllable that couldbring a blush to the cheek of modesty, merely delivering a well-phrasedbut, in the circumstances, quite misplaced lecture on newts. 

A romantic girl is not to be won by such tactics. Obviously, beforeattempting to proceed further, Augustus Fink-Nottle must be induced tothrow off the shackling inhibitions of the past and fuel up. It must be aprimed, 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, forprinting the announcement of the forthcoming nuptials. 

Having arrived at this conclusion I found the rest easy, and by the timeJeeves 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 thepreliminary "I say, Jeeves"--when we were interrupted by the arrival ofTuppy. 

He came listlessly into the room, and I was pained to observe that anight's rest had effected no improvement in the unhappy wreck'sappearance. Indeed, I should have said, if anything, that he was lookingrather more moth-eaten than when I had seen him last. If you canvisualize a bulldog which has just been kicked in the ribs and had itsdinner sneaked by the cat, you will have Hildebrand Glossop as he nowstood before me. 

"Stap my vitals, Tuppy, old corpse, " I said, concerned, "you're lookingpretty blue round the rims. "

Jeeves slid from the presence in that tactful, eel-like way of his, and Imotioned 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 coverletin 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 photographof my Uncle Tom in some sort of Masonic uniform which stood on themantelpiece. I've tried to reason with Aunt Dahlia about this photographfor years, placing before her two alternative suggestions: (a) To burnthe beastly thing; or (b) if she must preserve it, to shove me inanother room when I come to stay. But she declines to accede. She saysit's good for me. A useful discipline, she maintains, teaching me thatthere is a darker side to life and that we were not put into this worldfor 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, Isuppose? Well, have no fear. I have another well-laid plan forencompassing that young shrimp. I'll guarantee that she will be weepingon 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 todescribe 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'sgone 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 thisAngela 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. Ihad stayed at Brinkley Court quite a lot in my time, but I had no ideathe larder was such a social vortex. More like a snack bar on arace-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 mosttrivial 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 aboutthat steak-and-kidney pie. "

"Quite. "

"Well, round about one a. M. I thought the time was ripe. I stole from myroom 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 foundknife and fork. I collected salt, mustard, and pepper. There were somecold potatoes. I added those. And I was about to pitch in when I heard asound behind me, and there was your aunt at the door. In a blue-and-yellowdressing 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 pyjamasand carried a pistol. Have you ever seen your uncle in pyjamas and apistol?"

"Never. "

"You haven't missed much. "

"Tell me, Tuppy, " I asked, for I was anxious to ascertain this, "aboutAngela. Was there any momentary softening in her gaze as she fixed it onyou?"

"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 shereplied, 'Well, if it comes to that, my merry somnambulist, what areyou?' Your uncle then said that he thought there must be burglars in thehouse, as he had heard noises. "

I nodded again. I could follow the trend. Ever since the scullery windowwas found open the year Shining Light was disqualified in the Cesarewitchfor boring, Uncle Tom has had a marked complex about burglars. I canstill recall my emotions when, paying my first visit after he had barsput on all the windows and attempting to thrust the head out in order toget a sniff of country air, I nearly fractured my skull on a sort of irongrille, 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 littlebuzzard--observed, 'I expect it was Mr. Glossop eating. ' And then she didgive me a look. It was the sort of wondering, revolted look a veryspiritual woman would give a fat man gulping soup in a restaurant. Thekind of look that makes a fellow feel he's forty-six round the waist andhas great rolls of superfluous flesh pouring down over the back of hiscollar. And, still speaking in the same unpleasant tone, she added, 'Iought to have told you, father, that Mr. Glossop always likes to have agood meal three or four times during the night. It helps to keep himgoing till breakfast. He has the most amazing appetite. See, he haspractically finished a large steak-and-kidney pie already'. "

As he spoke these words, a feverish animation swept over Tuppy. His eyesglittered with a strange light, and he thumped the bed violently with hisfist, nearly catching me a juicy one on the leg. 

"That was what hurt, Bertie. That was what stung. I hadn't so much asstarted 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. Glossoploves food. He just lives for it. He always eats six or seven meals aday, and then starts in again after bedtime. I think it's ratherwonderful. ' Your aunt seemed interested, and said it reminded her of aboa constrictor. Angela said, didn't she mean a python? And then theyargued as to which of the two it was. Your uncle, meanwhile, poking aboutwith that damned pistol of his till human life wasn't safe in thevicinity. And the pie lying there on the table, and me unable to touchit. 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 thatAngela was right and that it was a python that I reminded them of. Andshortly after that we all pushed back to bed, Angela warning me in amotherly voice not to take the stairs too quickly. After seven or eightsolid 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 withdogs. When they became very fat and overfed, you had to see that theydidn't hurry upstairs, as it made them puff and pant, and that was badfor their hearts. She asked your aunt if she remembered the late spaniel, Ambrose; and your aunt said, 'Poor old Ambrose, you couldn't keep himaway from the garbage pail'; and Angela said, 'Exactly, so do please becareful, 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 nowless than the dust beneath her chariot wheels. She became infatuated withthis chap, whoever he was, at Cannes, and now she can't stand the sightof me. "

I raised my eyebrows. 

"My dear Tuppy, you are not showing your usual good sense in thisAngela-chap-at-Cannes matter. If you will forgive me saying so, you havegot an _idée fixe_. "

"A what?"

"An _idée fixe_. You know. One of those things fellows get. Like UncleTom's delusion that everybody who is known even slightly to the police islurking in the garden, waiting for a chance to break into the house. Youkeep talking about this chap at Cannes, and there never was a chap atCannes, and I'll tell you why I'm so sure about this. During those twomonths on the Riviera, it so happens that Angela and I were practicallyinseparable. If there had been somebody nosing round her, I should havespotted 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 atthe Casino. "

"I see. You mean that anything in the shape of mixed bathing andmoonlight 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 gongfrom the hall below, and he started like a war horse at the sound of thebugle. 

"Breakfast!" he said, and was off to a flying start, leaving me to broodand ponder. And the more I brooded and pondered, the more did it seem tome that everything now looked pretty smooth. Tuppy, I could see, despitethat painful scene in the larder, still loved Angela with all the oldfervour. 

This meant that I could rely on that plan to which I had referred tobring home the bacon. And as I had found the way to straighten out theGussie-Bassett difficulty, there seemed nothing more to worry about. 

It was with an uplifted heart that I addressed Jeeves as he came in toremove the tea tray. 

-13-

"Jeeves, " I said. 

"Sir?"

"I've just been having a chat with young Tuppy, Jeeves. Did youhappen 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 withthe pale cast of thought. "

"Quite. He met my cousin Angela in the larder last night, and a ratherpainful interview ensued. "

"I am sorry, sir. "

"Not half so sorry as he was. She found him closeted with asteak-and-kidney pie, and appears to have been a bit caustic about fatmen who lived for food alone. "

"Most disturbing, sir. "

"Very. In fact, many people would say that things had gone so far betweenthese two nothing now could bridge the chasm. A girl who could makecracks about human pythons who ate nine or ten meals a day and ought tobe careful not to hurry upstairs because of the danger of apoplectic fitsis a girl, many people would say, in whose heart love is dead. Wouldn'tpeople 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 theysay. "

"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 tiffoccurs, and they shoot their heads off. But underneath it all the oldlove 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 whatmust 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 waitedrespectfully for me to unleash the words of wisdom. I must say for Jeevesthat--till, as he is so apt to do, he starts shoving his oar in andcavilling and obstructing--he makes a very good audience. I don't know ifhe is actually agog, but he looks agog, and that's the great thing. 

"Suppose you were strolling through the illimitable jungle, Jeeves, andhappened 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 supposefurther that word reached its mother that it was being put upon. Whatwould you expect the attitude of that mother to be? In what frame of minddo 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 somelittle 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 thatwould make any difference to the vim with which the latter would leap tothe former's aid?"

"No, sir. "

"Exactly. Here, then, in brief, is my plan, Jeeves. I am going to draw myCousin Angela aside to a secluded spot and roast Tuppy properly. "

"Roast, sir?"

"Knock. Slam. Tick-off. Abuse. Denounce. I shall be very terse aboutTuppy, giving it as my opinion that in all essentials he is more like awart hog than an ex-member of a fine old English public school. What willensue? Hearing him attacked, my Cousin Angela's womanly heart will be assick as mud. The maternal tigress in her will awake. No matter whatdifferences they may have had, she will remember only that he is the manshe loves, and will leap to his defence. And from that to falling intohis arms and burying the dead past will be but a step. How do you reactto 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 formbook. I have tested this theory. "

"Indeed, sir?"

"Yes, in person. And it works. I was standing on the Eden rock at Antibeslast 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 Ididn't think his legs were about the silliest-looking pair of props everissued to human being. I replied that I did, indeed, and for the space ofperhaps two minutes was extraordinarily witty and satirical about thisbird's underpinning. At the end of that period, I suddenly felt as if Ihad been caught up in the tail of a cyclone. 

"Beginning with a _critique_ of my own limbs, which she said, justlyenough, were nothing to write home about, this girl went on to dissect mymanners, morals, intellect, general physique, and method of eatingasparagus with such acerbity that by the time she had finished the bestyou could say of Bertram was that, so far as was known, he had neveractually committed murder or set fire to an orphan asylum. Subsequentinvestigation proved that she was engaged to the fellow with the legs andhad had a slight disagreement with him the evening before on the subjectof whether she should or should not have made an original call of twospades, having seven, but without the ace. That night I saw them diningtogether with every indication of relish, their differences made up andthe lovelight once more in their eyes. That shows you, Jeeves. "

"Yes, sir. "

"I expect precisely similar results from my Cousin Angela when I startroasting Tuppy. By lunchtime, I should imagine, the engagement will be onagain and the diamond-and-platinum ring glittering as of yore on herthird finger. Or is it the fourth?"

"Scarcely by luncheon time, sir. Miss Angela's maid informs me that MissAngela drove off in her car early this morning with the intention ofspending the day with friends in the vicinity. "

"Well, within half an hour of whatever time she comes back, then. Theseare 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 saywith 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 heartsbeing estranged. "

"I can readily appreciate the fact, sir. "

I placed the stub of my gasper in the ash tray and lit another, toindicate that that completed Chap. I. 

"Right ho, then. So much for the western front. We now turn to theeastern. "

"Sir?"

"I speak in parables, Jeeves. What I mean is, we now approach the matterof Gussie and Miss Bassett. "

"Yes, sir. "

"Here, Jeeves, more direct methods are required. In handling the case ofAugustus Fink-Nottle, we must keep always in mind the fact that we aredealing 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 theerror 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 byrigging him out in a Mephistopheles costume and sending him off to afancy-dress ball, your view being that scarlet tights would emboldenhim. 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 thereis manifestly a poop of no common order. I don't think I have ever knownanybody else who was such a dashed silly ass that he couldn't even get toa fancy-dress ball. Have you, Jeeves?"

"No, sir. "

"But don't forget this, because it is the point I wish, above all, tomake: Even if Gussie had got to that ball; even if those scarlet tights, taken in conjunction with his horn-rimmed spectacles, hadn't given thegirl a fit of some kind; even if she had rallied from the shock and hehad been able to dance and generally hobnob with her; even then yourefforts would have been fruitless, because, Mephistopheles costume or noMephistopheles costume, Augustus Fink-Nottle would never have been ableto summon up the courage to ask her to be his. All that would haveresulted would have been that she would have got that lecture on newts afew days earlier. And why, Jeeves? Shall I tell you why?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Because he would have been attempting the hopeless task of trying to dothe 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, orbecause he promised his mother he wouldn't, or simply because he doesn'tlike the taste of the stuff, Gussie Fink-Nottle has never in the wholecourse of his career pushed so much as the simplest gin and tonic overthe larynx. And he expects--this poop expects, Jeeves--this wabbling, shrinking, diffident rabbit in human shape expects under these conditionsto propose to the girl he loves. One hardly knows whether to smile orweep, what?"

"You consider total abstinence a handicap to a gentleman who wishes tomake a proposal of marriage, sir?"

The question amazed me. 

"Why, dash it, " I said, astounded, "you must know it is. Use yourintelligence, Jeeves. Reflect what proposing means. It means that adecent, self-respecting chap has got to listen to himself saying thingswhich, if spoken on the silver screen, would cause him to dash to thebox-office and demand his money back. Let him attempt to do it on orangejuice, 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 wehave seen, babbles of syncopated newts. "

"Palmated newts, sir. "

"Palmated or syncopated, it doesn't matter which. The point is that hebabbles 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. Onlyactive measures, promptly applied, can provide this poor, pusillanimouspoop with the proper pep. And that is why, Jeeves, I intend tomorrow tosecure a bottle of gin and lace his luncheon orange juice withit liberally. "

"Sir?"

I clicked the tongue. 

"I have already had occasion, Jeeves, " I said rebukingly, "to comment onthe way you say 'Well, sir' and 'Indeed, sir?' I take this opportunity ofinforming you that I object equally strongly to your 'Sir?' pure andsimple. The word seems to suggest that in your opinion I have made astatement or mooted a scheme so bizarre that your brain reels at it. Inthe present instance, there is absolutely nothing to say 'Sir?' about. The plan I have put forward is entirely reasonable and icily logical, andshould excite no sirring whatsoever. Or don't you think so?"

"Well, sir----"

"Jeeves!"

"I beg your pardon, sir. The expression escaped me inadvertently. What Iintended to say, since you press me, was that the action which youpropose 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 isnot always a simple matter to gauge the effect of alcohol on a subjectunaccustomed to such stimulant. I have known it to have distressingresults in the case of parrots. "

"Parrots?"

"I was thinking of an incident of my earlier life, sir, before I enteredyour employment. I was in the service of the late Lord Brancaster at thetime, a gentleman who owned a parrot to which he was greatly devoted, andone day the bird chanced to be lethargic, and his lordship, with thekindly intention of restoring it to its customary animation, offered it aportion of seed cake steeped in the '84 port. The bird accepted themorsel gratefully and consumed it with every indication of satisfaction. Almost immediately afterwards, however, its manner became markedlyfeverish. Having bitten his lordship in the thumb and sung part of asea-chanty, it fell to the bottom of the cage and remained there for aconsiderable period of time with its legs in the air, unable to move. Imerely 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 Gussiereally is was threshed out and cleared up. He seems to think he is a malenewt, and you now appear to suggest that he is a parrot. The truth of thematter being that he is just a plain, ordinary poop and needs a snootfulas badly as ever man did. So no more discussion, Jeeves. My mind is madeup. There is only one way of handling this difficult case, and that isthe way I have outlined. "

"Very good, sir. "

"Right ho, Jeeves. So much for that, then. Now here's something else: Younoticed that I said I was going to put this project through tomorrow, andno doubt you wondered why I said tomorrow. Why did I, Jeeves?"

"Because you feel that if it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere wellit were done quickly, sir?"

"Partly, Jeeves, but not altogether. My chief reason for fixing the dateas specified is that tomorrow, though you have doubtless forgotten, isthe 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 therevels. So you see we shall, by lacing that juice, not only embolden himto propose to Miss Bassett, but also put him so into shape that he willhold 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, tolace 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 aposition to obtain ready access to the stuff. It is served to Gussiedaily, I have noticed, in an individual jug. This jug will presumably belying about the kitchen or somewhere before lunch tomorrow. It will bethe 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 afraidI must enter an unequivocal _nolle prosequi_. "

"Do what?"

"The expression is a legal one, sir, signifying the resolve not toproceed with a matter. In other words, eager though I am to carry outyour instructions, sir, as a general rule, on this occasion I mustrespectfully 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 hasordered a regiment to charge and has been told that it isn't in themood. 

"Jeeves, " I said, "I had not expected this of you. "

"No, sir?"

"No, indeed. Naturally, I realize that lacing Gussie's orange juice isnot one of those regular duties for which you receive the monthlystipend, and if you care to stand on the strict letter of the contract, Isuppose there is nothing to be done about it. But you will permit me toobserve 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 alittle hurt. "

"Very good, sir. "

"Right ho, Jeeves. "

-14-

Investigation proved that the friends Angela had gone to spend the daywith were some stately-home owners of the name of Stretchley-Budd, hanging out in a joint called Kingham Manor, about eight miles distant inthe direction of Pershore. I didn't know these birds, but theirfascination must have been considerable, for she tore herself away fromthem 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 getmatters moving. I found her in the drawing-room and at once proceeded toput things in train. 

It was with very different feelings from those which had animated thebosom when approaching the Bassett twenty-four hours before in the samemanner in this same drawing-room that I headed for where she sat. As Ihad told Tuppy, I have always been devoted to Angela, and there isnothing 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 myaid and comfort. 

Frankly, I was shocked by the unfortunate young prune's appearance. AtCannes she had been a happy, smiling English girl of the best type, fullof beans and buck. Her face now was pale and drawn, like that of a hockeycentre-forward at a girls' school who, in addition to getting a fruityone on the shin, has just been penalized for "sticks". In any normalgathering, her demeanour would have excited instant remark, but thestandard of gloom at Brinkley Court had become so high that it passedunnoticed. Indeed, I shouldn't wonder if Uncle Tom, crouched in hiscorner waiting for the end, didn't think she was looking indecentlycheerful. 

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 ofcramp. He had been sitting hard by, staring at the ceiling, and he nowgave a sharp leap like a gaffed salmon and upset a small table containinga vase, a bowl of potpourri, two china dogs, and a copy of Omar Khayyámbound in limp leather. 

Aunt Dahlia uttered a startled hunting cry. Uncle Tom, who probablyimagined 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 itdidn't matter. And Angela, having stared haughtily for a moment like aprincess of the old régime confronted by some notable example ofgaucherie on the part of some particularly foul member of the underworld, accompanied me across the threshold. And presently I had deposited herand self on one of the rustic benches in the garden, and was ready tosnap into the business of the evening. 

I considered it best, however, before doing so, to ease things along witha little informal chitchat. You don't want to rush a delicate job likethe one I had in hand. And so for a while we spoke of neutral topics. Shesaid that what had kept her so long at the Stretchley-Budds was thatHilda Stretchley-Budd had made her stop on and help with the arrangementsfor their servants' ball tomorrow night, a task which she couldn't verywell decline, as all the Brinkley Court domestic staff were to bepresent. I said that a jolly night's revelry might be just what wasneeded to cheer Anatole up and take his mind off things. To which shereplied that Anatole wasn't going. On being urged to do so by AuntDahlia, she said, he had merely shaken his head sadly and gone on talkingof returning to Provence, where he was appreciated. 

It was after the sombre silence induced by this statement that Angelasaid 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 youarrived. "

"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 wecontinued chatting in desultory fashion. Then the conversation peteredout. I made a few observations _in re_ the scenic effects, featuring thetwilight hush, the peeping stars, and the soft glimmer of the waters ofthe lake, and she said yes. Something rustled in the bushes in front ofus, and I advanced the theory that it was possibly a weasel, and she saidit might be. But it was plain that the girl was distraite, and Iconsidered it best to waste no more time. 

"Well, old thing, " I said, "I've heard all about your little dust-up Sothose 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 mysteryto me how you stood this Glossop so long. Take him for all in all, heranks very low down among the wines and spirits. A washout, I shoulddescribe him as. A frightful oik, and a mass of side to boot. I'd pitythe 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 firsttime:

"Friends? Absolutely not. One was civil, of course, when one met thefellow, but it would be absurd to say one was a friend of his. A clubacquaintance, and a mere one at that. And then one was at school with theman. "

"At Eton?"

"Good heavens, no. We wouldn't have a fellow like that at Eton. At akid's school before I went there. A grubby little brute he was, Irecollect. Covered with ink and mire generally, washing only on alternateThursdays. In short, a notable outsider, shunned by all. "

I paused. I was more than a bit perturbed. Apart from the agony of havingto talk in this fashion of one who, except when he was looping back ringsand 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 begetting anywhere. Business was not resulting. Staring into the busheswithout a yip, she appeared to be bearing these slurs and innuendos ofmine with an easy calm. 

I had another pop at it:

"'Uncouth' about sums it up. I doubt if I've ever seen an uncouther kidthan this Glossop. Ask anyone who knew him in those days to describe himin a word, and the word they will use is 'uncouth'. And he's just thesame 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 fatherof 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, ofthe man. "

"What man?"

I saw that the conversation had reached a point where, unless care wastaken, we should be muddled. 

"The point I am trying to make, " I said, "is that the boy Glossop is thefather of the man Glossop. In other words, each loathsome fault andblemish that led the boy Glossop to be frowned upon by his fellows ispresent in the man Glossop, and causes him--I am speaking now of the manGlossop--to be a hissing and a byword at places like the Drones, where acertain standard of decency is demanded from the inmates. Ask anyone atthe Drones, and they will tell you that it was a black day for the dearold club when this chap Glossop somehow wriggled into the list ofmembers. Here you will find a man who dislikes his face; there one whocould stand his face if it wasn't for his habits. But the universalconsensus of opinion is that the fellow is a bounder and a tick, and thatthe moment he showed signs of wanting to get into the place he shouldhave 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 thesefrightful things about poor old Tuppy. 

"There are some chaps, " I resumed, forcing myself once more to thenauseous task, "who, in spite of looking as if they had slept in theirclothes, can get by quite nicely because they are amiable and suave. There are others who, for all that they excite adverse comment by beingfat and uncouth, find themselves on the credit side of the ledger owingto their wit and sparkling humour. But this Glossop, I regret to say, falls into neither class. In addition to looking like one of those thingsthat come out of hollow trees, he is universally admitted to be a dumbbrick of the first water. No soul. No conversation. In short, any girlwho, having been rash enough to get engaged to him, has managed at theeleventh hour to slide out is justly entitled to consider herself dashedlucky. "

I paused once more, and cocked an eye at Angela to see how the treatmentwas taking. All the while I had been speaking, she had sat gazingsilently into the bushes, but it seemed to me incredible that she shouldnot now turn on me like a tigress, according to specifications. It beatme why she hadn't done it already. It seemed to me that a mere tithe ofwhat I had said, if said to a tigress about a tiger of which she wasfond, 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 inEngland, I should think he must be. "

I did not speak. I was endeavouring to adjust the faculties, which werein urgent need of a bit of first-aid treatment. 

I mean to say, all this had come as a complete surprise. In formulatingthe well-laid plan which I had just been putting into effect, the onecontingency I had not budgeted for was that she might adhere to thesentiments which I expressed. I had braced myself for a gush of stormyemotion. I was expecting the tearful ticking off, the girlishrecriminations and all the rest of the bag of tricks along those lines. 

But this cordial agreement with my remarks I had not foreseen, and itgave me what you might call pause for thought. 

She proceeded to develop her theme, speaking in ringing, enthusiastictones, 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 yourface and have to use ointment for. But if that is the right word, thenthat's what her manner was as she ventilated the subject of poor oldTuppy. If you had been able to go simply by the sound of her voice, shemight have been a court poet cutting loose about an Oriental monarch, orGussie Fink-Nottle describing his last consignment of newts. 

"It's so nice, Bertie, talking to somebody who really takes a sensibleview about this man Glossop. Mother says he's a good chap, which issimply absurd. Anybody can see that he's absolutely impossible. He'sconceited and opinionative and argues all the time, even when he knowsperfectly well that he's talking through his hat, and he smokes too muchand eats too much and drinks too much, and I don't like the colour of hishair. Not that he'll have any hair in a year or two, because he's prettythin on the top already, and before he knows where he is he'll be as baldas an egg, and he's the last man who can afford to go bald. And I thinkit's simply disgusting, the way he gorges all the time. Do you know, Ifound him in the larder at one o'clock this morning, absolutely wallowingin a steak-and-kidney pie? There was hardly any of it left. And youremember what an enormous dinner he had. Quite disgusting, I call it. ButI can't stop out here all night, talking about men who aren't worthwasting a word on and haven't even enough sense to tell sharks fromflatfish. I'm going in. "

And gathering about her slim shoulders the shawl which she had put on asa protection against the evening dew, she buzzed off, leaving me alone inthe silent night. 

Well, as a matter of fact, not absolutely alone, because a few momentslater there was a sort of upheaval in the bushes in front of me, andTuppy emerged. 

-15-

I gave him the eye. The evening had begun to draw in a bit by now and thevisibility, in consequence, was not so hot, but there still remainedample light to enable me to see him clearly. And what I saw convinced methat I should be a lot easier in my mind with a stout rustic benchbetween us. I rose, accordingly, modelling my style on that of arocketing pheasant, and proceeded to deposit myself on the other side ofthe object named. 

My prompt agility was not without its effect. He seemed somewhat takenaback. He came to a halt, and, for about the space of time required toallow a bead of persp. To trickle from the top of the brow to the tip ofthe nose, stood gazing at me in silence. 

"So!" he said at length, and it came as a complete surprise to me thatfellows ever really do say "So!" I had always thought it was just a thingyou read in books. Like "Quotha!" I mean to say, or "Odds bodikins!" oreven "Eh, ba goom!"

Still, there it was. Quaint or not quaint, bizarre or not bizarre, he hadsaid "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 tonote that the dear old chap was a bit steamed up. Whether his eyes wereactually shooting forth flame, I couldn't tell you, but there appeared tome to be a distinct incandescence. For the rest, his fists were clenched, his ears quivering, and the muscles of his jaw rotating rhythmically, asif he were making an early supper off something. 

His hair was full of twigs, and there was a beetle hanging to the side ofhis head which would have interested Gussie Fink-Nottle. To this, however, I paid scant attention. There is a time for studying beetles anda time for not studying beetles. 

"So!" he said again. 

Now, those who know Bertram Wooster best will tell you that he is alwaysat his shrewdest and most level-headed in moments of peril. Who was itwho, when gripped by the arm of the law on boat-race night not so manyyears ago and hauled off to Vine Street police station, assumed in aflash the identity of Eustace H. Plimsoll, of The Laburnums, Alleyn Road, West Dulwich, thus saving the grand old name of Wooster from beingdragged in the mire and avoiding wide publicity of the wrong sort? Whowas it ... 

But I need not labour the point. My record speaks for itself. Three timespinched, but never once sentenced under the correct label. Ask anyone atthe Drones about this. 

So now, in a situation threatening to become every moment more scaly, Idid not lose my head. I preserved the old sang-froid. Smiling a genialand affectionate smile, and hoping that it wasn't too dark for it toregister, 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 upthrough the top of your head. "

I raised the eyebrows. Not much good, of course, in that light, but itseemed 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 movea 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 hehad sidled some six feet. And though, by dint of sidling, too, I hadmanaged to keep the bench between us, who could predict how long thishappy 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 inthose bushes during my conversation with the recent Angela, I dare sayyou 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 thebreath to some extent. Considering it--I don't want to hurt yourfeelings, 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 suspecta man of being Scotch unless he's Mac-something and says 'Och, aye' andthings like that. I wonder, " I went on, feeling that an academicdiscussion on some neutral topic might ease the tension, "if you can tellme something that has puzzled me a good deal. What exactly is it thatthey put into haggis? I've often wondered about that. "

From the fact that his only response to the question was to leap over thebench 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 sideissue. If, to come back to it, you were in those bushes and heard what Iwas saying about you----"

He began to move round the bench in a nor'-nor'-easterly direction. Ifollowed 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 inthe uptake, surely? I should have thought you would have spotted rightaway that it was all part of a well-laid plan. "

"I'll get you in a jiffy, " said Tuppy, recovering his balance after aswift clutch at my neck. And so probable did this seem that I delayed nolonger, but hastened to place all the facts before him. 

Speaking rapidly and keeping moving, I related my emotions on receipt ofAunt Dahlia's telegram, my instant rush to the scene of the disaster, mymeditations in the car, and the eventual framing of this well-laid planof mine. I spoke clearly and well, and it was with considerable concern, consequently, that I heard him observe--between clenched teeth, whichmade 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 lastdrop. What makes you sceptical? Confide in me, Tuppy. "

He halted and stood taking a breather. Tuppy, pungently though Angelamight have argued to the contrary, isn't really fat. During the wintermonths you will find him constantly booting the football with merryshouts, and in the summer the tennis racket is seldom out of his hand. 

But at the recently concluded evening meal, feeling, no doubt, that afterthat painful scene in the larder there was nothing to be gained byfurther abstinence, he had rather let himself go and, as it were, made upleeway; and after really immersing himself in one of Anatole's dinners, aman of his sturdy build tends to lose elasticity a bit. During theexposition of my plans for his happiness a certain animation had creptinto 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 ratheroversized greyhound and a somewhat slimmer electric hare doing theirstuff 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 notdispleased. I was feeling the strain myself, and welcomed a lull. 

"It absolutely beats me why you don't believe it, " I said. "You knowwe've been pals for years. You must be aware that, except at the momentwhen you caused me to do a nose dive into the Drones' swimming bath, anincident which I long since decided to put out of my mind and let thedead past bury its dead about, if you follow what I mean--except on thatone occasion, as I say, I have always regarded you with the utmostesteem. Why, then, if not for the motives I have outlined, should I knockyou 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 themagistrate had said to me on the occasion when I stood in the dock asEustace Plimsoll, of The Laburnums: and as it had impressed me a gooddeal at the time, I just bunged it in now by way of giving theconversation a tone. 

"All right. Never mind about being careful, then. Just answer me thatquestion. Why, if I had not your interests sincerely at heart, should Ihave ticked you off, as stated?"

A sharp spasm shook him from base to apex. The beetle, which, during therecent 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 inthe night. 

"Ah!" I said. "Your beetle, " I explained. "No doubt you were unaware ofit, but all this while there has been a beetle of sorts parked on theside 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 newtsduring the courting season. "Talking of beetles, when all the time youknow you're a treacherous, sneaking hound. "

It was a debatable point, of course, why treacherous, sneaking houndsshould be considered ineligible to talk about beetles, and I dare say agood 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, "Iinsist on an explanation. I have told you that I acted throughout fromthe best and kindliest motives in roasting you to Angela. It cut me tothe quick to have to speak like that, and only the recollection of ourlifelong friendship would have made me do it. And now you say you don'tbelieve me and call me names for which I am not sure I couldn't have youup before a beak and jury and mulct you in very substantial damages. Ishould have to consult my solicitor, of course, but it would surprise mevery much if an action did not lie. Be reasonable, Tuppy. Suggest anothermotive 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 finallyremove 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 withclose relations you've known since they were so high. Besides, isn'tthere something in the book of rules about a man may not marry hiscousin? Or am I thinking of grandmothers?

"Tuppy, my dear old ass, " I cried, "this is pure banana oil! You've comeunscrewed. "

"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 Ishould describe it. "

"You tickled her ankles. "

"In a purely cousinly spirit. It didn't mean a thing. Why, dash it, youmust know that in the deeper and truer sense I wouldn't touch Angela witha barge pole. "

"Oh? And why not? Not good enough for you?"

"You misunderstand me, " I hastened to reply. "When I say I wouldn't touchAngela with a barge pole, I intend merely to convey that my feelingstowards her are those of distant, though cordial, esteem. In other words, you may rest assured that between this young prune and myself there neverhas been and never could be any sentiment warmer and stronger than thatof ordinary friendship. "

"I believe it was you who tipped her off that I was in the larder lastnight, so that she could find me there with that pie, thus damaging myprestige. "

"My dear Tuppy! A Wooster?" I was shocked. "You think a Wooster would dothat?"

He breathed heavily. 

"Listen, " he said. "It's no good your standing there arguing. You can'tget away from the facts. Somebody stole her from me at Cannes. You toldme yourself that she was with you all the time at Cannes and hardly sawanybody else. You gloated over the mixed bathing, and those moonlightwalks you had together----"

"Not gloated. Just mentioned them. "

"So now you understand why, as soon as I can get you clear of this damnedbench, I am going to tear you limb from limb. Why they have these ballybenches 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 havealready indicated, that Bertram Wooster is at his best. I suddenlyremembered the recent misunderstanding with the Bassett, and with a flashof 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, Isaw a lot of Angela, but my dealings with her were on a basis from startto 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 fellto 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 Bassettdisaster?"

"I wouldn't call her 'that Bassett disaster', Tuppy. Not respectful. "

"Dash being respectful. I want the facts. You deliberately assert thatyou loved that weird Gawd-help-us?"

"I don't see why you should call her a weird Gawd-help-us, either. A verycharming and beautiful girl. Odd in some of her views perhaps--one doesnot quite see eye to eye with her in the matter of stars and rabbits--butnot 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 Imay as well inform you that it is not twenty-four hours since she turnedme 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 abarge pole, when I remembered I had said it already and it hadn't gonefrightfully well. I desisted, therefore. 

My manly frankness seemed to be producing good results. The homicidalglare was dying out of Tuppy's eyes. He had the aspect of a hiredassassin 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 Iactually came out from behind the bench, but I did let go of it, and withsomething of the relief which those three chaps in the Old Testament musthave experienced after sliding out of the burning fiery furnace, I evengroped tentatively for my cigarette case. 

The next moment a sudden snort made me take my fingers off it as if ithad bitten me. I was distressed to note in the old friend a return of therecent frenzy. 

"What the hell did you mean by telling her that I used to be covered withink 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. Andbeing looked on as an outsider at the Drones----"

"But, my dear old chap, I explained that. It was all part of my ruse orscheme. "

"It was, was it? Well, in future do me a favour and leave me out of yourfoul ruses. "

"Just as you say, old boy. "

"All right, then. That's understood. "

He relapsed into silence, standing with folded arms, staring before himrather like a strong, silent man in a novel when he's just been given thebird by the girl and is thinking of looking in at the Rocky Mountains andbumping off a few bears. His manifest pippedness excited my compash, andI ventured a kindly word. 

"I don't suppose you know what _au pied de la lettre_ means, Tuppy, butthat's how I don't think you ought to take all that stuff Angela wassaying 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 whatgirls are like. "

"I do, " he said, with another snort that came straight up from hisinsteps. "And I wish I'd never met one. "

"I mean to say, it's obvious that she must have spotted you in thosebushes 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 waygirls have, she seized the opportunity of ribbing you a bit--just toldyou 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 atwenty-one gun salute from the fleet. I can't remember ever having met abetter 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 grinningabout?"

"Not grinning. Just smiling slightly. I was conjuring up a sort ofvision, 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. Iwished it could be terminated. And so it was. For at this momentsomething came shimmering through the laurels in the quiet evenfall, andI perceived that it was Angela. 

She was looking sweet and saintlike, and she had a plate of sandwiches inher hand. Ham, I was to discover later. 

"If you see Mr. Glossop anywhere, Bertie, " she said, her eyes restingdreamily on Tuppy's facade, "I wish you would give him these. I'm soafraid he may be hungry, poor fellow. It's nearly ten o'clock, and hehasn'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, andpresently from behind us there sounded in the night the splintering crashof a well-kicked plate of ham sandwiches, accompanied by the muffledoaths 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 amarked twittering of birds in the ivy outside the window when I woke nextmorning to a new day. But there was no corresponding sunshine in BertramWooster'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 toBertram, reviewing the happenings of the previous night, the Tuppy-Angelasituation seemed more or less to have slipped a cog. With every desire tolook for the silver lining, I could not but feel that the rift betweenthese two haughty spirits had now reached such impressive proportionsthat 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 ashe booted that plate of ham sandwiches that seemed to tell me that hewould not lightly forgive. 

In these circs. , I deemed it best to shelve their problem for the nonceand turn the mind to the matter of Gussie, which presented a brighterpicture. 

With regard to Gussie, everything was in train. Jeeves's morbid scruplesabout lacing the chap's orange juice had put me to a good deal oftrouble, but I had surmounted every obstacle in the old Wooster way. Ihad secured an abundance of the necessary spirit, and it was now lying inits flask in the drawer of the dressing-table. I had also ascertainedthat the jug, duly filled, would be standing on a shelf in the butler'spantry round about the hour of one. To remove it from that shelf, sneakit up to my room, and return it, laced, in good time for the midday mealwould be a task calling, no doubt, for address, but in no sense anexacting one. 

It was with something of the emotions of one preparing a treat for adeserving child that I finished my tea and rolled over for that extraspot of sleep which just makes all the difference when there is man'swork 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 hadbeen to formulate this scheme for Gussie's bucking up. I ran into him onthe lawn, and I could see at a glance that if ever there was a man whoneeded a snappy stimulant, it was he. All nature, as I have indicated, was smiling, but not Augustus Fink-Nottle. He was walking round incircles, muttering something about not proposing to detain us long, buton 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 theabruptness with which he damned the lovely morning that he was not inmerry mood. I addressed myself to the task of bringing the roses back tohis 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 simplejob like distributing prizes at a school?"

"Laughably simple, eh? Do you realize I've been sweating for days andhaven't been able to think of a thing to say yet, except that I won'tdetain them long. You bet I won't detain them long. I've been timing myspeech, 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 Scriptureknowledge, so I suppose I ought to have been full of inside stuff. Butmemory 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 theones that have won prizes that I'm worrying about, the little blighterswho 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 thinkof. 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 everybodylaugh 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 yourScripture 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 thatschool, " 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 theback. "

"How we roared!"

Gussie's face twisted. 

"We did, little swine that we were. Instead of remaining silent andexhibiting a decent sympathy for a gallant officer at a peculiarlyembarrassing moment, we howled and yelled with mirth. I loudest of any. That is what will happen to me this afternoon, Bertie. It will be ajudgment on me for laughing like that at Major-General Sir WilfredBosher. "

"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 thenorth-western frontier of India, and his trousers split. I shall be amockery and a scorn. I know it. And you, fully cognizant of what I am infor, come babbling about good news. What news could possibly be good to meat this moment except the information that bubonic plague had broken outamong the scholars of Market Snodsbury Grammar School, and that they wereall confined to their beds with spots?"

The moment had come for me to speak. I laid a hand gently on hisshoulder. He brushed it off. I laid it on again. He brushed it off oncemore. I was endeavouring to lay it on for the third time, when he movedaside and desired, with a certain petulance, to be informed if I thoughtI was a ruddy osteopath. 

I found his manner trying, but one has to make allowances. I was tellingmyself 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 ofinfinite 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, allwill be well. "

And, keeping it snappy, I related what had passed between the Bassett andmyself on the previous night. 

"So all you have to do is play a return date, and you cannot fail toswing 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 nightwill 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'mhopeless, and there's an end of it. Fate made me the sort of chap whocan't say 'bo' to a goose. "

"It isn't a question of saying 'bo' to a goose. The point doesn't ariseat 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 alight way of taking another whack at her, but you don't know what itmeans. You have not been through the experience of starting to ask thegirl you love to marry you and then suddenly finding yourself talkingabout the plumlike external gills of the newly-born newt. It's not athing 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'tcompose my speech with you mucking around. If you are going to continueto muck around, at least give me a couple of stories. The little hellhounds 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 tothem in their after lives. Not that I care a damn about their afterlives, except that I hope they'll all choke. "

"I heard a story the other day. I can't quite remember it, but it wasabout a chap who snored and disturbed the neighbours, and it ended, 'Itwas 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 toan 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 allI ask you to do. Push off.... Ladies and gentlemen, " said Gussie, in alow, soliloquizing sort of way, "I do not propose to detain thisauspicious occasion long----"

It was a thoughtful Wooster who walked away and left him at it. More thanever I was congratulating myself on having had the sterling good sense tomake all my arrangements so that I could press a button and set thingsmoving at an instant's notice. 

Until now, you see, I had rather entertained a sort of hope that when Ihad revealed to him the Bassett's mental attitude, Nature would have donethe rest, bracing him up to such an extent that artificial stimulantswould not be required. Because, naturally, a chap doesn't want to have tosprint about country houses lugging jugs of orange juice, unless it isabsolutely 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 theseconversational exchanges convinced me that the strongest measures wouldbe necessary. Immediately upon leaving him, therefore, I proceeded to thepantry, waited till the butler had removed himself elsewhere, and nippedin and secured the vital jug. A few moments later, after a wary passageof the stairs, I was in my room. And the first thing I saw there wasJeeves, fooling about with trousers. 

He gave the jug a look which--wrongly, as it was to turn out--I diagnosedas censorious. I drew myself up a bit. I intended to have no rot from thefellow. 

"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'sorange juice. I was merely about to observe that in my opinion it wouldbe 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 feudalspirit 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 youwere 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 himhis 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 thejug?"

"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'lladd just another fluid ounce or so. "

"I would not advocate it, sir. In the case of Lord Brancaster'sparrot----"

"You are falling into your old error, Jeeves, of thinking that Gussie isa 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 thejug a generous modicum of its contents. And scarcely had I done so, whenthere came to my ears the sound of footsteps without. I had only justtime to shove the jug behind the photograph of Uncle Tom on themantelpiece before the door opened and in came Gussie, curveting like acircus horse. 

"What-ho, Bertie, " he said. "What-ho, what-ho, what-ho, and againwhat-ho. What a beautiful world this is, Bertie. One of the nicest Iever met. "

I stared at him, speechless. We Woosters are as quick as lightning, and Isaw at once that something had happened. 

I mean to say, I told you about him walking round in circles. I recordedwhat passed between us on the lawn. And if I portrayed the scene withanything like adequate skill, the picture you will have retained of thisFink-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 coatin an ecstasy of craven fear. In a word, defeatist. Gussie, during thatinterview, had, in fine, exhibited all the earmarks of one licked to acustard. 

Vastly different was the Gussie who stood before me now. Self-confidenceseemed to ooze from the fellow's every pore. His face was flushed, therewas a jovial light in his eyes, the lips were parted in a swashbucklingsmile. And when with a genial hand he sloshed me on the back before Icould sidestep, it was as if I had been kicked by a mule. 

"Well, Bertie, " he proceeded, as blithely as a linnet without a thing onhis mind, "you will be glad to hear that you were right. Your theory hasbeen 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 yourthroat, too, and makes one as thirsty as the dickens. How anyone can mopit up, as you do, for pleasure, beats me. Still, I would be the last todeny 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 noreason to suppose that a woman like your aunt--staunch, true-blue, British--would deliberately deceive the public. If she labels herdecanters 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 hadforgotten. "

"Didn't you put any soda in it?"

"It never occurred to me. I just nipped into the dining-room and drankout of the decanter. "

"How much?"

"Oh, about ten swallows. Twelve, maybe. Or fourteen. Say sixteenmedium-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 thefirst time since it had come into my life, I was glad that it was solarge. It hid its secret well. If Gussie had caught sight of that jug oforange 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 meon the back again. Foiled by my nimble footwork, he staggered to the bedand 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 youmust have thought me out there in the garden. I see now you were laughingin your sleeve. "

"No, no. "

"Yes, " insisted Gussie. "That very sleeve, " he said, pointing. "And Idon't blame you. I can't imagine why I made all that fuss about a pottyjob like distributing prizes at a rotten little country grammar school. Can you imagine, Bertie?"

"Exactly. Nor can I imagine. There's simply nothing to it. I just shin upon the platform, drop a few gracious words, hand the little blighterstheir prizes, and hop down again, admired by all. Not a suggestion ofsplit trousers from start to finish. I mean, why should anybody split histrousers? I can't imagine. Can you imagine?"

"No. "

"Nor can I imagine. I shall be a riot. I know just the sort of stuffthat's needed--simple, manly, optimistic stuff straight from theshoulder. This shoulder, " said Gussie, tapping. "Why I was so nervousthis morning I can't imagine. For anything simpler than distributing afew 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 nowI feel fine, Bertie--fine, fine, fine--and I say this to you as an oldfriend. Because that's what you are, old man, when all the smoke hascleared 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 anew 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 muchvelvet, 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 nowsliding down the banister wasn't, perhaps, a shade too braced. Hisdemeanour seemed to me that of a man who might quite easily throw breadabout at lunch. 

Fortunately, however, the settled gloom of those round him exercised arestraining effect upon him at the table. It would have needed a far moreplastered man to have been rollicking at such a gathering. I had told theBassett that there were aching hearts in Brinkley Court, and it nowlooked probable that there would shortly be aching tummies. Anatole, Ilearned, had retired to his bed with a fit of the vapours, and the mealnow before us had been cooked by the kitchen maid--as C3 a performer asever wielded a skillet. 

This, coming on top of their other troubles, induced in the company apretty unanimous silence--a solemn stillness, as you might say--whicheven Gussie did not seem prepared to break. Except, therefore, for oneshort snatch of song on his part, nothing untoward marked the occasion, and presently we rose, with instructions from Aunt Dahlia to put onfestal raiment and be at Market Snodsbury not later than 3. 30. Thisleaving me ample time to smoke a gasper or two in a shady bower besidethe 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 Iwas about to apprise him of the latest developments in the matter ofGussie, when he forestalled me by observing that the latter had only justconcluded an agreeable visit to the Wooster bedchamber. 

"I found Mr. Fink-Nottle seated here when I arrived to lay out yourclothes, sir. "

"Indeed, Jeeves? Gussie was in here, was he?"

"Yes, sir. He left only a few moments ago. He is driving to the schoolwith 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 thateducation is a drawing out, not a putting in. The late Lord Brancasterwas much addicted to presenting prizes at schools, and he invariablyemployed this dictum. "

"And how did he react to that?"

"He laughed heartily, sir. "

"This surprised you, no doubt? This practically incessant merriment, Imean. "

"Yes, sir. "

"You thought it odd in one who, when you last saw him, was well up inGroup A of the defeatists. "

"Yes, sir. "

"There is a ready explanation, Jeeves. Since you last saw him, Gussie hasbeen on a bender. He's as tight as an owl. "

"Indeed, sir?"

"Absolutely. His nerve cracked under the strain, and he sneaked into thedining-room and started mopping the stuff up like a vacuum cleaner. Whisky would seem to be what he filled the radiator with. I gather thathe used up most of the decanter. Golly, Jeeves, it's lucky he didn't getat 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 itwas standing there right out in the open, where Gussie couldn't havehelped seeing it. Mercifully, it was empty now. 

"It was a most prudent act on your part, if I may say so, sir, to disposeof 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 standingon the mantelpiece, for all eyes to behold. Gussie had been complainingof thirst. You found him in here, laughing heartily. I think that therecan be little doubt, Jeeves, that the entire contents of that jug are atthis moment reposing on top of the existing cargo in that alreadybrilliantly lit man's interior. Disturbing, Jeeves. "

"Most disturbing, sir. "

"Let us face the position, forcing ourselves to be calm. You inserted inthat 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 aboutinside him, will be distributing the prizes at Market Snodsbury GrammarSchool before an audience of all that is fairest and most refined in thecounty. "

"Yes, sir. "

"It seems to me, Jeeves, that the ceremony may be one fraught withconsiderable 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, "thereis always the bright side. "

Some twenty minutes had elapsed, and having picked the honest fellow upoutside the front door, I was driving in the two-seater to thepicturesque town of Market Snodsbury. Since we had parted--he to go tohis lair and fetch his hat, I to remain in my room and complete theformal 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 stormclouds 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 fromnow, to distribute prizes in a state of advanced intoxication, but wemust never forget that these things cut both ways. "

"You imply, sir----"

"Precisely. I am thinking of him in his capacity of wooer. All this oughtto have put him in rare shape for offering his hand in marriage. I shallbe vastly surprised if it won't turn him into a sort of caveman. Have youever 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 wearingthat informative look of his. 

"Then you have not heard, sir?"

"Eh?"

"You are not aware that a marriage has been arranged and will shortlytake 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 toconfide in me. His story was somewhat incoherent, but I had no difficultyin apprehending its substance. Prefacing his remarks with the statementthat this was a beautiful world, he laughed heartily and said that he hadbecome 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 aliberal dose of mixed spirits in a normally abstemious man, and hebecomes a force. He does not stand around, twiddling his fingers andstammering. He acts. I had no doubt that Gussie must have reached for theBassett 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 girlof 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 thiscase. "

"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. Iparked the car, and went in, well content. True, the Tuppy-Angela problemstill remained unsolved and Aunt Dahlia's five hundred quid seemed as faroff as ever, but it was gratifying to feel that good old Gussie'stroubles were over, at any rate. 

The Grammar School at Market Snodsbury had, I understood, been builtsomewhere in the year 1416, and, as with so many of these ancientfoundations, there still seemed to brood over its Great Hall, where theafternoon's festivities were to take place, not a little of the fug ofthe centuries. It was the hottest day of the summer, and though somebodyhad opened a tentative window or two, the atmosphere remained distinctiveand individual. 

In this hall the youth of Market Snodsbury had been eating its dailylunch for a matter of five hundred years, and the flavour lingered. Theair was sort of heavy and languorous, if you know what I mean, with thescent of Young England and boiled beef and carrots. 

Aunt Dahlia, who was sitting with a bevy of the local nibs in the secondrow, sighted me as I entered and waved to me to join her, but I was toosmart 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 cornchandler or something on that order. The essence of strategy on theseoccasions is to be as near the door as possible. 

The hall was gaily decorated with flags and coloured paper, and the eyewas 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 Etoncollars, the latter stressing the black-satin note rather when female, and looking as if their coats were too tight, if male. And presentlythere was some applause--sporadic, Jeeves has since told me it was--and Isaw Gussie being steered by a bearded bloke in a gown to a seat in themiddle of the platform. 

And I confess that as I beheld him and felt that there but for the graceof God went Bertram Wooster, a shudder ran through the frame. It allreminded me so vividly of the time I had addressed that girls' school. 

Of course, looking at it dispassionately, you may say that for horror andperil there is no comparison between an almost human audience like theone before me and a mob of small girls with pigtails down their backs, and this, I concede, is true. Nevertheless, the spectacle was enough tomake me feel like a fellow watching a pal going over Niagara Falls in abarrel, and the thought of what I had escaped caused everything for amoment to go black and swim before my eyes. 

When I was able to see clearly once more, I perceived that Gussie was nowseated. He had his hands on his knees, with his elbows out at rightangles, like a nigger minstrel of the old school about to ask Mr. Boneswhy a chicken crosses the road, and he was staring before him with asmile so fixed and pebble-beached that I should have thought that anybodycould have guessed that there sat one in whom the old familiar juice wasplashing up against the back of the front teeth. 

In fact, I saw Aunt Dahlia, who, having assisted at so many huntingdinners in her time, is second to none as a judge of the symptoms, give astart and gaze long and earnestly. And she was just saying something toUncle Tom on her left when the bearded bloke stepped to the footlightsand started making a speech. From the fact that he spoke as if he had ahot potato in his mouth without getting the raspberry from the lads inthe ringside seats, I deduced that he must be the head master. 

With his arrival in the spotlight, a sort of perspiring resignationseemed to settle on the audience. Personally, I snuggled up against thechandler and let my attention wander. The speech was on the subject ofthe doings of the school during the past term, and this part of aprize-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 anExhibition for Classics at Cat's, Cambridge, and you feel that it's oneof those stories where you can't see how funny it is unless you reallyknow the fellow. And the same applies to G. Bullett being awarded theLady Jane Wix Scholarship at the Birmingham College of VeterinaryScience. 

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 todoze lightly when things suddenly brisked up, bringing Gussie into thepicture for the first time. 

"Today, " said the bearded bloke, "we are all happy to welcome as theguest of the afternoon Mr. Fitz-Wattle----"

At the beginning of the address, Gussie had subsided into a sort ofdaydream, with his mouth hanging open. About half-way through, faintsigns of life had begun to show. And for the last few minutes he had beentrying to cross one leg over the other and failing and having anothershot 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 beardedbloke a bit. He stood for a moment fumbling at the fungus with ahesitating hand. But they make these head masters of tough stuff. Theweakness 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, asyou know, is one that should have devolved upon that well-beloved andvigorous member of our board of governors, the Rev. William Plomer, andwe are all, I am sure, very sorry that illness at the last moment shouldhave prevented him from being here today. But, if I may borrow a familiarmetaphor from the--if I may employ a homely metaphor familiar to youall--what we lose on the swings we gain on the roundabouts. "

He paused, and beamed rather freely, to show that this was comedy. Icould have told the man it was no use. Not a ripple. The corn chandlerleaned against me and muttered "Whoddidesay?" but that was all. 

It's always a nasty jar to wait for the laugh and find that the gaghasn'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 thisafternoon Mr. Fink-Nottle. I am sure that Mr. Fink-Nottle's name is onethat needs no introduction to you. It is, I venture to assert, a namethat is familiar to us all. "

"Not to you, " said Gussie. 

And the next moment I saw what Jeeves had meant when he had described himas laughing heartily. "Heartily" was absolutely the _mot juste_. Itsounded 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, " herepeated 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 tomy personal ear. He wanted to sit down and call it a day, I mean, but thethought that gave him pause was that, if he did, he must then eitheruncork Gussie or take the Fink-Nottle speech as read and get straight onto the actual prize-giving. 

It was a dashed tricky thing, of course, to have to decide on the spur ofthe moment. I was reading in the paper the other day about those birdswho are trying to split the atom, the nub being that they haven't thefoggiest as to what will happen if they do. It may be all right. On theother 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 upin smoke and himself torn limb from limb. 

So with the bearded bloke. Whether he was abreast of the inside facts inGussie's case, I don't know, but it was obvious to him by this time thathe had run into something pretty hot. Trial gallops had shown that Gussiehad his own way of doing things. Those interruptions had been enough toprove to the perspicacious that here, seated on the platform at the bigbinge 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, andwhere 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 tohimself, 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 thingwas taken out of his hands, for at this moment, Gussie, having stretchedhis arms and yawned a bit, switched on that pebble-beached smile againand tacked down to the edge of the platform. 

"Speech, " he said affably. 

He then stood with his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, waitingfor the applause to die down. 

It was some time before this happened, for he had got a very fine handindeed. I suppose it wasn't often that the boys of Market SnodsburyGrammar School came across a man public-spirited enough to call theirhead master a silly ass, and they showed their appreciation in nouncertain manner. Gussie may have been one over the eight, but as far asthe majority of those present were concerned he was sitting on top of theworld. 

"Boys, " said Gussie, "I mean ladies and gentlemen and boys, I do notdetain you long, but I suppose on this occasion to feel compelled to saya few auspicious words; Ladies--and boys and gentlemen--we have alllistened with interest to the remarks of our friend here who forgot toshave this morning--I don't know his name, but then he didn't knowmine--Fitz-Wattle, I mean, absolutely absurd--which squares things up abit--and we are all sorry that the Reverend What-ever-he-was-called shouldbe dying of adenoids, but after all, here today, gone tomorrow, and allflesh 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 ofcontradiction--I say, in short, I am happy to be here on this auspiciousoccasion and I take much pleasure in kindly awarding the prizes, consisting of the handsome books you see laid out on that table. AsShakespeare says, there are sermons in books, stones in the runningbrooks, or, rather, the other way about, and there you have it in anutshell. "

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 thateven the course of treatment he had been taking could have rendered sonormally tongue-tied a dumb brick as Gussie capable of it. 

It just shows, what any member of Parliament will tell you, that if youwant 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 ofhappiness 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 Iwas surprised that Jeeves should have considered it worth while shovinginto a speech. However, when I taxed him with this later, he said thatGussie had altered the plot a good deal, and I dare say that accounts forit. 

At any rate, that was the _conte_ as Gussie told it, and when I say thatit got a very fair laugh, you will understand what a popular favourite hehad become with the multitude. There might be a bearded bloke or so onthe platform and a small section in the second row who were wishing thespeaker would conclude his remarks and resume his seat, but the audienceas 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 birdsare singing, there is optimism everywhere. And why not, boys and ladiesand gentlemen? I'm happy, you're happy, we're all happy, even the meanestIrishman that walks along Broadway. Though, as I say, there were two ofthem--Pat and Mike, one drawing out, the other putting in. I should likeyou boys, taking the time from me, to give three cheers for thisbeautiful world. All together now. "

Presently the dust settled down and the plaster stopped falling from theceiling, and he went on. 

"People who say it isn't a beautiful world don't know what they aretalking about. Driving here in the car today to award the kind prizes, Iwas reluctantly compelled to tick off my host on this very point. Old TomTravers. You will see him sitting there in the second row next to thelarge lady in beige. "

He pointed helpfully, and the hundred or so Market Snods-buryians whocraned their necks in the direction indicated were able to observe UncleTom blushing prettily. 

"I ticked him off properly, the poor fish. He expressed the opinion thatthe world was in a deplorable state. I said, 'Don't talk rot, old TomTravers. ' 'I am not accustomed to talk rot, ' he said. 'Then, for abeginner, ' 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 thathad said, "Hear, hear" said "Hear, hear" again, and my corn chandlerhammered 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, areleaving the school. And I don't blame you, because there's a froust inhere 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 toimpress upon you is that, however much you may suffer from adenoids, youmust all use every effort to prevent yourselves becoming pessimists andtalking rot like old Tom Travers. There in the second row. The fellowwith a face rather like a walnut. "

He paused to allow those wishing to do so to refresh themselves withanother look at Uncle Tom, and I found myself musing in some littleperplexity. Long association with the members of the Drones has put mepretty well in touch with the various ways in which an overdose of theblushful Hippocrene can take the individual, but I had never seen anyonereact quite as Gussie was doing. 

There was a snap about his work which I had never witnessed before, evenin Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps on New Year's Eve. 

Jeeves, when I discussed the matter with him later, said it was somethingto do with inhibitions, if I caught the word correctly, and thesuppression of, I think he said, the ego. What he meant, I gathered, wasthat, owing to the fact that Gussie had just completed a five years'stretch of blameless seclusion among the newts, all the goofiness whichought to have been spread out thin over those five years and had beenbottled up during that period came to the surface on this occasion in alump--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 tokeep out of that second row. It might be unworthy of the prestige of aWooster to squash in among the proletariat in the standing-room-onlysection, but at least, I felt, I was out of the danger zone. Sothoroughly had Gussie got it up his nose by now that it seemed to me thathad he sighted me he might have become personal about even an old schoolfriend. 

"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 differencebetween an optimist and a pessimist. An optimist is a man who--well, takethe case of two Irishmen walking along Broadway. One is an optimist andone 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 todiscover that there was no chandler there. Some appointment, suddenlyremembered--possibly a promise to his wife that he would be home totea--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, therewas nothing but a sea of interested faces looking up at me. 

"Now, there, " boomed Gussie, continuing to point, "is an instance of whatI mean. Boys and ladies and gentlemen, take a good look at that objectstanding up there at the back--morning coat, trousers as worn, quiet greytie, 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 Idespise that man. And why do I despise him? Because, boys and ladies andgentlemen, he is a pessimist. His attitude is defeatist. When I told himI was going to address you this afternoon, he tried to dissuade me. Anddo you know why he tried to dissuade me? Because he said my trouserswould split up the back. "

The cheers that greeted this were the loudest yet. Anything aboutsplitting trousers went straight to the simple hearts of the youngscholars of Market Snodsbury Grammar School. Two in the row in front ofme turned purple, and a small lad with freckles seated beside them askedme 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 namebandied in a public place. Picking my feet up softly, I was in the veryprocess of executing a quiet sneak for the door, when I perceived thatthe 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 Gussiehad been, it's not so dashed easy to chip in. However, the prospect ofhearing another of Gussie's anecdotes seemed to have done the trick. Rising rather as I had risen from my bench at the beginning of thatpainful 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 alarge bloke with a beard apparently about to bean him with a book, sprangback 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? Ofcourse, 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 werecalling coals. "Forward, P. K. Purvis. "

Now that the whistle had been blown on his speech, it seemed to me thatthere was no longer any need for the strategic retreat which I had beenplanning. I had no wish to tear myself away unless I had to. I mean, Ihad told Jeeves that this binge would be fraught with interest, and itwas fraught with interest. There was a fascination about Gussie's methodswhich gripped and made one reluctant to pass the thing up providedpersonal innuendoes were steered clear of. I decided, accordingly, toremain, and presently there was a musical squeaking and P. K. Purvisclimbed the platform. 

The spelling-and-dictation champ was about three foot six in hissqueaking 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 atthe title page, but, such as it is, here you are. "

P. K. Purvis squeaked off amidst sporadic applause, but one could not failto note that the sporadic was followed by a rather strained silence. Itwas evident that Gussie was striking something of a new note in MarketSnodsbury scholastic circles. Looks were exchanged between parent andparent. The bearded bloke had the air of one who has drained the bittercup. As for Aunt Dahlia, her demeanour now told only too clearly that herlast doubts had been resolved and her verdict was in. I saw her whisperto the Bassett, who sat on her right, and the Bassett nodded sadly andlooked like a fairy about to shed a tear and add another star to theMilky Way. 

Gussie, after the departure of P. K. Purvis, had fallen into a sort ofdaydream and was standing with his mouth open and his hands in hispockets. Becoming abruptly aware that a fat kid in knickerbockers was athis 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 facecleared. 

"That's right, too, " he said.... "Well, here it is, cocky. You off?" hesaid, as the kid prepared to withdraw. 

"Sir, yes, sir. "

"Wait, R. V. Smethurst. Not so fast. Before you go, there is a question Iwish 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 pubregretfully ejecting an old and respected customer, and starting pagingG. G. Simmons. A moment later the latter was up and coming, and conceivemy emotion when it was announced that the subject on which he had clickedwas Scripture knowledge. One of us, I mean to say. 

G. G. Simmons was an unpleasant, perky-looking stripling, mostly frontteeth and spectacles, but I gave him a big hand. We Scripture-knowledgesharks stick together. 

Gussie, I was sorry to see, didn't like him. There was in his manner, ashe regarded G. G. Simmons, none of the chumminess which had marked itduring 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'vewon the Scripture-knowledge prize, have you?"

"Sir, yes, sir. "

"Yes, " said Gussie, "you look just the sort of little tick who would. Andyet, " he said, pausing and eyeing the child keenly, "how are we to knowthat 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 youanswer me that, Simmons?"

"Sir, no, sir. "

Gussie turned to the bearded bloke. 

"Fishy, " he said. "Very fishy. This boy appears to be totally lacking inScripture knowledge. "

The bearded bloke passed a hand across his forehead. 

"I can assure you, Mr. Fink-Nottle, that every care was taken to ensure acorrect marking and that Simmons outdistanced his competitors by a widemargin. "

"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 inwinning a prize for Scripture knowledge. Bertie Wooster----"

I don't know when I've had a nastier shock. I had been going on theassumption 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 andresume my edging toward the door was with me the work of a moment. 

"Bertie Wooster won the Scripture-knowledge prize at a kids' school wewere at together, and you know what he's like. But, of course, Bertiefrankly cheated. He succeeded in scrounging that Scripture-knowledgetrophy over the heads of better men by means of some of the rawest andmost brazen swindling methods ever witnessed even at a school where suchthings were common. If that man's pockets, as he entered theexamination-room, were not stuffed to bursting-point with lists of thekings of Judah----"

I heard no more. A moment later I was out in God's air, fumbling with afevered 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 ofBrinkley Court, and it was a much shaken Bertram who tottered up to hisroom to change into something loose. Having donned flannels, I lay downon the bed for a bit, and I suppose I must have dozed off, for the nextthing 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 fordinner, 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 minimizethe work for the staff, who are attending a dance at Sir PercivalStretchley-Budd's residence tonight. "

"Of course, yes. I remember. My Cousin Angela told me. Tonight's thenight, what? You going, Jeeves?"

"No, sir. I am not very fond of this form of entertainment in the ruraldistricts, 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 hintednot. "

"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 thefinish. "

"Yes, sir. I observed your departure. "

"You couldn't blame me for withdrawing. "

"No, sir. Mr. Fink-Nottle had undoubtedly become embarrassinglypersonal. "

"Was there much more of it after I went?"

"No, sir. The proceedings terminated very shortly. Mr. Fink-Nottle'sremarks with reference to Master G. G. Simmons brought about an earlyclosure. "

"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 ofMaster Simmons's bona fides, and he now proceeded to deliver a violentverbal attack upon the young gentleman, asserting that it was impossiblefor him to have won the Scripture-knowledge prize without systematiccheating on an impressive scale. He went so far as to suggest that MasterSimmons was well known to the police. "

"Golly, Jeeves!"

"Yes, sir. The words did create a considerable sensation. The reaction ofthose present to this accusation I should describe as mixed. The youngstudents appeared pleased and applauded vigorously, but Master Simmons'smother rose from her seat and addressed Mr. Fink-Nottle in terms ofstrong 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 guiltyliaison between Master Simmons's mother and the head master, accusing thelatter of having cooked the marks, as his expression was, in order togain 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 thoughtthe last thing Gussie and this woman would have done in the circs. Wouldhave been to start singing duets. "

"You misunderstand me, sir. It was the entire company who sang. The headmaster turned to the organist and said something to him in a low tone. Upon which the latter began to play the national anthem, and theproceedings 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 pityand terror, not to mention alarm and despondency, and it would bepaltering with the truth to say that I was pleased about it. On the otherhand, it was all over now, and it seemed to me that the thing to do wasnot to mourn over the past but to fix the mind on the bright future. Imean to say, Gussie might have lowered the existing Worcestershire recordfor goofiness and definitely forfeited all chance of becoming MarketSnodsbury's favourite son, but you couldn't get away from the fact thathe had proposed to Madeline Bassett, and you had to admit that she hadaccepted him. 

I put this to Jeeves. 

"A frightful exhibition, " I said, "and one which will very possibly ringdown history's pages. But we must not forget, Jeeves, that Gussie, thoughnow doubtless looked upon in the neighbourhood as the world's worstfreak, 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 thischronicle. I allude to the fact that at one time or another practicallyeverybody playing a part in it has had occasion to bury his or her facein his or her hands. I have participated in some pretty glutinous affairsin my time, but I think that never before or since have I been mixed upwith 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 pastthe 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 wasclutching as energetically as the best of them. 

And it was while I was still massaging the coconut and wondering what thenext move was that something barged up against the door like the deliveryof a ton of coals. 

"I think this may very possibly be Mr. Fink-Nottle himself, sir, " saidJeeves. 

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 wasdeeply stirred. 

-18-

I eyed him narrowly. I didn't like his looks. Mark you, I don't say Iever had, much, because Nature, when planning this sterling fellow, shoved in a lot more lower jaw than was absolutely necessary and made theeyes a bit too keen and piercing for one who was neither an Empirebuilder nor a traffic policeman. But on the present occasion, in additionto offending the aesthetic sense, this Glossop seemed to me to be wearinga distinct air of menace, and I found myself wishing that Jeeves wasn'talways so dashed tactful. I mean, it's all very well to remove yourselflike an eel sliding into mud when the employer has a visitor, but thereare moments--and it looked to me as if this was going to be one ofthem--when the truer tact is to stick round and stand ready to lend ahand in the free-for-all. 

For Jeeves was no longer with us. I hadn't seen him go, and I hadn'theard him go, but he had gone. As far as the eye could reach, one notednobody but Tuppy. And in Tuppy's demeanour, as I say, there was a certainsomething that tended to disquiet. He looked to me very much like a manwho had come to reopen that matter of my tickling Angela's ankles. 

However, his opening remark told me that I had been alarming myselfunduly. 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 ofany sort to tickled ankles, was, as I say, great. But I don't think itwas any greater than my surprise. Months had passed since that painfulepisode at the Drones, and until now he hadn't given a sign of remorseand contrition. Indeed, word had reached me through private sources thathe frequently told the story at dinners and other gatherings and, whendoing so, laughed his silly head off. 

I found it hard to understand, accordingly, what could have caused him toabase himself at this later date. Presumably he had been given the elbowby 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 anotherthought. We all of us forget ourselves sometimes and do things which, inour calmer moments, we regret. No doubt you were a bit tight at thetime. "

"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 Iassumed that you were apologizing for your foul conduct in looping backthe last ring that night in the Drones, causing me to plunge into theswimming 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 lovewith Madeline Bassett, I gave you the impression that I believed you, butI didn't. The thing seemed too incredible. However, since then I havemade inquiries, and the facts appear to square with your statement. Ihave 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 stoleAngela 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 dullfire. 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 chapwho 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 holdsgood. "

"But, Tuppy, I keep assuring you, as a competent eyewitness, that nobodysnitched 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 thatanyone 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 worshippedher immediately we met, the popeyed little excrescence. "

"But, dash it----"

"Don't argue, Bertie. The facts are all docketed. She loves thisnewt-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 isthat 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'sbinge at Market Snodsbury Grammar School he asked her to marry him, andshe 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 realizesit. 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 forlilies.... Oh, Jeeves. "

"Sir?"

I hadn't heard the door open, but the man was on the spot once more. Myprivate belief, as I think I have mentioned before, is that Jeevesdoesn't have to open doors. He's like one of those birds in India whobung their astral bodies about--the chaps, I mean, who having gone intothin air in Bombay, reassemble the parts and appear two minutes later inCalcutta. Only some such theory will account for the fact that he's notthere one moment and is there the next. He just seems to float from SpotA 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 myCousin 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 toattach themselves without delay to another, sir. It is what is known as agesture. "

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 heavygesture-making stuff. "

"You must remember, sir, that Mr. Fink-Nottle is in a somewhat inflamedcerebral 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 inflamedcerebral 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 savethe 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 plansand schemes. Go forth, Jeeves, and scour the neighbourhood. "

"It will not be necessary, sir. If you will glance behind you, you willsee 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 andlooked 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 goingto be in the mode by burying his face in his hands. However, he merelybrushed 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 itinto his head to come----"

The word "back" froze on his lips. He hadn't got any further thana _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 apicture 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 reallygot on to it that he had started leaping. I have seen fellows late forthe 9. 15 move less nippily. 

I shot a glance at Jeeves. He allowed his right eyebrow to flickerslightly, 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 lockedthis door?"

I consulted Jeeves once more in the language of the eyebrow. He raisedone 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 topursue, 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 touchof it. 

"Is one to have no privacy, Glossop?" I said coldly. "I instructed Jeevesto 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 goingto run excursion trains to see you in your underwear. You locked thatdoor because you've got the snake Fink-Nottle concealed in here. Isuspected it the moment I'd left, and I decided to come back andinvestigate. I'm going to search this room from end to end. I believehe's in that cupboard.... What's in this cupboard?"

"Just clothes, " I said, having another stab at the nonchalant, thoughextremely dubious as to whether it would come off. "The usual wardrobe ofthe English gentleman paying a country-house visit. "

"You're lying!"

Well, I wouldn't have been if he had only waited a minute beforespeaking, because the words were hardly out of his mouth before Gussiewas out of the cupboard. I have commented on the speed with which he hadgone in. It was as nothing to the speed with which he emerged. There wasa 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 theconfidence with which he had stated his view that the cupboard containedFink-Nottles, it plainly disconcerted him to have the chap fizzing out athim like this. He gargled sharply, and jumped back about five feet. Thenext moment, however, he had recovered his poise and was galloping downthe corridor in pursuit. It only needed Aunt Dahlia after them, shouting"Yoicks!" or whatever is customary on these occasions, to complete theresemblance 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 forBertram. 

"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 veryclosest 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 ofthe evening without getting a bite, but we Woosters have an uncanny knackof going straight to the heart of things, and I don't suppose it was muchmore than ten minutes after I had started pondering before I saw what hadto 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 thegrip 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 inwhich 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 havebeen, "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. Youcan'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 freaklike Gussie except a similar freak like the Bassett. The shot wasn't onthe 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 youhad a sick newt on your hands--but quite obviously not of Mendelssohn'sMarch timber. I have no doubt that you could have flung bricks by thehour in England's most densely populated districts without endangeringthe safety of a single girl capable of becoming Mrs. Augustus Fink-Nottlewithout 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 himfor, 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 haveseen 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. Yougentler sexes are like that. You pull off the rawest stuff without apang. 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 prizeat school?"

"Oh, yes. I remember Augustus mentioning it in his speech. "

"Quite, " I said, a little hurriedly. I had no wish to be reminded ofAugustus's speech. "Well, as I say, look at Jael, the wife of Heber. Dugspikes into the guest's coconut while he was asleep, and then wentswanking 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 thisup, 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 rememberwhen I won that Scripture-knowledge prize, having to go into the factsabout Balaam's ass. I can't quite recall what they were, but I stillretain a sort of general impression of something digging its feet in andputting its ears back and refusing to co-operate; and it seemed to methat this was what Angela was doing now. She and Balaam's ass were, so tospeak, 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 isthat 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 thesake 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 withwrecked? 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 himwith 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 andboil. 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 haveselected to describe me as I left the summer-house. It would be idle todeny that I had expected better results from this little chat. 

I was surprised at Angela. Odd how you never realize that every girl isat heart a vicious specimen until something goes wrong with her loveaffair. This cousin and I had been meeting freely since the days when Iwore sailor suits and she hadn't any front teeth, yet only now was Ibeginning to get on to her hidden depths. A simple, jolly, kindly youngpimple she had always struck me as--the sort you could more or less relyon not to hurt a fly. But here she was now laughing heartlessly--atleast, I seemed to remember hearing her laugh heartlessly--like somethingcold and callous out of a sophisticated talkie, and fairly spitting onher hands in her determination to bring Tuppy's grey hairs in sorrow tothe grave. 

I've said it before, and I'll say it again--girls are rummy. Old PopKipling 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 ishead for the dining-room and take a slash at the cold collation of whichJeeves had spoken. I felt in urgent need of sustenance, for the recentinterview had pulled me down a bit. There is no gainsaying the fact thatthis naked-emotion stuff reduces a chap's vitality and puts him in thevein for a good whack at the beef and ham. 

To the dining-room, accordingly, I repaired, and had barely crossed thethreshold when I perceived Aunt Dahlia at the sideboard, tucking intosalmon mayonnaise. 

The spectacle drew from me a quick "Oh, ah, " for I was somewhatembarrassed. The last time this relative and I had enjoyed a_tête-à-tête, _ it will be remembered, she had sketched out plans fordrowning me in the kitchen-garden pond, and I was not quite sure whatmy present standing with her was. 

I was relieved to find her in genial mood. Nothing could have exceededthe cordiality with which she waved her fork. 

"Hallo, Bertie, you old ass, " was her very matey greeting. "I thought Ishouldn'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 inspiredstreak. It suddenly seems to have come home to her that she isn'tcatering for a covey of buzzards in the Sahara Desert, and she has putout 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 speculatingidly, I recall, as to what Seppings, the butler, would look like, doingthe rumba. 

It was not till I had cleaned up the first platter and was embarking on asecond that the subject of Gussie came up. Considering what had passed atMarket Snodsbury that afternoon, it was one which I had been expectingher to touch on earlier. When she did touch on it, I could see that shehad not yet been informed of Angela's engagement. 

"I say, Bertie, " she said, meditatively chewing fruit salad. "ThisSpink-Bottle. "

"Nottle. "

"Bottle, " insisted the aunt firmly. "After that exhibition of his thisafternoon, Bottle, and nothing but Bottle, is how I shall always think ofhim. However, what I was going to say was that, if you see him, I wishyou would tell him that he has made an old woman very, very happy. Exceptfor the time when the curate tripped over a loose shoelace and fell downthe pulpit steps, I don't think I have ever had a more wonderful momentthan when good old Bottle suddenly started ticking Tom off from theplatform. In fact, I thought his whole performance in the most perfecttaste. "

I could not but demur. 

"Those references to myself----"

"Those were what I liked next best. I thought they were fine. Is it truethat you cheated when you won that Scripture-knowledge prize?"

"Certainly not. My victory was the outcome of the most strenuous andunremitting 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 rapidlymaking me one, but I said no, I wasn't. 

"That's right. Never be a pessimist. Everything is for the best in thisbest of all possible worlds. It's a long lane that has no turning. It salways 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 thissalad. "

I followed her advice, but even as I plied the spoon my thoughts wereelsewhere. I was perplexed. It may have been the fact that I had recentlybeen hobnobbing with so many bowed-down hearts that made this cheerinessof 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 Ihad rather expected the tapping foot and the drawn brow. "

"Nonsense. What was there to be peeved about? I took the whole thing as agreat compliment, proud to feel that any drink from my cellars could haveproduced 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 littlechild clapping its hands and dancing in the sunshine. For though it hasbeen some time getting a move on, Bertie, the sun has at last brokenthrough the clouds. Ring out those joy bells. Anatole has withdrawn hisnotice. "

"What? Oh, very hearty congratulations. "

"Thanks. Yes, I worked on him like a beaver after I got back thisafternoon, and finally, vowing he would ne'er consent, he consented. Hestays on, praises be, and the way I look at it now is that God's in Hisheaven 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 yourwish, madam, that Mr. Fink-Nottle is making faces at Monsieur Anatolethrough the skylight of his bedroom?"

-20-

There was one of those long silences. Pregnant, I believe, is whatthey're generally called. Aunt looked at butler. Butler looked at aunt. Ilooked at both of them. An eerie stillness seemed to envelop the roomlike a linseed poultice. I happened to be biting on a slice of apple in myfruit salad at the moment, and it sounded as if Carnera had jumped offthe 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 hadalways known her as a woman who was quite active on her pins, but I hadnever suspected her of being capable of the magnificent burst of speedwhich she now showed. Pausing merely to get a rich hunting-fieldexpletive off her chest, she was out of the room and making for thestairs 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 afterher, Seppings following at a loping gallop. 

I say that my place was by her side, but it was not so dashed easy to getthere, for she was setting a cracking pace. At the top of the firstflight she must have led by a matter of half a dozen lengths, and wasstill shaking off my challenge when she rounded into the second. At thenext landing, however, the gruelling going appeared to tell on her, forshe slackened off a trifle and showed symptoms of roaring, and by thetime 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 havewished 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 ofthe cooking-stove is a tubby little man with a moustache of the outsizeor soup-strainer type, and you can generally take a line through it as tothe state of his emotions. When all is well, it turns up at the ends likea sergeant-major's. When the soul is bruised, it droops. 

It was drooping now, striking a sinister note. And if any shadow of doubthad remained as to how he was feeling, the way he was carrying on wouldhave dispelled it. He was standing by the bed in pink pyjamas, waving hisfists at the skylight. Through the glass, Gussie was staring down. Hiseyes were bulging and his mouth was open, giving him so striking aresemblance to some rare fish in an aquarium that one's primary impulsewas to offer him an ant's egg. 

Watching this fist-waving cook and this goggling guest, I must say thatmy sympathies were completely with the former. I considered himthoroughly 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 hehad suddenly become aware of that frightful face at the window. A thingto jar the most phlegmatic. I know I should hate to be lying in bed andhave Gussie popping up like that. A chap's bedroom--you can't get awayfrom it--is his castle, and he has every right to look askance ifgargoyles come glaring in at him. 

While I stood musing thus, Aunt Dahlia, in her practical way, was comingstraight to the point:

"What's all this?"

Anatole did a sort of Swedish exercise, starting at the base of thespine, carrying on through the shoulder-blades and finishing up among theback hair. 

Then he told her. 

In the chats I have had with this wonder man, I have always found hisEnglish fluent, but a bit on the mixed side. If you remember, he was withMrs. Bingo Little for a time before coming to Brinkley, and no doubt hepicked up a good deal from Bingo. Before that, he had been a couple ofyears with an American family at Nice and had studied under theirchauffeur, one of the Maloneys of Brooklyn. So, what with Bingo and whatwith 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 wakeand up I look, and there is one who make faces against me through thedashed window. Is that a pretty affair? Is that convenient? If you thinkI like it, you jolly well mistake yourself. I am so mad as a wet hen. Andwhy not? I am somebody, isn't it? This is a bedroom, what-what, not ahouse for some apes? Then for what do blighters sit on my window so coolas 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 youclutch 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, notgiving any damns, and sit regarding me like a cat watching a duck. Hemake faces against me and again he make faces against me, and the more Icommand that he should get to hell out of here, the more he do not get tohell out of here. He cry something towards me, and I demand what is hisdesire, but he do not explain. Oh, no, that arrives never. He does butshrug his head. What damn silliness! Is this amusing for me? You think Ilike 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 çal'oiseau.... Allez-vous-en, louffier_.... Tell the boob to go away. He ismad as some March hatters. "

I must say I thought he was making out a jolly good case, and evidentlyAunt Dahlia felt the same. She laid a quivering hand on his shoulder. 

"I will, Monsieur Anatole, I will, " she said, and I couldn't havebelieved that robust voice capable of sinking to such an absolute coo. More like a turtle dove calling to its mate than anything else. "It'squite 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! Ofwhat use to pull stuff like that? Wait one half-moment. Not yet quite soquick, 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 arough, it is true, but I do not find it agreeable when one play larksagainst me on my windows. That cannot do. A nice thing, no. I am aserious man. I do not wish a few larks on my windows. I enjoy larks on mywindows worse as any. It is very little all right. If such rannygazoo isto arrive, I do not remain any longer in this house no more. I buzz offand 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 ofhounds seeing a fox shot. Anatole had begun to wave his fists again atGussie, and she now joined him. Seppings, who was puffing respectfully inthe background, didn't actually wave his fists, but he gave Gussie apretty austere look. It was plain to the thoughtful observer that thisFink-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 ofhers which had once caused nervous members of the Quorn to lose stirrupsand take tosses from the saddle. 

Gussie's reply was to waggle his eyebrows. I could read the message hewas trying to convey. 

"I think he means, " I said--reasonable old Bertram, always trying tothrow oil on the troubled w's----"that if he does he will fall down theside 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 bea nearer solution. This skylight happened to be the only window in thehouse which Uncle Tom had not festooned with his bally bars. I suppose hefelt that if a burglar had the nerve to climb up as far as this, hedeserved 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 chapsyou read about in the papers, the wretched man seemed deeply conscious ofhis position. 

I must say Aunt Dahlia's bearing and demeanour did nothing to assisttoward a restored composure. Of the amiability which she had exhibitedwhen discussing this unhappy chump's activities with me over the fruitsalad, no trace remained, and I was not surprised that speech more orless 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 gettheir 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 strangledhiccough. 

"Well?"

Aunt Dahlia's face grew darker. Hunting, if indulged in regularly over aperiod of years, is a pastime that seldom fails to lend a fairly deepishtinge to the patient's complexion, and her best friends could not havedenied that even at normal times the relative's map tended a littletoward the crushed strawberry. But never had I seen it take on sopronounced a richness as now. She looked like a tomato struggling forself-expression. 

"Well?"

Gussie tried hard. And for a moment it seemed as if something was goingto come through. But in the end it turned out nothing more than a sort ofdeath-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 ratherman's size job of soothing Anatole, who was now carrying on a mutteredconversation with himself in a rapid sort of way. 

Seeming to feel that the situation was one to which he could not dojustice in Bingo-cum-Maloney Anglo-American, he had fallen back on hisnative tongue. Words like "_marmiton de Domange, " "pignouf, ""hurluberlu_" and "_roustisseur_" were fluttering from him like bats outof a barn. Lost on me, of course, because, though I sweated a bit at theGallic language during that Cannes visit, I'm still more or less in theEsker-vous-avez stage. I regretted this, for they sounded good. 

I assisted Gussie down the stairs. A cooler thinker than Aunt Dahlia, Ihad already guessed the hidden springs and motives which had led him tothe roof. Where she had seen only a cockeyed reveller indulging himselfin 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 passagewindow and scrambled along a sort of ledge. "

"That baffled him, what?"

"Yes. But then I found I had stuck. The roof sloped down in alldirections. I couldn't go back. I had to go on, crawling along thisledge. And then I found myself looking down the skylight. Who was thatchap?"

"That was Anatole, Aunt Dahlia's chef. "

"French?"

"To the core. "

"That explains why I couldn't make him understand. What asses theseFrenchmen are. They don't seem able to grasp the simplest thing. You'dhave thought if a chap saw a chap on a skylight, the chap would realizethe 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 manlypolicy. "

"Suppose that's where he's lurking?"

"In that case, move elsewhere. "

But on arrival at the room, it transpired that Tuppy, if anywhere, wasinfesting some other portion of the house. Gussie shot in, and I heardthe key turn. And feeling that there was no more that I could do in thatquarter, I returned to the dining-room for further fruit salad and aquiet think. And I had barely filled my plate when the door opened andAunt 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 hisbest. St. Bernard dogs doing the square thing by Alpine travellers couldnot have bustled about more assiduously. I filled the order, and for somemoments nothing was to be heard but the sloshing sound of an auntrestoring her tissues. 

"Shove it down, Aunt Dahlia, " I said sympathetically. "These things takeit out of one, don't they? You've had a toughish time, no doubt, soothingAnatole, " 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 ifin 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 aboutstrewing ruin and desolation and breaking up homes which, until he camealong, had been happy and peaceful. Attila is the man. It's amazing. " shesaid, drinking me in once more. "To look at you, one would think you werejust an ordinary sort of amiable idiot--certifiable, perhaps, but quiteharmless. 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 allthe underlying sorrow and horror of life with such a thud that I feel asif I had walked into a lamp post. "

Pained and surprised, I would have spoken, but the stuff I had thoughtwas anchovy paste had turned out to be something far more gooey andadhesive. It seemed to wrap itself round the tongue and impede utterancelike a gag. And while I was still endeavouring to clear the vocal cordsfor action, she went on:

"Do you realize what you started when you sent that Spink-Bottle man downhere? As regards his getting blotto and turning the prize-givingceremonies at Market Snodsbury Grammar School into a sort of two-reelcomic film, I will say nothing, for frankly I enjoyed it. But when hecomes leering at Anatole through skylights, just after I had withinfinite pains and tact induced him to withdraw his notice, and makes himso 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 haveindigestion for the rest of his life. And that is not all. I have justseen 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 asort 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 sitswapping hard-luck stories with him till bedtime. Not that Job was in myclass. "

"He had boils. "

"Well, what are boils?"

"Dashed painful, I understand. "

"Nonsense. I'd take all the boils on the market in exchange for mytroubles. Can't you realize the position? I've lost the best cook toEngland. My husband, poor soul, will probably die of dyspepsia. And myonly daughter, for whom I had dreamed such a wonderful future, is engagedto 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 hadthem. Yes, I agree with you, Aunt Dahlia, that things are not looking toooojah-cum-spiff at the moment, but be of good cheer. A Wooster is seldombaffled for more than the nonce. "

"You rather expect to be coming along shortly with another of yourschemes?"

"At any minute. "

She sighed resignedly. 

"I thought as much. Well, it needed but this. I don't see how thingscould possibly be worse than they are, but no doubt you will succeed inmaking 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 faintinterest in seeing into what darker and profounder abysses of hell youcan 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 abrother.... 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 herwhatever-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 doingour imitation of the Two Macs. Always willing to oblige, I dismissedJeeves with a nod, and he flickered for a moment and was gone. Many aspectre would have been less slippy. 

"But what, " I mused, toying with the envelope, "can this female bewriting 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 deepbreathing, and try to forget. "

"Quite, " I said absently, skimming p. L. And then, as I turned over, asharp howl broke from my lips, causing Aunt Dahlia to shy like a startledmustang. 

"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 rememberyears ago, when you were in your cradle, being left alone with you oneday and you nearly swallowed your rubber comforter and started turningpurple. And I, ass that I was, took it out and saved your life. Let metell you, young Bertie, it will go very hard with you if you ever swallowa rubber comforter again when only I am by to aid. "

"But, dash it!" I cried. "Do you know what's happened? Madeline Bassettsays she's going to marry me!"

"I hope it keeps fine for you, " said the relative, and passed from theroom 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 EdgarAllan Poe story myself, for, as you can readily imagine, the news itemwhich I have just recorded had got in amongst me properly. If theBassett, in the belief that the Wooster heart had long been hers and waswaiting ready to be scooped in on demand, had decided to take up heroption, I should, as a man of honour and sensibility, have no choice butto come across and kick in. The matter was obviously not one that couldbe straightened out with a curt _nolle prosequi_. All the evidence, therefore, seemed to point to the fact that the doom had come upon meand, what was more, had come to stay. 

And yet, though it would be idle to pretend that my grip on the situationwas quite the grip I would have liked it to be, I did not despair ofarriving at a solution. A lesser man, caught in this awful snare, wouldno doubt have thrown in the towel at once and ceased to struggle; but thewhole 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 asecond perusal would enable me to place a different construction on itscontents, but it helped to fill in while the brain was limbering up. Ithen, to assist thought, had another go at the fruit salad, and inaddition ate a slice of sponge cake. And it was as I passed on to thecheese that the machinery started working. I saw what had to be done. 

To the question which had been exercising the mind--viz. , can Bertramcope?--I was now able to reply with a confident "Absolutely. "

The great wheeze on these occasions of dirty work at the crossroads isnot 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 startedthe whole imbroglio by chucking Gussie, and it was clear that beforeanything could be done to solve and clarify, she must be induced torevise her views and take him on again. This would put Angela back intocirculation, and that would cause Tuppy to simmer down a bit, and then wecould begin to get somewhere. 

I decided that as soon as I had had another morsel of cheese I would seekthis Bassett out and be pretty eloquent. 

And at this moment in she came. I might have foreseen that she would beturning up shortly. I mean to say, hearts may ache, but if they know thatthere is a cold collation set out in the dining-room, they are prettysure 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 gettinghers, had I not, in the emotion of seeing her, dropped a glass of thebest with which I was endeavouring to bring about a calmer frame of mind. The noise caused her to turn, and for an instant embarrassmentsupervened. 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 oneof these awkward moments like a spot of stage business. Find something todo with your hands, and it's half the battle. I grabbed a plate andhastened 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 shehadn't got it yet, but at all the tender associations those two wordsprovoked. It was as if someone had mentioned spaghetti to the relict ofan Italian organ-grinder. Her face flushed a deeper shade, she registeredanguish, and I saw that it was no longer within the sphere of practicalpolitics to try to confine the conversation to neutral topics like coldboiled salmon. 

So did she, I imagine, for when I, as a preliminary to getting down tobrass 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 atit:

"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 talkingturkey, I was reluctantly compelled to do so. I mean, somebody had gotto. Too dashed silly, a male and female in our position simply standingeating 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 wantingto ask you, if we happened to run into each other, was--well, what aboutit?"

"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--Imean--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. ThenI said "I mean to say" just as she said "I think I know", and there wasanother 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, andshe 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 domy best to make you a good wife. But my affection for you can never bethe flamelike passion I felt for Augustus. "

"Just the very point I was working round to. There, as you say, is thesnag. Why not chuck the whole idea of hitching up with me? Wash it outaltogether. I mean, if you love old Gussie----"

"No longer. "

"Oh, come. "

"No. What happened this afternoon has killed my love. A smear of uglinesshas been drawn across a thing of beauty, and I can never feel towards himas 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, haddiscovered that he had been stewed to the eyebrows all the time. Theshock must have been severe. No girl likes to feel that a chap has got tobe thoroughly plastered before he can ask her to marry him. It wounds thepride. 

Nevertheless, I persevered. 

"But have you considered, " I said, "that you may have got a wrong line onGussie's performance this afternoon? Admitted that all the evidencepoints to a more sinister theory, what price him simply having got atouch of the sun? Chaps do get touches of the sun, you know, especiallywhen the weather's hot. "

She looked at me, and I saw that she was putting in a bit of the olddrenched-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 wasa bit on the prominent side, perhaps, but, dash it, not in the Cyranoclass. It began to look as if the next thing this girl would do would beto 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 isno 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 eatingcheese straws and cold eggs respectively in silence. There seemed toexist some little uncertainty as to what the next move was. 

Fortunately, before embarrassment could do much more supervening, Angelacame in, and this broke up the meeting. Then Bassett announced ourengagement, 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 bevery, very happy with Gussie, and Angela said she was sure she would, because Augustus was such a dear, and the Bassett kissed her again, andAngela kissed her again and, in a word, the whole thing got so ballyfeminine that I was glad to edge away. 

I would have been glad to do so, of course, in any case, for if everthere 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 yearsearlier, when I had inadvertently become betrothed to Tuppy's frightfulCousin Honoria, had I experienced a deeper sense of being waist high inthe gumbo and about to sink without trace. I wandered out into thegarden, smoking a tortured gasper, with the iron well embedded in thesoul. And I had fallen into a sort of trance, trying to picture what itwould be like having the Bassett on the premises for the rest of my lifeand at the same time, if you follow me, trying not to picture what itwould be like, when I charged into something which might have been atree, 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 himhad opened up a new line of thought. 

This Jeeves, now, I reflected. I had formed the opinion that he had losthis grip and was no longer the force he had been, but was it notpossible, I asked myself, that I might be mistaken? Start him offexploring avenues and might he not discover one through which I would beenabled to sneak off to safety, leaving no hard feelings behind? I foundmyself 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 inthe eyes the same intelligent glitter. 

Mind you, after what had passed between us in the matter of that whitemess-jacket with the brass buttons, I was not prepared absolutely to handover to the man. I would, of course, merely take him into consultation. But, recalling some of his earlier triumphs--the Sipperley Case, theEpisode of My Aunt Agatha and the Dog McIntosh, and the smoothly handledAffair of Uncle George and The Barmaid's Niece were a few that sprang tomy mind--I felt justified at least in offering him the opportunity ofcoming to the aid of the young master in his hour of peril. 

But before proceeding further, there was one thing that had got to beunderstood 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. Inthe past, when you have contrived to extricate self or some pal from somelittle difficulty, you have frequently shown a disposition to takeadvantage of my gratitude to gain some private end. Those purple socks, for instance. Also the plus fours and the Old Etonian spats. Choosingyour moment with subtle cunning, you came to me when I was weakened byrelief and got me to get rid of them. And what I am saying now is that ifyou are successful on the present occasion there must be no rot of thatdescription about that mess-jacket of mine. "

"Very good, sir. "

"You will not come to me when all is over and ask me to jettison thejacket?"

"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. Theofficial intimation was in that note you brought me. "

"Odd, sir. "

"What is?"

"Odd, sir, that the contents of that note should have been as youdescribe. It seemed to me that Miss Bassett, when she handed me thecommunication, 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 shereally wants to marry me, do you? Pshaw, Jeeves! Can't you see that thisis simply another of those bally gestures which are rapidly renderingBrinkley 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 afondness for Mr. Fink-Nottle, sir?"

"She's pining for him. "

"In that case, sir, surely the best plan would be to bring about areconciliation between them. "

"How? You see. You stand silent and twiddle the fingers. You arestumped. "

"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 toyou, sir. "

"When did you ever mention any device to me?"

"If you will throw your mind back to the evening of our arrival, sir. Youwere good enough to inquire of me if I had any plan to put forward with aview to bringing Miss Angela and Mr. Glossop together, and I ventured tosuggest----"

"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 Isay that, instead of dismissing the proposal with a curt "Tchah!" oranything like that, I found myself speculating as to whether there mightnot be something in it, after all. 

When he had first mooted this fire-alarm scheme of his, I had sat uponit, if you remember, with the maximum of promptitude and vigour. "Rotten"was the adjective I had employed to describe it, and you may recall thatI mused a bit sadly, considering the idea conclusive proof of the generalbreakdown of a once fine mind. But now it somehow began to look as if itmight have possibilities. The fact of the matter was that I had aboutreached the stage where I was prepared to try anything once, howevergoofy. 

"Just run through that wheeze again, Jeeves, " I said thoughtfully. "Iremember thinking it cuckoo, but it may be that I missed some of thefiner 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 occupantsof the house, hearing the fire bell ring, will suppose that aconflagration 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 lateSir Arthur Conan Doyle's fictional detective, Sherlock Holmes, that theinstinct of everyone, upon an alarm of fire, is to save the objectdearest to them. "

"It seems to me that there is a grave danger of seeing Tuppy come outcarrying a steak-and-kidney pie, but resume, Jeeves, resume. You thinkthat this would clean everything up?"

"The relations of the two young couples could scarcely continue distantafter such an occurrence, sir. "

"Perhaps you're right. But, dash it, if we go ringing fire bells in thenight watches, shan't we scare half the domestic staff into fits? Thereis one of the housemaids--Jane, I believe--who already skips like thehigh 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 actingpromptly we should avoid such a contingency. The entire staff, with theexception of Monsieur Anatole, will be at the ball at Kingham Manortonight. "

"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. Bonggoes the bell. Gussie rushes and grabs the Bassett.... Wait. Whyshouldn't she simply walk downstairs?"

"You are overlooking the effect of sudden alarm on the femininetemperament, sir. "

"That's true. "

"Miss Bassett's impulse, I would imagine, sir, would be to leap from herwindow. "

"Well, that's worse. We don't want her spread out in a sort of _purée_ onthe 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 causedhim to have stout bars fixed to all the windows. "

"Of course, yes. Well, it sounds all right, " I said, though still a bitdoubtfully. "Quite possibly it may come off. But I have a feeling that itwill slip up somewhere. However, I am in no position to cavil at even a100 to 1 shot. I will adopt this policy of yours, Jeeves, though, as Isay, 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 districtsafter dark that always has a rummy effect on me. In London I can stay outtill all hours and come home with the milk without a tremor, but put mein the garden of a country house after the strength of the company hasgone to roost and the place is shut up, and a sort of goose-fleshyfeeling 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 andI'm expecting the family ghost to come sneaking up behind me, makinggroaning noises. Dashed unpleasant, the whole thing, and if you think itimproves matters to know that you are shortly about to ring the loudestfire bell in England and start an all-hands-to-the-pumps panic in thatquiet, darkened house, you err. 

I knew all about the Brinkley Court fire bell. The dickens of a row itmakes. Uncle Tom, in addition to not liking burglars, is a bloke who hasalways objected to the idea of being cooked in his sleep, so when hebought the place he saw to it that the fire bell should be something thatmight give you heart failure, but which you couldn't possibly mistake forthe drowsy chirping of a sparrow in the ivy. 

When I was a kid and spent my holidays at Brinkley, we used to have firedrills after closing time, and many is the night I've had it jerk me outof the dreamless like the Last Trump. 

I confess that the recollection of what this bell could do when itbuckled 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 ropeagainst the whitewashed wall and the thought of the bloodsome uproarwhich was about to smash the peace of the night into hash served todeepen that rummy feeling to which I have alluded. 

Moreover, now that I had had time to meditate upon it, I was more thanever defeatist about this scheme of Jeeves's. 

Jeeves seemed to take it for granted that Gussie and Tuppy, faced with ahideous 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 fateaffect chaps. I remember Freddie Widgeon, one of the most chivalrousbirds in the Drones, telling me how there was an alarm of fire once at aseaside hotel where he was staying and, so far from rushing about savingwomen, he was down the escape within ten seconds of the kick-off, hismind concerned with but one thing--viz. , the personal well-being ofF. 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 inblankets, but no more. 

Why, then, should this not be so with Augustus Fink-Nottle and HildebrandGlossop?

Such were my thoughts as I stood toying with the rope, and I believe Ishould have turned the whole thing up, had it not been that at thisjuncture there floated into my mind a picture of the Bassett hearing thatbell for the first time. Coming as a wholly new experience, it wouldprobably startle her into a decline. 

And so agreeable was this reflection that I waited no longer, but seizedthe rope, braced the feet and snapped into it. 

Well, as I say, I hadn't been expecting that bell to hush things up toany great extent. Nor did it. The last time I had heard it, I had been inmy room on the other side of the house, and even so it had hoiked me outof bed as if something had exploded under me. Standing close to it likethis, I got the full force and meaning of the thing, and I've never heardanything like it in my puff. 

I rather enjoy a bit of noise, as a general rule. I remember Cats-meatPotter-Pirbright bringing a police rattle into the Drones one night andloosing it off behind my chair, and I just lay back and closed my eyeswith a pleasant smile, like someone in a box at the opera. And the sameapplies to the time when my Aunt Agatha's son, young Thos. , put a matchto 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 adozen tugs, and then, feeling that enough was enough, sauntered round tothe front lawn to ascertain what solid results had been achieved. 

Brinkley Court had given of its best. A glance told me that we wereplaying to capacity. The eye, roving to and fro, noted here Uncle Tom ina purple dressing gown, there Aunt Dahlia in the old blue and yellow. Italso fell upon Anatole, Tuppy, Gussie, Angela, the Bassett and Jeeves, inthe order named. There they all were, present and correct. 

But--and this was what caused me immediate concern--I could detect nosign whatever that there had been any rescue work going on. 

What I had been hoping, of course, was to see Tuppy bending solicitouslyover Angela in one corner, while Gussie fanned the Bassett with a towelin the other. Instead of which, the Bassett was one of the group whichincluded Aunt Dahlia and Uncle Tom and seemed to be busy trying to makeAnatole see the bright side, while Angela and Gussie were, respectively, leaning against the sundial with a peeved look and sitting on the grassrubbing a barked shin. Tuppy was walking up and down the path, all byhimself. 

A disturbing picture, you will admit. It was with a rather imperiousgesture 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 themselvesquite 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 ideafrom the start. When you first mooted it, I said it was rotten, and I wasright. I'm not blaming you, Jeeves. It is not your fault that you havesprained 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 thesimplest and most elementary problems. It is best to be candid aboutthis, 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 isendeavouring to attract your attention. "

And at this moment a ringing "Hoy!" which could have proceeded only fromthe relative in question, assured me that his view was correct. 

"Just step this way a moment, Attila, if you don't mind, " boomed thatwell-known--and under certain conditions, well-loved--voice, and I movedover. 

I was not feeling unmixedly at my ease. For the first time it wasbeginning to steal upon me that I had not prepared a really good story insupport of my questionable behaviour in ringing fire bells at such anhour, and I have known Aunt Dahlia to express herself with a heartyfreedom 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 hadsuffered. 

"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 thanfrowsting in bed. I had just dropped off when you did your bell-ringingact. For it was you, my sweet child, who rang that bell, was knot?"

"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 becauseyou have been seeing things. "

Here Uncle Tom made a noise like a cork coming out of a bottle, andAnatole, whose moustache had hit a new low, said something about "someapes" 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 wereyou 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'tbelieve I could sleep knowing you were out here giving rein to thatpowerful imagination of yours. The next thing that would happen would bethat you would think you saw a pink elephant sitting on the drawing-roomwindow-sill and start throwing bricks at it.... Well, come on, Tom, theentertainment seems to be over.... But wait. The newt king wishes a wordwith 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 allat 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--whicha country house party can't do with Attila here operating on thepremises. Seppings presumably took the back-door key with him. We mustjust 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 thekey from Seppings?"

It went well. No question about that. For the first time, a smile lit upAunt Dahlia's drawn face. Uncle Tom grunted approvingly. Anatole saidsomething in Provençal that sounded complimentary. And I thought Idetected even on Angela's map a slight softening. 

"A very excellent idea, " said Aunt Dahlia. "One of the best. Nip round tothe garage at once. "

After Tuppy had gone, some extremely flattering things were said abouthis intelligence and resource, and there was a disposition to draw ratherinvidious 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 fiveminutes 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 topreserve her frozen calm. The dam now burst. The years rolled away fromher, and she was once more the Dahlia Wooster of the old yoicks-and-tantivydays--the emotional, free-speaking girl who had so often risen inher stirrups to yell derogatory personalities at people who were headinghounds. 

"Curse all dancing chauffeurs! What on earth does a chauffeur want todance for? I mistrusted that man from the start. Something told me he wasa dancer. Well, this finishes it. We're out here till breakfast-time. Ifthose blasted servants come back before eight o'clock, I shall be vastlysurprised. You won't get Seppings away from a dance till you throw himout. I know him. The jazz'll go to his head, and he'll stand clapping anddemanding encores till his hands blister. Damn all dancing butlers! Whatis Brinkley Court? A respectable English country house or a crimsondancing school? One might as well be living in the middle of the RussianBallet. Well, all right. If we must stay out here, we must. We shall allbe frozen stiff, except"--here she directed at me not one of herfriendliest glances----"except dear old Attila, who is, I observe, well andwarmly clad. We will resign ourselves to the prospect of freezing todeath like the Babes in the Wood, merely expressing a dying wish that ourold pal Attila will see that we are covered with leaves. No doubt he willalso toll that fire bell of his as a mark of respect--And what might youwant, my good man?"

She broke off, and stood glaring at Jeeves. During the latter portion ofher address, he had been standing by in a respectful manner, endeavouringto 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 alwaysfound myself able to view Jeeves with approval. There are aspects of hischaracter which have frequently caused coldnesses to arise between us. Heis one of those fellows who, if you give them a thingummy, take awhat-d'you-call-it. His work is often raw, and he has been known to alludeto me as "mentally negligible". More than once, as I have shown, it hasbeen my painful task to squelch in him a tendency to get uppish and treatthe 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. Thereis about him something that seems to soothe and hypnotize. To the best ofmy knowledge, he has never encountered a charging rhinoceros, but shouldthis 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 legsin the air. 

At any rate he calmed down Aunt Dahlia, the nearest thing to a chargingrhinoceros, in under five seconds. He just stood there lookingrespectful, and though I didn't time the thing--not having a stop-watchon me--I should say it wasn't more than three seconds and a quarterbefore 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 ofneed?"

"Yes, madam. "

"Jeeves, " said Aunt Dahlia in a shaking voice, "I am sorry I spoke soabruptly. I was not myself. I might have known that you would not comesimply 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 reallyget 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 KinghamManor 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 hadpassed the fellow's lips, I had had a presentiment that a determinedeffort would be made to elect me as the goat, and I braced myself toresist and obstruct. 

And as I was about to do so, while I was in the very act of summoning upall my eloquence to protest that I didn't know how to ride a bike andcouldn't possibly learn in the brief time at my disposal, I'm dashed ifthe man didn't go and nip me in the bud. 

"Yes, madam, Mr. Wooster would perform the task admirably. He is anexpert 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 howone's words get twisted. All I had ever done was to mention tohim--casually, just as an interesting item of information, one day in NewYork when we were watching the six-day bicycle race--that at the age offourteen, while spending my holidays with a vicar of sorts who had beentold off to teach me Latin, I had won the Choir Boys' Handicap at thelocal 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 ofschool treats is never of the hottest. And, if I'm not mistaken, I hadspecifically told him that on the occasion referred to I had receivedhalf a lap start and that Willie Punting, the odds-on favourite to whomthe race was expected to be a gift, had been forced to retire, owing tohaving pinched his elder brother's machine without asking the elderbrother, and the elder brother coming along just as the pistol went andgiving him one on the side of the head and taking it away from him, thusrendering him a scratched-at-the-post non-starter. Yet, from the way hetalked, you would have thought I was one of those chaps in sweaters withmedals all over them, whose photographs bob up from time to time in theillustrated press on the occasion of their having ridden from Hyde ParkCorner 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. Iremember at Oxford he used to take all his clothes off on bump-suppernights and ride around the quad, singing comic songs. Jolly fast he usedto go too. "

"Then he can go jolly fast now, " said Aunt Dahlia with animation. "Hecan'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 meansdo so. But whether clothed or in the nude, whether singing comic songs ornot 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 anderror. 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 thedarkness, Jeeves at my side, Aunt Dahlia calling after me something abouttrying to imagine myself the man who brought the good news from Ghent toAix. The first I had heard of the chap. 

"So, Jeeves, " I said, as we reached the shed, and my voice was cold andbitter, "this is what your great scheme has accomplished! Tuppy, Angela, Gussie and the Bassett not on speaking terms, and self faced with aneight-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 intosomething. "

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 totell me as a child. An absurd little story, sir, though I confess that Ihave always found it droll. According to my Uncle Cyril, two men namedNicholls and Jackson set out to ride to Brighton on a tandem bicycle, andwere so unfortunate as to come into collision with a brewer's van. Andwhen the rescue party arrived on the scene of the accident, it wasdiscovered that they had been hurled together with such force that it wasimpossible to sort them out at all adequately. The keenest eye could notdiscern which portion of the fragments was Nicholls and which Jackson. Sothey collected as much as they could, and called it Nixon. I rememberlaughing 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, youcan 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 thedifferential gear?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Right ho, Jeeves. "

In Tuppy's statement that, when at the University of Oxford, I had beenknown to ride a bicycle in the nude about the quadrangle of our mutualcollege, there had been, I cannot deny, a certain amount of substance. Correct, however, though his facts were, so far as they went, he had nottold all. What he had omitted to mention was that I had invariably beenwell oiled at the time, and when in that condition a chap is capable offeats at which in cooler moments his reason would rebel. 

Stimulated by the juice, I believe, men have even been known to ridealligators. 

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 foundmyself wobbling badly, and all the stories I had ever heard of nastybicycle accidents came back to me with a rush, headed by Jeeves's UncleCyril's cheery little anecdote about Nicholls and Jackson. 

Pounding wearily through the darkness, I found myself at a loss to fathomthe mentality of men like Jeeves's Uncle Cyril. What on earth he couldsee funny in a disaster which had apparently involved the completeextinction of a human creature--or, at any rate, of half a human creatureand half another human creature--was more than I could understand. To me, the thing was one of the most poignant tragedies that had ever beenbrought to my attention, and I have no doubt that I should have continuedto brood over it for quite a time, had my thoughts not been diverted bythe sudden necessity of zigzagging sharply in order to avoid a pig in thefairway. 

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 thepart 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 theutmost. The fact that pigs were abroad in the night seemed to bring hometo me the perilous nature of my enterprise. It set me thinking of all theother things that could happen to a man out and about on a velocipedewithout a lamp after lighting-up time. In particular, I recalled thestatement of a pal of mine that in certain sections of the ruraldistricts goats were accustomed to stray across the road to the extent oftheir chains, thereby forming about as sound a booby trap as one couldwell wish. 

He mentioned, I remember, the case of a friend of his whose machine gotentangled with a goat chain and who was dragged seven miles--likeskijoring in Switzerland--so that he was never the same man again. Andthere was one chap who ran into an elephant, left over from a travellingcircus. 

Indeed, taking it for all in all, it seemed to me that, with the possibleexception of being bitten by sharks, there was virtually no front-pagedisaster that could not happen to a fellow, once he had allowed his dearones to override his better judgment and shove him out into the greatunknown on a push-bike, and I am not ashamed to confess that, taking itby and large, the amount of quailing I did from this point on was prettyconsiderable. 

However, in respect to goats and elephants, I must say things panned outunexpectedly well. 

Oddly enough, I encountered neither. But when you have said that you havesaid everything, for in every other way the conditions could scarcelyhave been fouler. 

Apart from the ceaseless anxiety of having to keep an eye skinned forelephants, I found myself much depressed by barking dogs, and once Ireceived a most unpleasant shock when, alighting to consult a signpost, Isaw 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 Ithought at first it was Aunt Agatha, and only when reason and reflectiontold me how alien to her habits it would be to climb signposts and sit onthem, could I pull myself together and overcome the weakness. 

In short, what with all this mental disturbance added to the more purelyphysical anguish in the billowy portions and the calves and ankles, theBertram Wooster who eventually toppled off at the door of Kingham Manorwas 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 thatKingham Manor was throwing its weight about a bit tonight. Lights shonein the windows, music was in the air, and as I drew nearer my eardetected 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 sumit up much better than by saying that there was a sound of revelry bynight. 

The orgy was taking place in one of the ground-floor rooms which hadFrench windows opening on to the drive, and it was to these Frenchwindows that I now made my way. An orchestra was playing something with agood deal of zip to it, and under happier conditions I dare say my feetwould have started twitching in time to the melody. But I had sternerwork 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 spotSeppings. Presently, however, he hove in view, doing fearfully lissomthings in mid-floor. I "Hi-Seppings!"-ed a couple of times, but his mindwas too much on his job to be diverted, and it was only when the swirl ofthe dance had brought him within prodding distance of my forefinger thata 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 itwas 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. "Giveme 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 ninemiles on a push-bike to listen to you trying to be funny. You've got itin 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 inthe garden before retiring for the night. He was to place the key on thekitchen window-sill. "

I stared at the man dumbly. His eye was clear, his hand steady. He hadnone 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 lossand not abreast; but of one thing, it seemed to me, there could be nodoubt. For some reason, not to be fathomed now, but most certainly to begone well into as soon as I had pushed this infernal sewing-machine ofmine over those nine miles of lonely, country road and got withinstriking distance of him, Jeeves had been doing the dirty. Knowing thatat any given moment he could have solved the whole situation, he had keptAunt Dahlia and others roosting out on the front lawn _en déshabille_and, worse still, had stood calmly by and watched his young employer setout 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 quiteconceivably have been capable of such conduct. But that it should beJeeves--

I leaped into the saddle and, stifling the cry of agony which rose to thelips as the bruised person touched the hard leather, set out on thehomeward journey. 

-23-

I remember Jeeves saying on one occasion--I forgot how the subject hadarisen--he may simply have thrown the observation out, as he doessometimes, for me to take or leave--that hell hath no fury like a womanscorned. 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 anaunt of his, flatly refusing to meet her son Gerald at Paddington andgive him lunch and see him off to school at Waterloo, and he never heardthe end of it. Letters were written, he tells me, which had to be seen tobe believed. Also two very strong telegrams and a bitter picture postcard with a view of the Little Chilbury War Memorial on it. 

Until tonight, therefore, as I say, I had never questioned the accuracyof the statement. Scorned women first and the rest nowhere, was how ithad always seemed to me. 

But tonight I revised my views. If you want to know what hell can reallydo in the way of furies, look for the chap who has been hornswoggled intotaking a long and unnecessary bicycle ride in the dark without a lamp. 

Mark that word "unnecessary". That was the part of it that really jabbedthe iron into the soul. I mean, if it was a case of riding to thedoctor's to save the child with croup, or going off to the local pub tofetch supplies in the event of the cellar having run dry, no one wouldleap to the handlebars more readily than I. Young Lochinvar, absolutely. But this business of being put through it merely to gratify one'spersonal 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 goodmen saw to it that I was enabled to complete the homeward journeyunscathed except in the billowy portions, removing from my path allgoats, elephants, and even owls that looked like my Aunt Agatha, it wasa frowning and jaundiced Bertram who finally came to anchor at theBrinkley Court front door. And when I saw a dark figure emerging fromthe porch to meet me, I prepared to let myself go and uncork all that wasfizzing in the mind. 

"Jeeves!" I said. 

"It is I, Bertie. "

The voice which spoke sounded like warm treacle, and even if I had notrecognized it immediately as that of the Bassett, I should have knownthat it did not proceed from the man I was yearning to confront. For thisfigure before me was wearing a simple tweed dress and had employed myfirst name in its remarks. And Jeeves, whatever his moral defects, wouldnever go about in skirts calling me Bertie. 

The last person, of course, whom I would have wished to meet after a longevening in the saddle, but I vouchsafed a courteous "What ho!"

There was a pause, during which I massaged the calves. Mine, of course, Imean. 

"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 searchingabout 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 happenedwhen this girl and I were closeted, the conversation once more went blueon 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, theway her mere presence seemed to wipe speech from my lips--and mine, forthat matter, from hers. It began to look as if our married life togetherwould 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 thoughtof these people carelessly revelling at a time when, for all they knew, Iwas probably being dragged about the countryside by goats or chewed byelephants, that struck home at me like a poisoned dart. It was the sortof thing you read about as having happened just before the FrenchRevolution--the haughty nobles in their castles callously digging in andquaffing while the unfortunate blighters outside were suffering frightfulprivations. 

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 conversationswhere you sit at your end of the wire saying: "Hullo! Hullo!" unawarethat 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 tosay. "

"Oh, I see. "

"Right-ho. "

So that was straightened out. Nevertheless, instead of proceeding shetook time off once more. She stood twisting the fingers and scratchingthe gravel with her foot. When finally she spoke, it was to deliver animpressive 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 'Idyllsof the King'. "

Of course I had heard of them--Lancelot, Galahad and all that lot, but Ididn't see where the resemblance came in. It seemed to me that she mustbe 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, sounselfish, so chivalrous. I have always felt that about you--that you areone of the few really chivalrous men I have ever met. "

Well, dashed difficult, of course, to know what to say when someone isgiving you the old oil on a scale like that. I muttered an "Oh, yes?" orsomething on those lines, and rubbed the billowy portions in someembarrassment. And there was another silence, broken only by a sharp howlas 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 menhave 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'vejust 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 befetched 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 soslow to apprehend the nub. 

"What?"

I staggered, and the left pedal came up and caught me on the shin. Butsuch 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 withGussie, 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 tosay after that, I excused myself on the ground that I had got about twopecks of dust down my back and would like to go and get my maid to put meinto 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 theforehead. Unpleasant, of course, but, as Anatole would say, I can take afew smooths with a rough. The next moment she was legging it for thedining-room, while I, having bunged the bicycle into a bush, made for thestairs. 

I need not dwell upon my buckedness. It can be readily imagined. Talkabout chaps with the noose round their necks and the hangman about to lether go and somebody galloping up on a foaming horse, waving thereprieve--not in it. Absolutely not in it at all. I don't know that Ican give you a better idea of the state of my feelings than by sayingthat as I started to cross the hall I was conscious of so profound abenevolence toward all created things that I found myself thinking kindlythoughts even of Jeeves. 

I was about to mount the stairs when a sudden "What ho!" from my rearcaused me to turn. Tuppy was standing in the hall. He had apparently beendown to the cellar for reinforcements, for there were a couple of bottlesunder his arm. 

"Hullo, Bertie, " he said. "You back?" He laughed amusedly. "You look likethe 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 thegood 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 thatAngela is once more out of pawn, and you have only to play your cardsproperly----"

He bellowed rollickingly. I saw now that he was in the pink. As a matterof fact, I had noticed something of the sort directly I met him, but hadattributed 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 Imade it up hours ago. "

"What?"

"Certainly. Nothing but a passing tiff. All you need in these matters isa little give and take, a bit of reasonableness on both sides. We gottogether and talked things over. She withdrew my double chin. I concededher shark. Perfectly simple. All done in a couple of minutes. "

"But----"

"Sorry, Bertie. Can't stop chatting with you all night. There is a ratherimpressive beano in progress in the dining-room, and they are waiting forsupplies. "

Endorsement was given to this statement by a sudden shout from theapartment 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 aboveherself. I don't know all the facts of the case, but it appears thatAnatole gave notice and has now consented to stay on, and also your unclehas 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 statethe simple truth. I could make nothing of this. I had left Brinkley Courta stricken home, with hearts bleeding wherever you looked, and I hadreturned 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 wastoo preoccupied to give it a thought. Still at a loss, I returned to myroom, and there was Jeeves. And it is proof of my fogged condish that myfirst words to him were words not of reproach and stern recrimination butof inquiry:

"I say, Jeeves!"

"Good evening, sir. I was informed that you had returned. I trust you hadan enjoyable ride. "

At any other moment, a crack like that would have woken the fiend inBertram Wooster. I barely noticed it. I was intent on getting to thebottom 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 beenhappening here since I left? The place is positively stiff with happyendings. "

"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 thatthat 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 withregard to my suggestion of ringing the fire bell. I had not reallyanticipated that it would in itself produce the desired results. I hadintended it merely as a preliminary to what I might describe as the realbusiness of the evening. "

"You gibber, Jeeves. "

"No, sir. It was essential that the ladies and gentlemen should bebrought from the house, in order that, once out of doors, I could ensurethat 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 sosatisfactorily unites individuals who have been so unfortunate as toquarrel amongst themselves as a strong mutual dislike for some definiteperson. In my own family, if I may give a homely illustration, it was agenerally accepted axiom that in times of domestic disagreement it wasnecessary only to invite my Aunt Annie for a visit to heal all breachesbetween the other members of the household. In the mutual animosityexcited by Aunt Annie, those who had become estranged were reconciledalmost immediately. Remembering this, it occurred to me that were you, sir, to be established as the person responsible for the ladies andgentlemen being forced to spend the night in the garden, everybody wouldtake so strong a dislike to you that in this common sympathy they wouldsooner 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. Afteryour departure on the bicycle, the various estranged parties agreed soheartily 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 beneaththe trees with Miss Angela, telling her anecdotes of your career at theuniversity in exchange for hers regarding your childhood; while Mr. Fink-Nottle, leaning against the sundial, held Miss Bassett enthralledwith stories of your schooldays. Mrs. Travers, meanwhile, was tellingMonsieur Anatole----"

I found speech. 

"Oh?" I said. "I see. And now, I suppose, as the result of this dashedpsychology of yours, Aunt Dahlia is so sore with me that it will be yearsbefore I can dare to show my face here again--years, Jeeves, duringwhich, night after night, Anatole will be cooking those dinners ofhis----"

"No, sir. It was to prevent any such contingency that I suggested thatyou should bicycle to Kingham Manor. When I informed the ladies andgentlemen that I had found the key, and it was borne in upon them thatyou were having that long ride for nothing, their animosity vanishedimmediately, to be replaced by cordial amusement. There was muchlaughter. "

"There was, eh?"

"Yes, sir. I fear you may possibly have to submit to a certain amount ofgood-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 mygenerous 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 factthat I was no longer engaged to Madeline Bassett. In a good cause one isprepared to suffer. Yes, looking at the thing from every angle, I sawthat Jeeves had done well, and it was with an approving beam that Iwelcomed him as he returned with the needful. 

He did not check up with this beam. A bit grave, he seemed to me to belooking, 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'sdisturbance 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 ofomelette the wrong way. 

"I am sorry to say, sir, that while I was ironing it this afternoon I wascareless enough to leave the hot instrument upon it. I very much fearthat 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 wesay on the Riviera, _à quoi sert-il_? There was nothing to be gained byg. W. Now. 

We Woosters can bite the bullet. I nodded moodily and speared anotherslab of omelette. 

"Right ho, Jeeves. "

"Very good, sir. "