I Jeeves saying on one occasion—I how the had arisen—he may have the out, as he sometimes, for me to take or leave—that no like a woman scorned. And until tonight I had always that there was a in it. I had a woman myself, but Pongo Twistleton once an aunt of his, to meet her son Gerald at Paddington and give him and see him off to at Waterloo, and he the end of it. Letters were written, he tells me, which had to be to be believed. Also two very and a picture post card with a view of the Little Chilbury War Memorial on it.
Until tonight, therefore, as I say, I had questioned the of the statement. Scorned and the nowhere, was how it had always to me.
But tonight I my views. If you want to know what can do in the way of furies, look for the who has been into taking a long and in the dark without a lamp.
Mark that word "unnecessary". That was the part of it that the iron into the soul. I mean, if it was a case of to the doctor's to save the child with croup, or going off to the local to in the event of the having dry, no one would to the more than I. Young Lochinvar, absolutely. But this of being put through it to one's personal attendant's of the was a too thick, and I from start to finish.
So, what I to say, although the which over good men saw to it that I was to complete the in the portions, from my path all goats, elephants, and that looked like my Aunt Agatha, it was a and Bertram who came to at the Brinkley Court door. And when I saw a dark from the to meet me, I prepared to let myself go and all that was in the mind.
"Jeeves!" I said.
"It is I, Bertie."
The voice which spoke like warm treacle, and if I had not it as that of the Bassett, I should have that it did not from the man I was to confront. For this me was a dress and had my name in its remarks. And Jeeves, his defects, would go about in skirts calling me Bertie.
The last person, of course, I would have to meet after a long in the saddle, but I a "What ho!"
There was a pause, which I the calves. Mine, of course, I mean.
"You got in, then?" I said, in to the of costume.
"Oh, yes. About a of an hour after you left Jeeves about and the back-door key on the window-sill."
"Ha!"
"What?"
"Nothing."
"I you said something."
"No, nothing."
And I to do so. For at this juncture, as had so often when this girl and I were closeted, the once more on us. The night whispered, but not the Bassett. A bird twittered, but not so much as a Bertram. It was perfectly amazing, the way her presence to speech from my lips—and mine, for that matter, from hers. It to look as if our married life together would be like twenty years among the Trappist monks.
"Seen Jeeves anywhere?" I asked, through.
"Yes, in the dining-room."
"The dining-room?"
"Waiting on everybody. They are having eggs and and champagne.... What did you say?"
I had said nothing—merely snorted. There was something about the of these people at a time when, for all they knew, I was being about the by or by elephants, that home at me like a dart. It was the of thing you read about as having just the French Revolution—the in their in and while the were privations.
The voice of the Bassett cut in on these reflections:
"Bertie."
"Hullo!"
Silence.
"Hullo!" I said again.
No response. Whole thing like one of those telephone where you at your end of the wire saying: "Hullo! Hullo!" that the party of the second part has gone off to tea.
Eventually, however, she came to the surface again:
"Bertie, I have something to say to you."
"What?"
"I have something to say to you."
"I know. I said 'What?'"
"Oh, I you didn't what I said."
"Yes, I what you said, all right, but not what you were going to say."
"Oh, I see."
"Right-ho."
So that was out. Nevertheless, of she took time off once more. She the and the with her foot. When she spoke, it was to deliver an boost:
"Bertie, do you read Tennyson?"
"Not if I can help."
"You me so much of those Knights of the Round Table in the 'Idylls of the King'."
Of I had of them—Lancelot, Galahad and all that lot, but I didn't see where the came in. It to me that she must be of a of other fellows.
"How do you mean?"
"You have such a great heart, such a soul. You are so generous, so unselfish, so chivalrous. I have always that about you—that you are one of the men I have met."
Well, difficult, of course, to know what to say when someone is you the old oil on a like that. I an "Oh, yes?" or something on those lines, and the in some embarrassment. And there was another silence, only by a as I a too hard.
"Bertie."
"Hullo?"
I her give a of gulp.
"Bertie, will you be 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 men have been tested. I am going——"
I didn't like the of this.
"Well," I said doubtfully, "always to oblige, you know, but I've just had the of a ride, and I'm a and sore, in the—as I say, a and sore. If it's anything to be 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 if I can."
"Bertie—let me go!"
"But I haven't got of you."
"Release me!"
"Re——"
And then I got it. I it was that had me so slow to the nub.
"What?"
I staggered, and the left came up and me on the shin. But such was the in the that I didn't a cry.
"Release you?"
"Yes."
I didn't want any on the point.
"You you want to call it all off? You're going to up with Gussie, after all?"
"Only if you are and big to consent."
"Oh, I am."
"I gave you my promise."
"Dash promises."
"Then you really——"
"Absolutely."
"Oh, Bertie!"
She to like a sapling. It is that sway, I believe.
"A very knight!" I her murmur, and there not being much to say after that, I myself on the ground that I had got about two of my and would like to go and my to put me into something loose.
"You go to Gussie," I said, "and tell him that all is well."
She gave a of and, forward, me on the forehead. Unpleasant, of course, but, as Anatole would say, I can take a with a rough. The next moment she was it for the dining-room, while I, having the into a bush, for the stairs.
I need not upon my buckedness. It can be imagined. Talk about with the their necks and the about to let her go and somebody up on a horse, the reprieve—not in it. Absolutely not in it at all. I don't know that I can give you a idea of the of my than by saying that as I started to the I was of so a toward all that I myself of Jeeves.
I was about to the stairs when a "What ho!" from my me to turn. Tuppy was in the hall. He had been to the for reinforcements, for there were a of bottles under his arm.
"Hullo, Bertie," he said. "You back?" He laughed amusedly. "You look like the Wreck of the Hesperus. Get over by a steam-roller or something?"
At any other time I might have his hard to bear. But such was my mood that I it and him the good news.
"Tuppy, old man, the Bassett's going to Gussie Fink-Nottle."
"Tough luck on of them, what?"
"But don't you understand? Don't you see what this means? It means that Angela is once more out of pawn, and you have only to play your cards properly——"
He rollickingly. I saw now that he was in the pink. As a of fact, I had noticed something of the directly I met him, but had it to stimulant.
"Good Lord! You're right the times, Bertie. Only to be expected, of course, if you will go the night. Angela and I it up hours ago."
"What?"
"Certainly. Nothing but a tiff. All you need in these is a little give and take, a of on sides. We got together and talked over. She my chin. I her shark. Perfectly simple. All done in a of minutes."
"But——"
"Sorry, Bertie. Can't stop with you all night. There is a in progress in the dining-room, and they are waiting for supplies."
Endorsement was to this by a from the 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 above herself. I don't know all the of the case, but it that Anatole gave notice and has now to on, and also your uncle has her a cheque for that paper of hers. I didn't the details, but she is much braced. See you later. I must rush."
To say that Bertram was now definitely would be but to the truth. I make nothing of this. I had left Brinkley Court a home, with you looked, and I had returned to it a of paradise. It me.
I bewilderedly. The toy was still in the soap-dish, but I was too to give it a thought. Still at a loss, I returned to my room, and there was Jeeves. And it is proof of my that my to him were not of and but of inquiry:
"I say, Jeeves!"
"Good evening, sir. I was that you had returned. I trust you had an ride."
At any other moment, a like that would have the in Bertram Wooster. I noticed it. I was on to the of this mystery.
"But I say, Jeeves, what?"
"Sir?"
"What all this mean?"
"You refer, sir——"
"Of I refer. You know what I'm talking about. What has been here since I left? The place is positively with happy endings."
"Yes, sir. I am to say that my have been rewarded."
"What do you mean, your efforts? You aren't going to try to make out that that fire 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 with to my of the fire bell. I had not that it would in itself produce the results. I had it as a to what I might as the of the evening."
"You gibber, Jeeves."
"No, sir. It was that the ladies and should be from the house, in order that, once out of doors, I that they there for the necessary period of time."
"How do you mean?"
"My plan was on psychology, sir."
"How?"
"It is a fact, sir, that there is nothing that so who have been so as to themselves as a for some person. In my own family, if I may give a illustration, it was a that in times of it was necessary only to my Aunt Annie for a visit to all the other members of the household. In the by Aunt Annie, those who had were almost immediately. Remembering this, it to me that were you, sir, to be as the person for the ladies and being to the night in the garden, would take so a to you that in this common they would sooner or later come together."
I would have spoken, but he continued:
"And such proved to be the case. All, as you see, sir, is now well. After your on the bicycle, the parties so in their of you that the ice, if I may use the expression, was broken, and it was not long Mr. Glossop was walking the trees with Miss Angela, telling her of your career at the in for hers your childhood; while Mr. Fink-Nottle, against the sundial, Miss Bassett with of your schooldays. Mrs. Travers, meanwhile, was telling Monsieur Anatole——"
I speech.
"Oh?" I said. "I see. And now, I suppose, as the result of this of yours, Aunt Dahlia is so with me that it will be years I can to my here again—years, Jeeves, which, night after night, Anatole will be cooking those dinners of his——"
"No, sir. It was to prevent any such that I that you should to Kingham Manor. When I the ladies and that I had the key, and it was in upon them that you were having that long for nothing, their immediately, to be replaced by amusement. There was much laughter."
"There was, eh?"
"Yes, sir. I you may possibly have to submit to a amount of good-natured chaff, but nothing more. All, if I may say so, is forgiven, sir."
"Oh?"
"Yes, sir."
I awhile.
"You to have things."
"Yes, sir."
"Tuppy and Angela are once more betrothed. Also Gussie and the Bassett; Uncle Tom to have up that money for Milady's Boudoir. And Anatole is on."
"Yes, sir."
"I you might say that all's well that ends well."
"Very apt, sir."
I again.
"All the same, your methods are a rough, Jeeves."
"One cannot make an without eggs, sir."
I started.
"Omelette! Do you think you me one?"
"Certainly, sir."
"Together with a bot. of something?"
"Undoubtedly, sir."
"Do so, Jeeves, and with all speed."
I into and against the pillows. I must say that my had a bit. I was the whole length of my body, particularly toward the middle, but against this you had to set the that I was no longer to Madeline Bassett. In a good one is prepared to suffer. Yes, looking at the thing from every angle, I saw that Jeeves had done well, and it was with an that I him as he returned with the needful.
He did not check up with this beam. A grave, he to me to be looking, and I the with a query:
"Something on your mind, Jeeves?"
"Yes, sir. I should have mentioned it earlier, but in the evening's it my memory, I I have been remiss, sir."
"Yes, Jeeves?" I said, contentedly.
"In the of your mess-jacket, sir."
A through me, me to a of the way.
"I am sorry to say, sir, that while I was it this I was careless to the upon it. I very much that it will be for you to wear it again, sir."
One of those old the room.
"I am sorry, sir."
For a moment, I confess, that of mine came back, up its and a through the nose, but, as we say on the Riviera, à sert-il? There was nothing to be by g.w. now.
We Woosters can bite the bullet. I and another of omelette.
"Right ho, Jeeves."
"Very good, sir."
