RIGHT
HO JEEVES
PART
4
-6-
Gussie, on
arrival, proved to be still showing traces of his grim experience. The face was
pale, the eyes gooseberry-like, the ears drooping, and the whole aspect that of
a man who has passed through the furnace and been caught in the machinery. I
hitched myself up a bit higher on the pillows and gazed at him narrowly. It was
a moment, I could see, when first aid was required, and I prepared to get down
to cases.
"Well,
Gussie."
"Hullo,
Bertie."
"What
ho."
"What
ho."
These
civilities concluded, I felt that the moment had come to touch delicately on
the past.
"I
hear you've been through it a bit."
"Yes."
"Thanks
to Jeeves."
"It
wasn't Jeeves's fault."
"Entirely
Jeeves's fault."
"I
don't see that. I forgot my money and latchkey——"
"And
now you'd better forget Jeeves. For you will be interested to hear,
Gussie," I said, deeming it best to put him in touch with the position of
affairs right away, "that he is no longer handling your little
problem."
This
seemed to slip it across him properly. The jaws fell, the ears drooped more
limply. He had been looking like a dead fish. He now looked like a deader fish,
one of last year's, cast up on some lonely beach and left there at the mercy of
the wind and tides.
"What!"
"Yes."
"You
don't mean that Jeeves isn't going to——"
"No."
"But,
dash it——"
I was
kind, but firm.
"You
will be much better off without him. Surely your terrible experiences of that
awful night have told you that Jeeves needs a rest. The keenest of thinkers
strikes a bad patch occasionally. That is what has happened to Jeeves. I have
seen it coming on for some time. He has lost his form. He wants his plugs
decarbonized. No doubt this is a shock to you. I suppose you came here this
morning to seek his advice?"
"Of
course I did."
"On
what point?"
"Madeline
Bassett has gone to stay with these people in the country, and I want to know
what he thinks I ought to do."
"Well,
as I say, Jeeves is off the case."
"But,
Bertie, dash it——"
"Jeeves,"
I said with a certain asperity, "is no longer on the case. I am now in
sole charge."
"But
what on earth can you do?"
I curbed
my resentment. We Woosters are fair-minded. We can make allowances for men who
have been parading London all night in scarlet tights.
"That,"
I said quietly, "we shall see. Sit down and let us confer. I am bound to
say the thing seems quite simple to me. You say this girl has gone to visit
friends in the country. It would appear obvious that you must go there too, and
flock round her like a poultice. Elementary."
"But
I can't plant myself on a lot of perfect strangers."
"Don't
you know these people?"
"Of
course I don't. I don't know anybody."
I pursed
the lips. This did seem to complicate matters somewhat.
"All
that I know is that their name is Travers, and it's a place called Brinkley
Court down in Worcestershire."
I unpursed
my lips.
"Gussie,"
I said, smiling paternally, "it was a lucky day for you when Bertram
Wooster interested himself in your affairs. As I foresaw from the start, I can
fix everything. This afternoon you shall go to Brinkley Court, an honoured
guest."
He
quivered like a mousse. I suppose it must always be rather a thrilling
experience for the novice to watch me taking hold.
"But,
Bertie, you don't mean you know these Traverses?"
"They
are my Aunt Dahlia."
"My
gosh!"
"You
see now," I pointed out, "how lucky you were to get me behind you.
You go to Jeeves, and what does he do? He dresses you up in scarlet tights and
one of the foulest false beards of my experience, and sends you off to
fancy-dress balls. Result, agony of spirit and no progress. I then take over
and put you on the right lines. Could Jeeves have got you into Brinkley Court?
Not a chance. Aunt Dahlia isn't his aunt. I merely mention these things."
"By Jove,
Bertie, I don't know how to thank you."
"My
dear chap!"
"But,
I say."
"Now
what?"
"What
do I do when I get there?"
"If
you knew Brinkley Court, you would not ask that question. In those romantic
surroundings you can't miss. Great lovers through the ages have fixed up the
preliminary formalities at Brinkley. The place is simply ill with atmosphere.
You will stroll with the girl in the shady walks. You will sit with her on the
shady lawns. You will row on the lake with her. And gradually you will find
yourself working up to a point where——"
"By
Jove, I believe you're right."
"Of
course, I'm right. I've got engaged three times at Brinkley. No business
resulted, but the fact remains. And I went there without the foggiest idea of
indulging in the tender pash. I hadn't the slightest intention of proposing to
anybody. Yet no sooner had I entered those romantic grounds than I found myself
reaching out for the nearest girl in sight and slapping my soul down in front
of her. It's something in the air."
"I see
exactly what you mean. That's just what I want to be able to do—work up to it.
And in London—curse the place—everything's in such a rush that you don't get a
chance."
"Quite.
You see a girl alone for about five minutes a day, and if you want to ask her
to be your wife, you've got to charge into it as if you were trying to grab the
gold ring on a merry-go-round."
"That's
right. London rattles one. I shall be a different man altogether in the
country. What a bit of luck this Travers woman turning out to be your
aunt."
"I
don't know what you mean, turning out to be my aunt. She has been my aunt all
along."
"I
mean, how extraordinary that it should be your aunt that Madeline's going to
stay with."
"Not
at all. She and my Cousin Angela are close friends. At Cannes she was with us
all the time."
"Oh,
you met Madeline at Cannes, did you? By Jove, Bertie," said the poor
lizard devoutly, "I wish I could have seen her at Cannes. How wonderful
she must have looked in beach pyjamas! Oh, Bertie——"
"Quite,"
I said, a little distantly. Even when restored by one of Jeeves's depth bombs,
one doesn't want this sort of thing after a hard night. I touched the bell and,
when Jeeves appeared, requested him to bring me telegraph form and pencil. I
then wrote a well-worded communication to Aunt Dahlia, informing her that I was
sending my friend, Augustus Fink-Nottle, down to Brinkley today to enjoy her
hospitality, and handed it to Gussie.
"Push
that in at the first post office you pass," I said. "She will find it
waiting for her on her return."
Gussie
popped along, flapping the telegram and looking like a close-up of Joan
Crawford, and I turned to Jeeves and gave him a précis of my operations.
"Simple,
you observe, Jeeves. Nothing elaborate."
"No,
sir."
"Nothing
far-fetched. Nothing strained or bizarre. Just Nature's remedy."
"Yes,
sir."
"This
is the attack as it should have been delivered. What do you call it when two
people of opposite sexes are bunged together in close association in a secluded
spot, meeting each other every day and seeing a lot of each other?"
"Is
'propinquity' the word you wish, sir?"
"It
is. I stake everything on propinquity, Jeeves. Propinquity, in my opinion, is
what will do the trick. At the moment, as you are aware, Gussie is a mere jelly
when in the presence. But ask yourself how he will feel in a week or so, after
he and she have been helping themselves to sausages out of the same dish day
after day at the breakfast sideboard. Cutting the same ham, ladling out
communal kidneys and bacon—why——"
I broke
off abruptly. I had had one of my ideas.
"Golly,
Jeeves!"
"Sir?"
"Here's
an instance of how you have to think of everything. You heard me mention
sausages, kidneys and bacon and ham."
"Yes,
sir."
"Well,
there must be nothing of that. Fatal. The wrong note entirely. Give me that
telegraph form and pencil. I must warn Gussie without delay. What he's got to
do is to create in this girl's mind the impression that he is pining away for
love of her. This cannot be done by wolfing sausages."
"No,
sir."
"Very
well, then."
And,
taking form and p., I drafted the following:
Fink-Nottle
Brinkley
Court,
Market
Snodsbury
Worcestershire
Lay off
the sausages. Avoid the ham. Bertie.
"Send
that off, Jeeves, instanter."
"Very
good, sir."
I sank back
on the pillows.
"Well,
Jeeves," I said, "you see how I am taking hold. You notice the grip I
am getting on this case. No doubt you realize now that it would pay you to
study my methods."
"No
doubt, sir."
"And
even now you aren't on to the full depths of the extraordinary sagacity I've
shown. Do you know what brought Aunt Dahlia up here this morning? She came to
tell me I'd got to distribute the prizes at some beastly seminary she's a
governor of down at Market Snodsbury."
"Indeed,
sir? I fear you will scarcely find that a congenial task."
"Ah,
but I'm not going to do it. I'm going to shove it off on to Gussie."
"Sir?"
"I
propose, Jeeves, to wire to Aunt Dahlia saying that I can't get down, and
suggesting that she unleashes him on these young Borstal inmates of hers in my
stead."
"But
if Mr. Fink-Nottle should decline, sir?"
"Decline?
Can you see him declining? Just conjure up the picture in your mind, Jeeves.
Scene, the drawing-room at Brinkley; Gussie wedged into a corner, with Aunt
Dahlia standing over him making hunting noises. I put it to you, Jeeves, can
you see him declining?"
"Not
readily, sir. I agree. Mrs. Travers is a forceful personality."
"He
won't have a hope of declining. His only way out would be to slide off. And he
can't slide off, because he wants to be with Miss Bassett. No, Gussie will have
to toe the line, and I shall be saved from a job at which I confess the soul
shuddered. Getting up on a platform and delivering a short, manly speech to a
lot of foul school-kids! Golly, Jeeves. I've been through that sort of thing
once, what? You remember that time at the girls' school?"
"Very
vividly, sir."
"What
an ass I made of myself!"
"Certainly
I have seen you to better advantage, sir."
"I
think you might bring me just one more of those dynamite specials of yours,
Jeeves. This narrow squeak has made me come over all faint."
I suppose
it must have taken Aunt Dahlia three hours or so to get back to Brinkley,
because it wasn't till well after lunch that her telegram arrived. It read like
a telegram that had been dispatched in a white-hot surge of emotion some two
minutes after she had read mine.
As
follows:
Am
taking legal advice to ascertain whether strangling an idiot nephew counts as
murder. If it doesn't look out for yourself. Consider your conduct frozen
limit. What do you mean by planting your loathsome friends on me like this? Do
you think Brinkley Court is a leper colony or what is it? Who is this
Spink-Bottle? Love. Travers.
I had
expected some such initial reaction. I replied in temperate vein:
Not
Bottle. Nottle. Regards. Bertie.
Almost
immediately after she had dispatched the above heart cry, Gussie must have
arrived, for it wasn't twenty minutes later when I received the following:
Cipher
telegram signed by you has reached me here. Runs "Lay off the sausages.
Avoid the ham." Wire key immediately. Fink-Nottle.
I replied:
Also
kidneys. Cheerio. Bertie.
I had
staked all on Gussie making a favourable impression on his hostess, basing my
confidence on the fact that he was one of those timid, obsequious,
teacup-passing, thin-bread-and-butter-offering yes-men whom women of my Aunt
Dahlia's type nearly always like at first sight. That I had not overrated my
acumen was proved by her next in order, which, I was pleased to note, assayed a
markedly larger percentage of the milk of human kindness.
As
follows:
Well,
this friend of yours has got here, and I must say that for a friend of yours he
seems less sub-human than I had expected. A bit of a pop-eyed bleater, but on
the whole clean and civil, and certainly most informative about newts. Am
considering arranging series of lectures for him in neighbourhood. All the same
I like your nerve using my house as a summer-hotel resort and shall have much
to say to you on subject when you come down. Expect you thirtieth. Bring spats.
Love. Travers.
To this I
riposted:
On
consulting engagement book find impossible come Brinkley Court. Deeply regret.
Toodle-oo. Bertie.
Hers in
reply stuck a sinister note:
Oh, so
it's like that, is it? You and your engagement book, indeed. Deeply regret my
foot. Let me tell you, my lad, that you will regret it a jolly sight more
deeply if you don't come down. If you imagine for one moment that you are going
to get out of distributing those prizes, you are very much mistaken. Deeply
regret Brinkley Court hundred miles from London, as unable hit you with a
brick. Love. Travers.
I then put
my fortune to the test, to win or lose it all. It was not a moment for petty
economies. I let myself go regardless of expense:
No, but
dash it, listen. Honestly, you don't want me. Get Fink-Nottle distribute
prizes. A born distributor, who will do you credit. Confidently anticipate
Augustus Fink-Nottle as Master of Revels on thirty-first inst. would make
genuine sensation. Do not miss this great chance, which may never occur again.
Tinkerty-tonk. Bertie.
There was
an hour of breathless suspense, and then the joyful tidings arrived:
Well,
all right. Something in what you say, I suppose. Consider you treacherous worm
and contemptible, spineless cowardly custard, but have booked Spink-Bottle.
Stay where you are, then, and I hope you get run over by an omnibus. Love.
Travers.
The relief,
as you may well imagine, was stupendous. A great weight seemed to have rolled
off my mind. It was as if somebody had been pouring Jeeves's pick-me-ups into
me through a funnel. I sang as I dressed for dinner that night. At the Drones I
was so gay and cheery that there were several complaints. And when I got home
and turned into the old bed, I fell asleep like a little child within five
minutes of inserting the person between the sheets. It seemed to me that the
whole distressing affair might now be considered definitely closed.
Conceive
my astonishment, therefore, when waking on the morrow and sitting up to dig
into the morning tea-cup, I beheld on the tray another telegram.
My heart
sank. Could Aunt Dahlia have slept on it and changed her mind? Could Gussie,
unable to face the ordeal confronting him, have legged it during the night down
a water-pipe? With these speculations racing through the bean, I tore open the
envelope And as I noted contents I uttered a startled yip.
"Sir?"
said Jeeves, pausing at the door.
I read the
thing again. Yes, I had got the gist all right. No, I had not been deceived in
the substance.
"Jeeves,"
I said, "do you know what?"
"No,
sir."
"You
know my cousin Angela?"
"Yes,
sir."
"You
know young Tuppy Glossop?"
"Yes,
sir."
"They've
broken off their engagement."
"I am
sorry to hear that, sir."
"I
have here a communication from Aunt Dahlia, specifically stating this. I wonder
what the row was about."
"I
could not say, sir."
"Of
course you couldn't. Don't be an ass, Jeeves."
"No,
sir."
I brooded.
I was deeply moved.
"Well,
this means that we shall have to go down to Brinkley today. Aunt Dahlia is
obviously all of a twitter, and my place is by her side. You had better pack
this morning, and catch that 12.45 train with the luggage. I have a lunch
engagement, so will follow in the car."
"Very
good, sir."
I brooded
some more.
"I
must say this has come as a great shock to me, Jeeves."
"No
doubt, sir."
"A
very great shock. Angela and Tuppy.... Tut, tut! Why, they seemed like the
paper on the wall. Life is full of sadness, Jeeves."
"Yes,
sir."
"Still,
there it is."
"Undoubtedly,
sir."
"Right
ho, then. Switch on the bath."
"Very
good, sir."
To be continued
