"You vagabond!" he said. "'Pon my word, old horse, to look at you, one
would never have thought you'd have had it in you."
"I can't help looking respectable."
"What are you going to do about it? The old man's got it up against
you good and strong, there's no doubt of that."
"That's where I wanted your advice. You're a man of resource. What
would you do if you were in my place?"
Ukridge tapped me impressively on the shoulder.
"Marmaduke," he said, "there's one thing that'll carry you through any
mess."
"And that is--"
"Cheek, my boy--cheek! Gall! Why, take my case. I never told you how I
came to marry, did I? I thought not. Well, it was this way. You've
heard us mention Millie's Aunt Elizabeth--what? Well, then, when I
tell you that she was Millie's nearest relative, and it was her
consent I had to gather, you'll see that it wasn't a walk-over."
"Well?" I said.
"First time I saw Millie was in a first-class carriage on the
underground. I'd got a third-class ticket, by the way. We weren't
alone. It was five a side. But she sat opposite me, and I fell in love
with her there and then. We both got out at South Kensington. I
followed her. She went to a house in Thurloe Square. I waited outside
and thought it over. I had got to get into that house and make her
acquaintance. So I rang the bell. 'Is Lady Lichenhall at home?' I
asked. You note the artfulness? My asking for Lady Lichenhall made 'em
think I was one of the upper ten--what?"
"How were you dressed?" I could not help asking.
"Oh, it was one of my frock-coat days. I'd been to see a man about
tutoring his son. There was nothing the matter with my appearance.
'No,' said the servant, 'nobody of that name lives here. This is Lady
Lakenheath's house.' So, you see, I had luck at the start, because the
two names were a bit alike. Well, I got the servant to show me in
somehow, and, once in, you can wager I talked for all I was worth.
Kept up a flow of conversation about being misdirected and coming to
the wrong house, and so on. Went away, and called a few days later.
Called regularly. Met 'em at every theater they went to, and bowed,
and finally got away with Millie before her aunt could tell what was
happening, or who I was or what I was doing or anything."
"And what's the moral?" I said.
"Why, go in hard. Rush 'em. Bustle 'em. Don't give 'em a moment's
rest."
"Don't play the goose game," I said with that curious thrill we feel
when somebody's independent view of a matter coincides with one's own.
"That's it. Don't play the goose game. Don't give 'em time to think.
Why, if I'd given Millie's aunt time to think, where should we have
been? Not at Lyme Regis together, I'll bet."
"Ukridge," I said, "you inspire me. You would inspire a caterpillar. I
will go to the professor--I was going anyhow--but now I shall go
aggressively, and bustle him. I will surprise a father's blessing out
of him, if I have to do it with a crowbar!"