"I should be disposed to imagine so, sir."
The man's tone was cold and soupy; and, scanning his face, I observed
on it an If-you-would-only-be-guided-by-me expression which annoyed me
intensely. There are moments when Jeeves looks just like an aunt.
"Right," I said, ignoring him once more--and rather pointedly, at that.
"Then I'll expect you at seven-thirty. Don't be late. And see," I
added, just to show the girl that beneath the smiling exterior I was a
man of iron, "that the kid has her hands washed and does not sniff."
I had not, I confess, looked forward with any great keenness to
hobnobbing with Bobbie Wickham's cousin Clementina, but I'm bound to
admit that she might have been considerably worse. Small girls, as a
rule, I have noticed, are inclined, when in the presence, to giggle
a good deal. They snigger and they stare. I look up and find their
eyes glued on me in an incredulous manner, as if they were reluctant
to believe that I was really true. I suspect them of being in the
process of memorizing any little peculiarities of deportment that I
may possess, in order to reproduce them later for the entertainment of
their fellow inmates.
With the kid Clementina there was nothing of this description. She
was a quiet, saintlike child of about thirteen--in fact, seeing that
this was her birthday, exactly thirteen--and her gaze, when she was
confronted with me, revealed only silent admiration. Her hands were
spotless; she had not a cold in the head; and at dinner, during which
her behaviour was unexceptionable, she proved a sympathetic listener,
hanging on my lips, so to speak, when with the aid of a fork and two
peas I explained to her how my opponent that afternoon had stymied me
on the tenth.
She was equally above criticism at the movies, and at the conclusion of
the proceedings thanked me for the treat with visible emotion. I was
pleased with the child, and said as much to Bobbie while assisting her
into her two-seater.
"Yes, I told you she was a dear," said Bobbie, treading on the
self-starter in preparation for the dash to London. "I always insist
that they misjudge her at that school. They're always misjudging
people. They misjudged me when I was there."
"Misjudge her? How?"
"Oh, in various ways. But then, what can you expect of a dump like St.
Ethelburga's?"