Sue stared at him, bewildered.
"Broken off the engagement?"
"Broken off the engagement."
In moments of stress the foolish question is always the one that comes
uppermost in the mind.
"Are you sure?"
Hugo emitted a sound which resembled the bursting of a paper bag. He
would have said himself, if asked, that he was laughing mirthlessly.
"Sure? Not much doubt about it."
"But why?"
"She knows all."
"All what?"
"Everything, you poor fish," said Hugo, forgetting in a strong man's
agony the polish of the Carmodys. "She's found out that I took you to
dinner last night."
"What!"
"She has."
"But how?"
The paper bag exploded again. A look of intense bitterness came into
Hugo's face.
"If ever I meet that slimy, slinking, marcelle-waved by-product Pilbeam
again," he said, "let him commend his soul to God! If he has time," he
added.
He took the brandy-and-soda from the waiter and eyed Sue dully.
"Anything on similar lines for you?"
"No, thanks."
"Just as you like. It's not easy for a man in my position to realize,"
said Hugo, drinking deeply, "that refusing a brandy-and-soda is
possible. I shouldn't have said, offhand, that it could be done."
Sue was a warm-hearted girl. In the tragedy of this announcement she
had almost forgotten that she had troubles herself.
"Tell me all about it, Hugo."
He put down the empty glass.
"I came up from Blandings yesterday," he said, "to interview the Argus
Enquiry Agency on the subject of sending a man down to investigate the
theft of Lord Emsworth's pig."
Sue would have liked to hear more about this pig, but she knew that
this was no time for questions.
"I went to the Argus and saw this wen Pilbeam, who runs it."
Again Sue would have liked to speak. Once more she refrained. She felt
as if she were at a sick-bed, hearing a dying man's last words. On such
occasions one does not interrupt.
"Meanwhile," proceeded Hugo tonelessly, "Millicent, suspecting--and I
am surprised at her having a mind like that; I always looked on her
as a pure, white soul--suspecting that I might be up to something in
London, got the Argus on the long-distance telephone and told them to
follow my movements and report to her. And, apparently, just before
she called me up, she had been talking to them on the wire and getting
their statement. All this she revealed to me in short, burning
sentences, and then she said that if I thought we were still engaged I
could have three more guesses. But, to save me trouble, she would tell
me the right answer--viz.: No wedding bells for me. And to think," said
Hugo, picking up the glass and putting it down again, after inspection,
with a hurt and disappointed look, "that I actually rallied this growth
Pilbeam on the subject of following people and reporting on their
movements. Yes, I assure you. Rallied him blithely. Just as I was
leaving his office we kidded merrily back and forth. And then I went
out into the world, happy and care-free, little knowing that my every
step was dogged by a blasted bloodhound. Well, all I can say is that,
if Ronnie wants this Pilbeam's gore, and I gather that he does, he will
jolly well have to wait till I've helped myself."
Sue, womanlike, blamed the woman.
"I don't think Millicent can be a very nice girl," she said primly.
"An angel," said Hugo. "Always was. Celebrated for it. I don't blame
her."
"I do."
"I don't."
"I do."
"Well, have it your own way," said Hugo handsomely. He beckoned to the
waiter. "Another of the same, please."
"This settles it," said Sue.
Her eyes were sparkling. Her chin had a resolute tilt.
"Settles what?"
"While you were at the telephone, I had an idea."
"I have had ideas in my time," said Hugo. "Many of them. At the moment
I have but one. To get within arm's length of the yam Pilbeam and twist
his greasy neck till it comes apart in my hands. 'What do you do here?'
I said. 'Measure footprints?' 'We follow people and report on their
movements,' said he. 'Ha-ha!' I laughed carelessly. 'Ha-ha!' laughed
he. General mirth and jollity. And all the while----"
"Hugo, will you listen?"
"And this is the bitter thought that now strikes me. What chance have
I of scooping out the man's inside with my bare hands? I've got to go
back to Blandings on the two-fifteen or I lose my job. Leaving him
unscathed in his bally lair, chuckling over my downfall and following
some other poor devil's movements."
"Hugo!"
The broken man passed a weary hand over his forehead.
"You spoke?"
"I've been speaking for the last ten minutes, only you won't listen."
"Say on," said Hugo listlessly, starting on the second restorative.
"Have you ever heard of a Miss Schoonmaker?"
"I seem to know the name. Who is she?"
"Me."
Hugo lowered his glass, pained.
"Don't talk drip to a broken-hearted man," he begged. "What do you
mean?"
"When Ronnie was driving me in his car we met Lady Constance Keeble."
"A blister," said Hugo. "Always was. Generally admitted all over
Shropshire."
"She thought I was this Miss Schoonmaker."
"Why?"
"Because Ronnie said I was."
Hugo sighed hopelessly.
"Complex. Complex. My God, how complex!"
"It was quite simple and natural. Ronnie had just been telling me about
this girl--how he had met her at Biarritz and that she was coming to
Blandings, and so on, and when he saw Lady Constance looking at me with
frightful suspicion it suddenly occurred to him to say that I was her."
"That you were Lady Constance?"
"No, idiot. Miss Schoonmaker. And now I'm going to wire her--Lady
Constance, not Miss Schoonmaker, in case you were going to ask--saying
that I'm coming to Blandings right away."
"Pretending to be this Miss Schoonmaker?"
"Yes."
Hugo shook his head.
"Imposs."
"Why?"
"Absolutely out of the q."
"Why? Lady Constance is expecting me. Do be sensible."
"I'm being sensible all right. But somebody is gibbering and, naming no
names, it's you. Don't you realize that, just as you reach the front
door, this Miss Schoonmaker will arrive in person, dishing the whole
thing?"
"No, she won't."
"Why won't she?"
"Because Ronnie sent her a telegram, in Lady Constance's name, saying
that there's scarlet fever or something at Blandings and she wasn't to
come."
Hugo's air of the superior critic fell from him like a garment. He sat
up in his chair. So moved was he that he spilled his brandy-and-soda
and did not give it so much as a look of regret. He let it soak into
the carpet unheeded.
"Sue!"
"Once I'm at Blandings I shall be able to see Ronnie and make him be
sensible."
"That's right."
"And then you'll be able to tell Millicent that there couldn't have
been much harm in my being out with you last night because I'm engaged
to Ronnie."
"That's right, too."
"Can you see any flaws?"
"Not a flaw."
"I suppose, as a matter of fact, you'll give the whole thing away in
the first five minutes by calling me Sue."
Hugo waved an arm buoyantly.
"Don't give the possibility another thought," he said. "If I do I'll
cover it up adroitly by saying I meant 'Schoo.' Short for Schoonmaker.
And now go and send her another telegram. Keep on sending telegrams.
Leave nothing to chance. Send a dozen and pitch it strong. Say that
Blandings Castle is ravaged with disease. Not merely scarlet fever.
Scarlet fever _and_ mumps. Not to mention housemaid's knee, diabetes,
measles, shingles, and the botts. We're onto a big thing, my Susan. Let
us push it along."