_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.”