“You mean you want to call it all off? You’re going to hitch up with
Gussie, after all?”
“Only if you are fine and big enough to consent.”
“Oh, I am.”
“I gave you my promise.”
“Dash promises.”
“Then you really----”
“Absolutely.”
“Oh, Bertie!”
She seemed to sway like a sapling. It is saplings that sway, I believe.
“A very parfait knight!” I heard her murmur, and there not being much
to say after that, I excused myself on the ground that I had got about
two pecks of dust down my back and would like to go and get my maid to
put me into something loose.
“You go back to Gussie,” I said, “and tell him that all is well.”
She gave a sort of hiccup and, darting forward, kissed me on the
forehead. Unpleasant, of course, but, as Anatole would say, I can take
a few smooths with a rough. The next moment she was legging it for the
dining-room, while I, having bunged the bicycle into a bush, made for
the stairs.
I need not dwell upon my buckedness. It can be readily imagined. Talk
about chaps with the noose round their necks and the hangman about to
let her go and somebody galloping up on a foaming horse, waving the
reprieve--not in it. Absolutely not in it at all. I don’t know that I
can give you a better idea of the state of my feelings than by saying
that as I started to cross the hall I was conscious of so profound a
benevolence toward all created things that I found myself thinking
kindly thoughts even of Jeeves.
I was about to mount the stairs when a sudden “What ho!” from my rear
caused me to turn. Tuppy was standing in the hall. He had apparently
been down to the cellar for reinforcements, for there were a couple of
bottles under his arm.
“Hullo, Bertie,” he said. “You back?” He laughed amusedly. “You look
like the Wreck of the Hesperus. Get run over by a steam-roller or
something?”
At any other time I might have found his coarse badinage hard to bear.
But such was my uplifted mood that I waved it aside and slipped him the
good news.
“Tuppy, old man, the Bassett’s going to marry Gussie Fink-Nottle.”
“Tough luck on both of them, what?”
“But don’t you understand? Don’t you see what this means? It means that
Angela is once more out of pawn, and you have only to play your cards
properly----”
He bellowed rollickingly. I saw now that he was in the pink. As a
matter of fact, I had noticed something of the sort directly I met him,
but had attributed it to alcoholic stimulant.
“Good Lord! You’re right behind the times, Bertie. Only to be expected,
of course, if you will go riding bicycles half the night. Angela and I
made it up hours ago.”
“What?”
“Certainly. Nothing but a passing tiff. All you need in these matters
is a little give and take, a bit of reasonableness on both sides. We
got together and talked things over. She withdrew my double chin. I
conceded her shark. Perfectly simple. All done in a couple of minutes.”
“But----”
“Sorry, Bertie. Can’t stop chatting with you all night. There is a
rather impressive beano in progress in the dining-room, and they are
waiting for supplies.”
Endorsement was given to this statement by a sudden shout from the
apartment named. I recognized--as who would not--Aunt Dahlia’s voice:
“Glossop!”
“Hullo?”
“Hurry up with that stuff.”
“Coming, coming.”
“Well, come, then. Yoicks! Hard for-rard!”
“Tallyho, not to mention tantivy. Your aunt,” said Tuppy, “is a bit
above herself. I don’t know all the facts of the case, but it appears
that Anatole gave notice and has now consented to stay on, and also
your uncle has given her a cheque for that paper of hers. I didn’t get
the details, but she is much braced. See you later. I must rush.”
To say that Bertram was now definitely nonplussed would be but to state
the simple truth. I could make nothing of this. I had left Brinkley
Court a stricken home, with hearts bleeding wherever you looked, and I
had returned to find it a sort of earthly paradise. It baffled me.
I bathed bewilderedly. The toy duck was still in the soap-dish, but I
was too preoccupied to give it a thought. Still at a loss, I returned
to my room, and there was Jeeves. And it is proof of my fogged condish
that my first words to him were words not of reproach and stern
recrimination but of inquiry:
“I say, Jeeves!”
“Good evening, sir. I was informed that you had returned. I trust you
had an enjoyable ride.”
At any other moment, a crack like that would have woken the fiend in
Bertram Wooster. I barely noticed it. I was intent on getting to the
bottom of this mystery.
“But I say, Jeeves, what?”
“Sir?”
“What does all this mean?”
“You refer, sir----”
“Of course I refer. You know what I’m talking about. What has been
happening here since I left? The place is positively stiff with happy
endings.”
“Yes, sir. I am glad to say that my efforts have been rewarded.”
“What do you mean, your efforts? You aren’t going to try to make out
that that rotten fire bell scheme of yours had anything to do with it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t be an ass, Jeeves. It flopped.”
“Not altogether, sir. I fear, sir, that I was not entirely frank with
regard to my suggestion of ringing the fire bell. I had not really
anticipated that it would in itself produce the desired results. I had
intended it merely as a preliminary to what I might describe as the
real business of the evening.”
“You gibber, Jeeves.”
“No, sir. It was essential that the ladies and gentlemen should be
brought from the house, in order that, once out of doors, I could
ensure that they remained there for the necessary period of time.”
“How do you mean?”
“My plan was based on psychology, sir.”
“How?”
“It is a recognized fact, sir, that there is nothing that so
satisfactorily unites individuals who have been so unfortunate as to
quarrel amongst themselves as a strong mutual dislike for some definite
person. In my own family, if I may give a homely illustration, it was a
generally accepted axiom that in times of domestic disagreement it was
necessary only to invite my Aunt Annie for a visit to heal all breaches
between the other members of the household. In the mutual animosity
excited by Aunt Annie, those who had become estranged were reconciled
almost immediately. Remembering this, it occurred to me that were you,
sir, to be established as the person responsible for the ladies and
gentlemen being forced to spend the night in the garden, everybody
would take so strong a dislike to you that in this common sympathy they
would sooner or later come together.”