'Do you see much of him?'
'A goodish bit.'
'I saw in the paper the other day that he was fined for making a
disgraceful disturbance in the street.'
'Yes, I saw that.'
She gazed at me in a foul, motherly way.
'He can't be a good influence for you,' she said. 'I do wish you would
drop him. Will you?'
'Well--' I began. And at this point old Cuthbert, the cat, having
presumably found it a bit slow by himself in the bushes, wandered in
with a matey expression on his face and jumped on my lap. I welcomed
him with a good deal of cordiality. Though but a cat, he did make a
sort of third at this party; and he afforded a good excuse for changing
the conversation.
'Jolly birds, cats,' I said.
She wasn't having any.
'Will you drop Bertie Wooster?' she said, absolutely ignoring the cat
_motif_.
'It would be so difficult.'
'Nonsense! It only needs a little will-power. The man surely can't be
so interesting a companion as all that. Uncle Roderick says he is an
invertebrate waster.'
I could have mentioned a few things that I thought Uncle Roderick was,
but my lips were sealed, so to speak.
'You have changed a great deal since we last met,' said the Pringle
disease reproachfully. She bent forward and began to scratch the cat
under the other ear. 'Do you remember, when we were children together,
you used to say that you would do anything for me?'
'Did I?'
'I remember once you cried because I was cross and wouldn't let you
kiss me.'
I didn't believe it at the time, and I don't believe it now. Sippy is
in many ways a good deal of a chump, but surely even at the age of ten
he cannot have been such a priceless ass as that. I think the girl
was lying, but that didn't make the position of affairs any better. I
edged away a couple of inches and sat staring before me, the old brow
beginning to get slightly bedewed.
And then suddenly--well, you know how it is, I mean. I suppose everyone
has had that ghastly feeling at one time or another of being urged by
some overwhelming force to do some absolutely blithering act. You get
it every now and then when you're in a crowded theatre, and something
seems to be egging you on to shout 'Fire!' and see what happens. Or
you're talking to someone and all at once you feel, 'Now, suppose I
suddenly biffed this bird in the eye!'
Well, what I'm driving at is this, at this juncture, with her shoulder
squashing against mine and her black hair tickling my nose, a perfectly
loony impulse came sweeping over me to kiss her.
'No, really?' I croaked.
'Have you forgotten?'
She lifted the old onion and her eyes looked straight into mine. I
could feel myself skidding. I shut my eyes. And then from the doorway
there spoke the most beautiful voice I had ever heard in my life:
'Give me that cat!'
I opened my eyes. There was good old Aunt Jane, that queen of her sex,
standing before me, glaring at me as if I were a vivisectionist and she
had surprised me in the middle of an experiment. How this pearl among
women had tracked me down I don't know, but there she stood, bless her
dear, intelligent old soul, like the rescue party in the last reel of a
motion picture.
I didn't wait. The spell was broken and I legged it. As I went, I heard
that lovely voice again.
'He shot arrows at my Tibby from a bow,' said this most deserving and
excellent octogenarian.
* * * * *
For the next few days all was peace. I saw comparatively little of
Heloise. I found the strategic value of that water-pipe outside my
window beyond praise. I seldom left the house now by any other route.
It seemed to me that, if only the luck held like this, I might after
all be able to stick this visit out for the full term of the sentence.