‘Quite.’
‘I don’t see any harm in wondering what Anatole was going to give us for dinner. Do you?’
‘Of course not. A mere ordinary tribute of respect to a great artist.’
‘Exactly.’
‘All the same –’
‘Well?’
‘I was only going to say that it seems a pity that the frail craft of love should come a stinker like this when a few manly words of contrition –’
He stared at me.
‘You aren’t suggesting that I should climb down?’
‘It would be the fine, big thing, old egg.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of climbing down.’
‘But, Tuppy –’
‘No. I wouldn’t do it.’
‘But you love her, don’t you?’
This touched the spot. He quivered noticeably, and his mouth twisted. Quite the tortured soul.
‘I’m not saying I don’t love the little blighter,’ he said, obviously moved. ‘I love her passionately. But that doesn’t alter the fact that I consider that what she needs most in this world is a swift kick in the pants.’
A Wooster could scarcely pass this. ‘Tuppy, old man!’
‘It’s no good saying “Tuppy, old man”.’
‘Well, I do say “Tuppy, old man”. Your tone shocks me. One raises the eyebrows. Where is the fine, old, chivalrous spirit of the Glossops?’
‘That’s all right about the fine, old, chivalrous spirit of the Glossops. Where is the sweet, gentle, womanly spirit of the Angelas? Telling a fellow he was getting a double chin!’
‘Did she do that?’
‘She did.’
‘Oh, well, girls will be girls. Forget it, Tuppy. Go to her and make it up.’
He shook his head.
‘No. It is too late. Remarks have been passed about my tummy which it is impossible to overlook.’
‘But, Tummy – Tuppy, I mean – be fair. You once told her her new hat made her look like a Pekingese.’
‘It did make her look like a Pekingese. That was not vulgar abuse. It was sound, constructive criticism, with no motive behind it but the kindly desire to keep her from making an exhibition of herself in public. Wantonly to accuse a man of puffing when he goes up a flight of stairs is something very different.’
I began to see that the situation would require all my address and ingenuity. If the wedding bells were ever to ring out in the little church of Market Snodsbury, Bertram had plainly got to put in some shrewdish work. I had gathered, during my conversation with Aunt Dahlia, that there had been a certain amount of frank speech between the two contracting parties, but I had not realized till now that matters had gone so far.
The pathos of the thing gave me the pip. Tuppy had admitted in so many words that love still animated the Glossop bosom, and I was convinced that, even after all that had occurred, Angela had not ceased to love him. At the moment, no doubt, she might be wishing that she could hit him with a bottle, but deep down in her I was prepared to bet that there still lingered all the old affection and tenderness. Only injured pride was keeping these two apart, and I felt that if Tuppy would make the first move, all would be well.
I had another whack at it.
‘She’s broken-hearted about this rift, Tuppy.’
‘How do you know? Have you seen her?’
‘No, but I’ll bet she is.’
‘She doesn’t look it.’
‘Wearing the mask, no doubt. Jeeves does that when I assert my authority.’
‘She wrinkles her nose at me as if I were a drain that had got out of order.’
‘Merely the mask. I feel convinced she loves you still, and that a kindly word from you is all that is required.’
I could see that this had moved him. He plainly wavered. He did a sort of twiddly on the turf with his foot. And, when he spoke, one spotted the tremolo in the voice:
‘You really think that?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘H’m.’
‘If you were to go to her –’
He shook his head.
‘I can’t do that. It would be fatal. Bing, instantly, would go my prestige. I know girls. Grovel, and the best of them get uppish.’ He mused. ‘The only way to work the thing would be by tipping her off in some indirect way that I am prepared to open negotiations. Should I sigh a bit when we meet, do you think?’
‘She would think you were puffing.’
That’s true.’
I lit another cigarette and gave my mind to the matter. And first crack out of the box, as is so often the way with the Woosters, I got an idea. I remembered the counsel I had given Gussie in the matter of the sausages and ham.
‘I’ve got it, Tuppy. There is one infallible method of indicating to a girl that you love her, and it works just as well when you’ve had a row and want to make it up. Don’t eat any dinner tonight. You can see how impressive that would be. She knows how devoted you are to food.’
He started violently.
‘I am not devoted to food!’
‘No, no.’
‘I am not devoted to food at all.’
‘Quite. All I meant –’
‘This rot about me being devoted to food,’ said Tuppy warmly, ‘has got to stop. I am young and healthy and have a good appetite, but that’s not the same as being devoted to food. I admire Anatole as a master of his craft, and am always willing to consider anything he may put before me, but when you say I am devoted to food –’
‘Quite, quite. All I meant was that if she sees you push away your dinner untasted, she will realize that your heart is aching, and will probably be the first to suggest blowing the all clear.’
Tuppy was frowning thoughtfully.
‘Push my dinner away, eh?’
‘Yes.’
‘Push away a dinner cooked by Anatole?’
‘Yes.’
‘Push it away untasted?’
‘Yes.’
‘Let us get this straight. Tonight, at dinner, when the butler offers me a ris de veau à la financiere, or whatever it may be, hot from Anatole’s hands, you wish me to push it away untasted?’
‘Yes.’
He chewed his lip. One could sense the struggle going on within. And then suddenly a sort of glow came into his face. The old martyrs probably used to look like that.
‘All right.’
‘You’ll do it?’
‘I will.’
‘Fine.’
‘Of course, it will be agony.’
I pointed out the silver lining.
‘Only for the moment. You could slip down tonight, after everyone is in bed, and raid the larder.’
He brightened.
‘That’s right. I could, couldn’t I?’
‘I expect there would be something cold there.’
‘There is something cold there,’ said Tuppy, with growing cheerfulness. ‘A steak-and-kidney pie. We had it for lunch today. One of Anatole’s ripest. The thing I admire about that man,’ said Tuppy reverently, ‘the thing that I admire so enormously about Anatole is that, though a Frenchman, he does not, like so many of these chefs, confine himself exclusively to French dishes, but is always willing and ready to weigh in with some good old simple English fare such as this steak-and-kidney pie to which I have alluded. A masterly pie, Bertie, and it wasn’t more than half finished. It will do me nicely.’
‘And at dinner you will push, as arranged?’
‘Absolutely as arranged.’
‘Fine.’
‘It’s an excellent idea. One of Jeeves’s best. You can tell him from me, when you see him, that I’m much obliged.’
The cigarette fell from my fingers. It was as though somebody had slapped Bertram Wooster across the face with a wet dishrag.
‘You aren’t suggesting that you think this scheme I have been sketching out is Jeeves’s?’
‘Of course it is. It’s no good trying to kid me, Bertie. You wouldn’t have thought of a wheeze like that in a mi
llion years.’
There was a pause. I drew myself up to my full height; then, seeing that he wasn’t looking at me, lowered myself again.
‘Come, Glossop,’ I said coldly, ‘we had better be going. It is time we were dressing for dinner.’
9
* * *
TUPPY’S FATHEADED WORDS were still rankling in my bosom as I went up to my room. They continued rankling as I shed the form-fitting, and had not ceased to rankle when, clad in the old dressing-gown, I made my way along the corridor to the salle de bain.
It is not too much to say that I was piqued to the tonsils.
I mean to say, one does not court praise. The adulation of the multitude means very little to one. But, all the same, when one has taken the trouble to whack out a highly juicy scheme to benefit an in-the-soup friend in his hour of travail, it’s pretty foul to find him giving the credit to one’s personal attendant, particularly if that personal attendant is a man who goes about the place not packing mess jackets.
But after I had been splashing about in the porcelain for a bit, composure began to return. I have always found that in moments of heart-bowed-downness there is nothing that calms the bruised spirit like a good go at the soap and water. I don’t say I actually sang in the tub, but there were times when it was a mere spin of the coin whether I would do so or not.
The spiritual anguish induced by that tactless speech had become noticeably lessened.
The discovery of a toy duck in the soap dish, presumably the property of some former juvenile visitor, contributed not a little to this new and happier frame of mind. What with one thing and another, I hadn’t played with toy ducks in my bath for years, and I found the novel experience most invigorating. For the benefit of those interested, I may mention that if you shove the thing under the surface with the sponge and then let it go, it shoots out of the water in a manner calculated to divert the most careworn. Ten minutes of this and I was enabled to return to the bed-chamber much more the old merry Bertram.
Jeeves was there, laying out the dinner disguise. He greeted the young master with his customary suavity.
‘Good evening, sir.’
I responded in the same affable key.
‘Good evening, Jeeves.’
‘I trust you had a pleasant drive, sir.’
‘Very pleasant, thank you, Jeeves. Hand me a sock or two, will you?’
He did so, and I commenced to don.
‘Well, Jeeves,’ I said, reaching for the underlinen, ‘here we are again at Brinkley Court in the county of Worcestershire.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘A nice mess things seem to have gone and got themselves into in this rustic joint.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘The rift between Tuppy Glossop and my cousin Angela would appear to be serious.’
‘Yes, sir. Opinion in the servants’ hall is inclined to take a grave view of the situation.’
‘And the thought that springs to your mind, no doubt, is that I shall have my work cut out to fix things up?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You are wrong, Jeeves. I have the thing well in hand.’
‘You surprise me, sir.’
‘I thought I should. Yes, Jeeves, I pondered on the matter most of the way down here, and with the happiest results. I have just been in conference with Mr Glossop, and everything is taped out.’
‘Indeed, sir? Might I inquire –’
‘You know my methods, Jeeves. Apply them. Have you,’ I asked, slipping into the shirt and starting to adjust the cravat, ‘been gnawing on the thing at all?’
‘Oh, yes, sir. I have always been much attached to Miss Angela, and I felt that it would afford me great pleasure were I to be able to be of service to her.’
‘A laudable sentiment. But I suppose you drew blank?’
‘No, sir. I was rewarded with an idea.’
‘What was it?’
‘It occurred to me that a reconciliation might be effected between Mr Glossop and Miss Angela by appealing to that instinct which prompts gentlemen in time of peril to hasten to the rescue of –’
I had to let go of the cravat in order to raise a hand. I was shocked.
‘Don’t tell me you were contemplating descending to that old he-saved-her-from-drowning gag? I am surprised, Jeeves. Surprised and pained. When I was discussing the matter with Aunt Dahlia on my arrival, she said in a sniffy sort of way that she supposed I was going to shove my cousin Angela into the lake and push Tuppy in to haul her out, and I let her see pretty clearly that I considered the suggestion an insult to my intelligence. And now, if your words have the meaning I read into them, you are mooting precisely the same drivelling scheme. Really, Jeeves!’
‘No, sir. Not that. But the thought did cross my mind, as I walked in the grounds and passed the building where the fire bell hangs, that a sudden alarm of fire in the night might result in Mr Glossop endeavouring to assist Miss Angela to safety.’
I shivered.
‘Rotten, Jeeves.’
‘Well, sir –’
‘No good. Not a bit like it.’
‘I fancy, sir –’
‘No, Jeeves. No more. Enough has been said. Let us drop the subj.’
I finished tying the tie in silence. My emotions were too deep for speech. I knew, of course, that this man had for the time being lost his grip, but I had never suspected that he had gone absolutely to pieces like this. Remembering some of the swift ones he had pulled in the past, I shrank with horror from the spectacle of his present ineptitude. Or is it ineptness? I mean this frightful disposition of his to stick straws in his hair and talk like a perfect ass. It was the old, old story, I supposed. A man’s brain whizzes along for years exceeding the speed limit, and something suddenly goes wrong with the steering gear and it skids and comes a smeller in the ditch.
‘A bit elaborate,’ I said, trying to put the thing in as kindly a light as possible. ‘Your old failing. You can see that it’s a bit elaborate?’
‘Possibly the plan I suggested might be considered open to that criticism, sir, but faute de mieux –’
‘I don’t get you, Jeeves.’
‘A French expression, sir, signifying “for want of anything better”.’
A moment before, I had been feeling for this wreck of a once fine thinker nothing but a gentle pity. These words jarred the Wooster pride, inducing asperity.
‘I understand perfectly well what faute de mieux means, Jeeves. I did not recently spend two months among our Gallic neighbours for nothing. Besides, I remember that one from school. What caused my bewilderment was that you should be employing the expression, well knowing that there is no bally faute de mieux about it at all. Where do you get that faute-de-mieux stuff? Didn’t I tell you I had everything taped out?’
‘Yes, sir, but –’
‘What do you mean – but?’
‘Well, sir –’
‘Push on, Jeeves. I am ready, even anxious, to hear your views.’
‘Well, sir, if I may take the liberty of reminding you of it, your plans in the past have not always been uniformly successful.’
There was a silence – rather a throbbing one – during which I put on my waistcoat in a marked manner. Not till I had got the buckle at the back satisfactorily adjusted did I speak.
‘It is true, Jeeves,’ I said formally, ‘that once or twice in the past I may have missed the bus. This, however, I attribute purely to bad luck.’
‘Indeed, sir?’
‘On the present occasion I shall not fail, and I’ll tell you why I shall not fail. Because my scheme is rooted in human nature.’
‘Indeed, sir?’
‘It is simple. Not elaborate. And, furthermore, based on the psychology of the individual.’
‘Indeed, sir?’
‘Jeeves,’ I said, ‘don’t keep saying “Indeed, sir?” No doubt nothing is further from your mind than to convey such a suggestion, but you have a way of stressing the “in” and then coming down with a t
hud on the “deed” which makes it virtually tantamount to “Oh, yeah?” Correct this, Jeeves.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘I tell you I have everything nicely lined up. Would you care to hear what steps I have taken?’
‘Very much, sir.’
‘Then listen. Tonight at dinner I have recommended Tuppy to lay off the food.’
‘Sir?’
‘Tut, Jeeves, surely you can follow the idea, even though it is one that would never have occurred to yourself. Have you forgotten that telegram I sent to Gussie Fink-Nottle, steering him away from the sausages and ham? This is the same thing. Pushing the food away untasted is a universally recognized sign of love. It cannot fail to bring home the gravy. You must see that?’
‘Well, sir –’
I frowned.
‘I don’t want to seem always to be criticizing your methods of voice production, Jeeves,’ I said, ‘but I must inform you that that “Well, sir” of yours is in many respects fully as unpleasant as your “Indeed, sir?” Like the latter, it seems to be tinged with a definite scepticism. It suggests a lack of faith in my vision. The impression I retain after hearing you shoot it at me a couple of times is that you consider me to be talking through the back of my neck, and that only a feudal sense of what is fitting restrains you from substituting for it the words “Says you!”’
‘Oh, no, sir.’
‘Well, that’s what it sounds like. Why don’t you think this scheme will work?’
‘I fear Miss Angela will merely attribute Mr Glossop’s abstinence to indigestion, sir.’
I hadn’t thought of that, and I must confess it shook me for a moment. Then I recovered myself. I saw what was at the bottom of all this. Mortified by the consciousness of his own ineptness – or ineptitude – the fellow was simply trying to hamper and obstruct. I decided to knock the stuffing out of him without further preamble.
‘Oh?’ I said. ‘You do, do you? Well, be that as it may, it doesn’t alter the fact that you’ve put out the wrong coat. Be so good, Jeeves,’ I said, indicating with a gesture the gent’s ordinary dinner jacket, or smoking, as we call it on the Côte d’Azur, which was suspended from the hanger on the knob of the wardrobe, ‘as to shove that bally black thing in the cupboard and bring out my white mess jacket with the brass buttons.’
The Jeeves Omnibus Vol. 2: Right Ho, Jeeves / Joy in the Morning / Carry On, Jeeves Page 7
