The Greatest Works of P. G. Wodehouse. P. G. Wodehouse
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modesty—of not wishing . . .”
“I shall insist!”
“Thank you, madam. I am obliged. You will not mention my share in the matter? Mr. Wooster might think that I had exceeded my duties.”
I drove round to the stables and halted the car in the yard. As I got out, I looked at it somewhat intently. It was a good car and appeared to be in excellent condition, but somehow I seemed to feel that something was going to go wrong with it— something pretty serious—something that wouldn’t be able to be put right again for at least a couple of hours.
One gets these presentiments . . .
It may have been some half hour later that the guv’nor came into the stable yard as I was leaning against the car and smoking a quiet cigarette.
“No, don’t chuck it away, Jeeves.” he said as I withdrew the cigarette from my mouth. “As a matter of fact, I’ve come to touch you for a smoke. Got one to spare?”
“Only gaspers, I fear, sir.”
“They’ll do,” responded the guv’nor with no little eagerness. I observed that his manner was a trifle fatigued and his eye somewhat wild. “It’s a rummy thing, Jeeves; I seem to have lost my cigarette case. Can’t find it anywhere.”
“I am sorry to hear that, sir. It is not in the car.”
“No? Must have dropped it somewhere, then.” He drew at his gasper with relish. “Jolly creatures, small girls, Jeeves,” he remarked after a pause.
“Extremely so, sir.”
“Of course I can imagine some fellows finding them a bit exhausting in—er——”
“En masse, sir?”
“That’s the word. A bit exhausting en masse.”
“I must confess, sir, that that is how they used to strike me. In my younger days, at the outset of my career, sir, I was at one time page boy in a school for young ladies.”
“No, really? I never knew that before. I say, Jeeves—er—did the—er—dear little souls giggle much in your day?”
“Practically without cessation, sir.”
“Makes a fellow feel a bit of an ass, what? I shouldn’t wonder if they usedn’t to stare at you from time to time, too, eh?”
“At the school where I was employed, sir, the young ladies had a regular game which they used to play when a male visitor arrived. They would stare fixedly at him and giggle, and there was a small prize for the one who made him blush first.”
“Oh no, I say, Jeeves, not really?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’d no idea small girls were such demons.”
“More deadly than the male, sir.”
The guv’nor passed a handkerchief over his brow.
“Well, we’re going to have tea in a few minutes, Jeeves. I expect I shall feel better after tea.”
“We will hope so, sir.”
But I was by no means sanguine.
I had an agreeable tea in the kitchen. The buttered toast was good and the maids nice girls, though with little conversation. The parlormaid, who joined us towards the end of the meal after performing her duties in the school dining room, reported that the guv’nor was sticking it pluckily but seemed feverish. I went back to the stable yard, and I was just giving the car another look-over when the small Mainwaring child appeared.
“Oh, I say,” she said, “will you give this to Mr. Wooster when you see him.” She held out the guv’nor’s cigarette case. “He must have dropped it somewhere. I say,” she proceeded, “it’s an awful lark. He’s going to give a lecture to the school.”
“Indeed, miss?”
“We love it when there are lectures. We sit and stare at the poor dears and try to make them dry up. There was a man last term who got hiccoughs. Oh, do you think Mr. Wooster will get hiccoughs?”
“We can but hope for the best, miss.”
“It would be such a lark, wouldn’t it!”
“Highly enjoyable, miss.”
“Well, I must be getting back. I want to get a front seat.” And she scampered off. An engaging child. Full of spirits.
She had hardly gone when there was an agitated noise, and round the corner came the guv’nor. Perturbed. Deeply so.
“Jeeves!”
“Sir?”
“Start the car!”
“Sir?”
“I’m off!”
“Sir?”
The guv’nor danced a few steps.
“Don’t stand there saying ‘Sir?’ I tell you I’m off. Bally off! There’s not a moment to waste. The situation’s desperate. Dash it, Jeeves, do you know what’s happened? The Tomlinson female has just sprung it on me that I’m expected to make a speech to the girls! Got to stand up there in front of the whole dashed collection and talk! I can just see myself! Get that car going, Jeeves, dash it all. A little speed, a little speed!”
“Impossible, I fear, sir. The car is out of order.”
The guv’nor gaped at me. Very glassily he gaped.
“Out of order!”
“Yes, sir. Something is wrong. Trivial, perhaps, but possibly a matter of some little time to repair.” The guv’nor being one of those easy going young gentlemen who’ll drive a car but never take the trouble to learn anything about its mechanism, I felt justified in becoming technical. “I think it is the differential gear, sir. Either that or the exhaust.”
I’m fond of the guv’nor, and I admit I came very near to melting as I looked at his face. He was staring at me in a sort of dumb despair that would have touched anybody.
“Then I’m sunk! Or”—a slight gleam of hope flickered across his drawn features—“do you think I could sneak out and leg it across country, Jeeves?”
“Too late, I fear, sir.” I indicated with a slight gesture the approaching figure of Miss Tomlinson, who was advancing with a serene determination in his immediate rear.
Be bright and amusing“Ah, there you are, Mr. Wooster.”
The guv’nor smiled a sickly smile.
“Yes—er—here I am!”
“We are all waiting for you in the large schoolroom.”
“But, I say, look here,” said the guv’nor, “I—I don’t know a bit what to talk about.”
“Why, anything, Mr. Wooster. Anything that comes into your head. Be bright,” said Miss Tomlinson. “Bright and amusing.”
“Oh, bright and amusing?”
“Possibly tell them a few entertaining stories. But at the same time do not neglect the graver note. Remember that my girls are on the threshold of life and will be eager to hear something brave and helpful and stimulating—something which they can remember in after years. But of course you know the sort of thing, Mr. Wooster. Come. The young people are waiting.”
I have spoken earlier of resource and the part it plays in the life of a gentleman’s personal gentleman. It is a quality peculiarly necessary if one is to share in scenes not primarily designed for one’s cooperation. So much that is interesting in life goes on apart behind closed doors that your gentleman’s gentleman, if he is not to remain hopelessly behind the march of events, should exercise his wits in order to enable himself to be—if not a spectator—at