Aunt Dahlia laughed. Rather a nasty laugh. Scorn in its timbre, or so it seemed to me.
‘I shouldn’t worry,’ she said. ‘You don’t suppose for a moment that Jeeves will sanction the match?’
I was stung.
‘Do you imply, Aunt Dahlia,’ I said – and I can’t remember if I rapped the table with the handle of my fork or not, but I rather think I did – ‘that I allow Jeeves to boss me to the extent of stopping me marrying somebody I want to marry?’
‘Well, he stopped you wearing a moustache, didn’t he? And purple socks. And soft-fronted shirts with dress-clothes.’
‘That is a different matter altogether.’
‘Well, I’m prepared to make a small bet with you, Bertie. Jeeves will stop this match.’
‘What absolute rot!’
‘And if he doesn’t like that portrait, he will get rid of it.’
‘I never heard such dashed nonsense in my life.’
‘And, finally, you wretched, pie-faced wambler, he will present you on board my yacht at the appointed hour. I don’t know how he will do it, but you will be there, all complete with yachting-cap and spare pair of socks.’
‘Let us change the subject, Aunt Dahlia,’ I said coldly.
* * *
Being a good deal stirred up by the attitude of the flesh-and-blood at the luncheon-table, I had to go for a bit of a walk in the Park after leaving, to soothe the nervous system. By about four-thirty the ganglions had ceased to vibrate, and I returned to the flat. Jeeves was in the sitting-room, looking at the portrait.
I felt a trifle embarrassed in the man’s presence, because just before leaving I had informed him of my intention to scratch the yacht-trip, and he had taken it on the chin a bit. You see, he had been looking forward to it rather. From the moment I had accepted the invitation, there had been a sort of nautical glitter in his eye, and I’m not sure I hadn’t heard him trolling Chanties in the kitchen. I think some ancestor of his must have been one of Nelson’s tars or something, for he has always had the urge of the salt sea in his blood. I have noticed him on liners, when we were going to America, striding the deck with a sailorly roll and giving the distinct impression of being just about to heave the main-brace or splice the binnacle.
So, though I had explained my reasons, taking the man fully into my confidence and concealing nothing, I knew that he was distinctly peeved; and my first act, on entering, was to do the cheery a bit. I joined him in front of the portrait.
‘Looks good, Jeeves, what?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Nothing like a spot of art for brightening the home.’
‘No, sir.’
‘Seems to lend the room a certain – what shall I say—’
‘Yes, sir.’
The responses were all right, but his manner was far from hearty, and I decided to tackle him squarely. I mean, dash it. I mean, I don’t know if you have ever had your portrait painted, but if you have you will understand my feelings. The spectacle of one’s portrait hanging on the wall creates in one a sort of paternal fondness for the thing: and what you demand from the outside public is approval and enthusiasm – not the curling lip, the twitching nostril, and the kind of supercilious look which you see in the eye of a dead mackerel. Especially is this so when the artist is a girl for whom you have conceived sentiments deeper and warmer than those of ordinary friendship.
‘Jeeves,’ I said, ‘you don’t like this spot of art.’
‘Oh, yes, sir.’
‘No. Subterfuge is useless. I can read you like a book. For some reason this spot of art fails to appeal to you. What do you object to about it?’
‘Is not the colour-scheme a trifle bright, sir?’
‘I had not observed it, Jeeves. Anything else?’
‘Well, in my opinion, sir, Miss Pendlebury has given you a somewhat too hungry expression.’
‘Hungry?’
‘A little like that of a dog regarding a distant bone, sir.’
I checked the fellow.
‘There is no resemblance whatever, Jeeves, to a dog regarding a distant bone. The look to which you allude is wistful and denotes Soul.’
‘I see, sir.’
I proceeded to another subject.
‘Miss Pendlebury said she might look in this afternoon to inspect the portrait. Did she turn up?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘But has left?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You mean she’s gone, what?’
‘Precisely, sir.’
‘She didn’t say anything about coming back, I suppose?’
‘No, sir. I received the impression that it was not Miss Pendlebury’s intention to return. She was a little upset, sir, and expressed a desire to go to her studio and rest.’
‘Upset? What was she upset about?’
‘The accident, sir.’
I didn’t actually clutch the brow, but I did a bit of mental brow-clutching, as it were.
‘Don’t tell me she had an accident!’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘What sort of accident?’
‘Automobile, sir.’
‘Was she hurt?’
‘No, sir. Only the gentleman.’
‘What gentleman?’
‘Miss Pendlebury had the misfortune to run over a gentleman in her car almost immediately opposite this building. He sustained a slight fracture of the leg.’
‘Too bad! But Miss Pendlebury is all right?’
‘Physically, sir, her condition appeared to be satisfactory. She was suffering a certain distress of mind.’
‘Of course, with her beautiful, sympathetic nature. Naturally. It’s a hard world for a girl, Jeeves, with fellows flinging themselves under the wheels of her car in one long, unending stream. It must have been a great shock to her. What became of the chump?’
‘The gentleman, sir?’
‘Yes.’
‘He is in your spare bedroom, sir.’
‘What!’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘In my spare bedroom?’
‘Yes, sir. It was Miss Pendlebury’s desire that he should be taken there. She instructed me to telegraph to the gentleman’s sister, sir, who is in Paris, advising her of the accident. I also summoned a medical man, who gave it as his opinion that the patient should remain for the time being in statu quo.’
‘You mean, the corpse is on the premises for an indefinite visit?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Jeeves, this is a bit thick!’
‘Yes, sir.’
And I meant it, dash it. I mean to say, a girl can be pretty heftily divine and ensnare the heart and what not, but she’s no right to turn a fellow’s flat into a morgue. I’m bound to say that for a moment passion ebbed a trifle.
‘Well, I suppose I’d better go and introduce myself to the blighter. After all, I am his host. Has he a name?’
‘Mr Pim, sir.’
‘Pim!’
‘Yes, sir. And the young lady addressed him as Lucius. It was owing to the fact that he was on his way here to examine the portrait which she had painted that Mr Pim happened to be in the roadway at the moment when Miss Pendlebury turned the corner.’
I headed for the spare bedroom. I was perturbed to a degree. I don’t know if you have ever loved and been handicapped in your wooing by a wavy-haired rival, but one of the things you don’t want in such circs is the rival parking himself on the premises with a broken leg. Apart from anything else, the advantage the position gives him is obviously terrific. There he is, sitting up and toying with a grape and looking pale and interesting, the object of the girl’s pity and concern, and where do you get off, bounding about the place in morning costume and spats and with the rude flush of health on the cheek? It seemed to me that things were beginning to look pretty mouldy.
I found Lucius Pim lying in bed, draped in a suit of my pyjamas, smoking one of my cigarettes, and reading a detective story. He waved the cigarette at me in what I considered a dashed p
atronizing manner.
‘Ah, Wooster!’ he said.
‘Not so much of the “Ah, Wooster!”’ I replied brusquely. ‘How soon can you be moved?’
‘In a week or so, I fancy.’
‘In a week!’
‘Or so. For the moment, the doctor insists on perfect quiet and repose. So forgive me, old man, for asking you not to raise your voice. A hushed whisper is the stuff to give the troops. And now, Wooster, about this accident. We must come to an understanding.’
‘Are you sure you can’t be moved?’
‘Quite. The doctor said so.’
‘I think we ought to get a second opinion.’
‘Useless, my dear fellow. He was most emphatic, and evidently a man who knew his job. Don’t worry about my not being comfortable here. I shall be quite all right. I like this bed. And now, to return to the subject of this accident. My sister will be arriving to-morrow. She will be greatly upset. I am her favourite brother.’
‘You are?’
‘I am.’
‘How many of you are there?’
‘Six.’
‘And you’re her favourite?’
‘I am.’
It seemed to me that the other five must be pretty fairly sub-human, but I didn’t say so. We Woosters can curb the tongue.
‘She married a bird named Slingsby. Slingsby’s Superb Soups. He rolls in money. But do you think I can get him to lend a trifle from time to time to a needy brother-in-law?’ said Lucius Pim bitterly. ‘No, sir! However, that is neither here nor there. The point is that my sister loves me devotedly: and, this being the case, she might try to prosecute and persecute and generally bite pieces out of poor little Gwladys if she knew that it was she who was driving the car that laid me out. She must never know, Wooster. I appeal to you as a man of honour to keep your mouth shut.’
‘Naturally.’
‘I’m glad you grasp the point so readily, Wooster. You are not the fool people take you for.’
‘Who takes me for a fool?’
The Pim raised his eyebrows slightly.
‘Don’t people?’ he said. ‘Well, well. Anyway, that’s settled. Unless I can think of something better I shall tell my sister that I was knocked down by a car which drove on without stopping and I didn’t get its number. And now perhaps you had better leave me. The doctor made a point of quiet and repose. Moreover, I want to go on with this story. The villain has just dropped a cobra down the heroine’s chimney, and I must be at her side. It is impossible not to be thrilled by Edgar Wallace. I’ll ring if I want anything.’
I headed for the sitting-room. I found Jeeves there, staring at the portrait in rather a marked manner, as if it hurt him.
‘Jeeves,’ I said, ‘Mr Pim appears to be a fixture.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘For the nonce, at any rate. And to-morrow we shall have his sister, Mrs Slingsby, of Slingsby’s Superb Soups, in our midst.’
‘Yes, sir. I telegraphed to Mrs Slingsby shortly before four. Assuming her to have been at her hotel in Paris at the moment of the telegram’s delivery, she will no doubt take a boat early to-morrow afternoon, reaching Dover – or, should she prefer the alternative route, Folkestone – in time to begin the railway journey at an hour which will enable her to arrive in London at about seven. She will possibly proceed first to her London residence—’
‘Yes, Jeeves,’ I said, ‘yes. A gripping story, full of action and human interest. You must have it set to music some time and sing it. Meanwhile, get this into your head. It is imperative that Mrs Slingsby does not learn that it was Miss Pendlebury who broke her brother in two places. I shall require you, therefore, to approach Mr Pim before she arrives, ascertain exactly what tale he intends to tell, and be prepared to back it up in every particular.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘And now, Jeeves, what of Miss Pendlebury?’
‘Sir?’
‘She’s sure to call to make enquiries.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Well, she mustn’t find me here. You know all about women, Jeeves?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then tell me this. Am I not right in supposing that if Miss Pendlebury is in a position to go into the sick-room, take a long look at the interesting invalid, and then pop out, with the memory of that look fresh in her mind, and get a square sight of me lounging about in sponge-bag trousers, she will draw damaging comparisons? You see what I mean? Look on this picture and on that – the one romantic, the other not … Eh?’
‘Very true, sir. It is a point which I had intended to bring to your attention. An invalid undoubtedly exercises a powerful appeal to the motherliness which exists in every woman’s heart, sir. Invalids seem to stir their deepest feelings. The poet Scott has put the matter neatly in the lines – “Oh, Woman in our hours of ease uncertain, coy, and hard to please … When pain and anguish rack the brow—”’
I held up a hand.
‘At some other time, Jeeves,’ I said, ‘I shall be delighted to hear you say your piece, but just now I am not in the mood. The position being as I have outlined, I propose to clear out early to-morrow morning and not to reappear until nightfall. I shall take the car and dash down to Brighton for the day.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘It is better so, is it not, Jeeves?’
‘Indubitably, sir.’
‘I think so, too. The sea breezes will tone up my system, which sadly needs a dollop of toning. I leave you in charge of the old home.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘Convey my regrets and sympathy to Miss Pendlebury and tell her I have been called away on business.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Should the Slingsby require refreshment, feed her in moderation.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘And, in poisoning Mr Pim’s soup, don’t use arsenic, which is readily detected. Go to a good chemist and get something that leaves no traces.’
I sighed, and cocked an eye at the portrait.
‘All this is very wonky, Jeeves.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘When that portrait was painted, I was a happy man.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Ah, well, Jeeves!’
‘Very true, sir.’
And we left it at that.
It was lateish when I got back on the following evening. What with a bit of ozone-sniffing, a good dinner, and a nice run home in the moonlight with the old car going as sweet as a nut, I was feeling in pretty good shape once more. In fact, coming through Purley, I went so far as to sing a trifle. The spirit of the Woosters is a buoyant spirit, and optimism had begun to reign again in the W. bosom.
The way I looked at it was, I saw I had been mistaken in assuming that a girl must necessarily love a fellow just because he has broken a leg. At first, no doubt, Gwladys Pendlebury would feel strangely drawn to the Pim when she saw him lying there a more or less total loss. But it would not be long before other reflections crept in. She would ask herself if she were wise in trusting her life’s happiness to a man who hadn’t enough sense to leap out of the way when he saw a car coming. She would tell herself that, if this sort of thing had happened once, who knew that it might not go on happening again and again all down the long years. And she would recoil from a married life which consisted entirely of going to hospitals and taking her husband fruit. She would realize how much better off she would be, teamed up with a fellow like Bertram Wooster, who, whatever his faults, at least walked on the pavement and looked up and down a street before he crossed it.
It was in excellent spirits, accordingly, that I put the car in the garage, and it was with a merry Tra-la on my lips that I let myself into the flat as Big Ben began to strike eleven. I rang the bell and presently, as if he had divined my wishes, Jeeves came in with siphon and decanter.
‘Home again, Jeeves,’ I said, mixing a spot.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘What has been happening in my absence? Did Miss Pendlebury call?
’
‘Yes, sir. At about two o’clock.’
‘And left?’
‘At about six, sir.’
I didn’t like this so much. A four-hour visit struck me as a bit sinister. However, there was nothing to be done about it.
‘And Mrs Slingsby?’
‘She arrived shortly after eight and left at ten, sir.’
‘Ah? Agitated?’
‘Yes, sir. Particularly when she left. She was very desirous of seeing you, sir.’
‘Seeing me?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Wanted to thank me brokenly, I suppose, for so courteously allowing her favourite brother a place to have his game legs in. Eh?’
‘Possibly, sir. On the other hand, she alluded to you in terms suggestive of disapprobation, sir.’
‘She – what?’
‘“Feckless idiot” was one of the expressions she employed, sir.’
‘Feckless idiot?’
‘Yes, sir.’
I couldn’t make it out. I simply couldn’t see what the woman had based her judgement on. My Aunt Agatha has frequently said that sort of thing about me, but she has known me from a boy.
‘I must look into this, Jeeves. Is Mr Pim asleep?’
‘No, sir. He rang the bell a moment ago to enquire if we had not a better brand of cigarette in the flat.’
‘He did, did he?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘The accident doesn’t seem to have affected his nerve.’
‘No, sir.’
I found Lucius Pim sitting propped up among the pillows, reading his detective story.
‘Ah, Wooster,’ he said. ‘Welcome home. I say, in case you were worrying, it’s all right about that cobra. The hero had got at it without the villain’s knowledge and extracted its poison-fangs. With the result that when it fell down the chimney and started trying to bite the heroine its efforts were null and void. I doubt if a cobra has ever felt so silly.’
‘Never mind about cobras.’
‘It’s no good saying “Never mind about cobras”,’ said Lucius Pim in a gentle, rebuking sort of voice. ‘You’ve jolly well got to mind about cobras, if they haven’t had their poison-fangs extracted. Ask anyone. By the way, my sister looked in. She wants to have a word with you.’