Jeeves Stories, P. G. Wodehouse [best ereader for epub .TXT] 📗

rather pally.”

“No longer. Will you credit it that she positively refuses to let me have that article⁠—”

“What!”

“⁠—purely and simply on account of some fancied grievance she thinks she has against me because her cook left her and came to me.”

I couldn’t follow this at all.

“Anatole left her?” I said. “But what about the parlourmaid?”

“Pull yourself together, Bertie. You’re babbling. What do you mean?”

“Why, I understood⁠—”

“I’ll bet you never understood anything in your life.” She laid down her empty glass. “Well, that’s done!” she said, with relief. “Thank goodness, I’ll be able to watch Tom drinking his in a few minutes. It’s the only thing that enables me to bear up. Poor old chap, he does hate it so! But I cheer him by telling him it’s going to put him in shape for Anatole’s cooking. And that, Bertie, is something worth going into training for. A master of his art, that man. Sometimes I’m not altogether surprised that Mrs. Little made such a fuss when he went. But, really, you know, she ought not to mix sentiment with business. She has no right to refuse to let me have that article just because of a private difference. Well, she jolly well can’t use it anywhere else, because it was my idea and I have witnesses to prove it. If she tries to sell it to another paper, I’ll sue her. And, talking of sewers, it’s high time Tom was here to drink his sulphur-water.”

“But look here⁠—”

“Oh, by the way, Bertie,” said Aunt Dahlia, “I withdraw any harsh expressions I may have used about your man Jeeves. A most capable feller!”

“Jeeves?”

“Yes, he attended to the negotiations. And very well he did it, too. And he hasn’t lost by it, you can bet. I saw to that. I’m grateful to him. Why, if Tom gives up a couple of thousand now, practically without a murmur, the imagination reels at what he’ll do with Anatole cooking regularly for him. He’ll be signing cheques in his sleep.”

I got up. Aunt Dahlia pleaded with me to stick around and watch Uncle Tom in action, claiming it to be a sight nobody should miss, but I couldn’t wait. I rushed up the hill, left a farewell note for Uncle George, and caught the next train for London.

“Jeeves,” I said, when I had washed off the stains of travel, “tell me frankly all about it. Be as frank as Lady Bablockhythe.”

“Sir?”

“Never mind if you’ve not heard of her. Tell me how you worked this binge. The last I heard was that Anatole loved that parlourmaid⁠—goodness knows why!⁠—so much that he refused to leave her. Well, then?”

“I was somewhat baffled for awhile, I must confess, sir. Then I was materially assisted by a fortunate discovery.”

“What was that?”

“I chanced to be chatting with Mrs. Travers’s housemaid, sir, and, remembering that Mrs. Little was anxious to obtain a domestic of that description, I asked her if she would consent to leave Mrs. Travers and go at an advanced wage to Mrs. Little. To this she assented, and I saw Mrs. Little and arranged the matter.”

“Well? What was the fortunate discovery?”

“That the girl, in a previous situation some little time back, had been a colleague of Anatole, sir. And Anatole, as is the too frequent practice of these Frenchmen, had made love to her. In fact, they were, so I understood it, sir, formally affianced until Anatole disappeared one morning, leaving no address, and passed out of the poor girl’s life. You will readily appreciate that this discovery simplified matters considerably. The girl no longer had any affection for Anatole, but the prospect of being under the same roof with two young persons, both of whom he had led to assume⁠—”

“Great Scott! Yes, I see! It was rather like putting in a ferret to start a rabbit.”

“The principle was much the same, sir. Anatole was out of the house and in Mrs. Travers’s service within half an hour of the receipt of the information that the young person was about to arrive. A volatile man, sir. Like so many of these Frenchmen.”

“Jeeves,” I said, “this is genius of a high order.”

“It is very good of you to say so, sir.”

“What did Mr. Little say about it?”

“He appeared gratified, sir.”

“To go into sordid figures, did he⁠—”

“Yes, sir. Twenty pounds. Having been fortunate in his selections at Hurst Park on the previous Saturday.”

“My aunt told me that she⁠—”

“Yes, sir. Most generous. Twenty-five pounds.”

“Good Lord, Jeeves! You’ve been coining the stuff!”

“I have added appreciably to my savings, yes, sir. Mrs. Little was good enough to present me with ten pounds for finding her such a satisfactory housemaid. And then there was Mr. Travers⁠—”

“Uncle Thomas?”

“Yes, sir. He also behaved most handsomely, quite independently of Mrs. Travers. Another twenty-five pounds. And Mr. George Travers⁠—”

“Don’t tell me that Uncle George gave you something, too! What on earth for?”

“Well, really, sir, I do not quite understand myself. But I received a cheque for ten pounds from him. He seemed to be under the impression that I had been in some way responsible for your joining him at Harrogate, sir.”

I gaped at the fellow.

“Well, everybody seems to be doing it,” I said, “so I suppose I had better make the thing unanimous. Here’s a fiver.”

“Why, thank you, sir. This is extremely⁠—”

“It won’t seem much compared with these vast sums you’ve been acquiring.”

“Oh, I assure you, sir.”

“And I don’t know why I’m giving it to you.”

“No, sir.”

“Still, there it is.”

“Thank you very much, sir.”

I got up.

“It’s pretty late,” I said, “but I think I’ll dress and go out and have a bite somewhere. I feel like having a whirl of some kind after two weeks at Harrogate.”

“Yes, sir. I will unpack your clothes.”

“Oh, Jeeves,” I said, “did Peabody and Simms send those soft silk shirts?”

“Yes, sir. I sent them back.”

“Sent them back!”

“Yes, sir.”

I eyed him for a moment. But I mean to say. I mean, what’s the use?

“Oh, all right,” I said. “Then lay out one of the gents’ stiff-bosomed.”

“Very good, sir,” said Jeeves.

Bertie Changes His Mind

It