Part 18

"She got a phone call from London from somebody who said he had located an Irish water spaniel, and up she popped in her car, leaving me flat. I met her just now outside her house, and she told me. And all she could think of was that she was as sore as a sun-burnt neck because she had had her trip for nothing. Apparently it wasn't an Irish water spaniel at all. Just an ordinary English water spaniel.

"And to think I fancied I loved a girl like that! A nice life partner she would make! When pain and anguish wring the brow, a ministering angel, thou--I don't think! Why, if a man married a girl like that and happened to get stricken by some dangerous illness, would she smooth his pillow and press cooling drinks on him? Not a chance! She'd be off somewhere trying to buy Siberian eel-hounds. I'm through with women."

I saw that the moment had come to put in a word for the old firm.

"My cousin Angela's not a bad sort, Tuppy," I said, in a grave, elder-brotherly kind of way. "Not altogether a bad egg, Angela, if you look at her squarely. I had always been hoping that she and you.... And I know my aunt Dahlia felt the same."

Tuppy's bitter sneer cracked the topsoil.

"Angela!" he woofed. "Don't talk to me about Angela. Angela's a rag and a bone and a hank of hair and an A 1 scourge, if you want to know. She gave me the push. Yes, she did. Simply because I had the manly courage to speak out candidly on the subject of that ghastly lid she was chump enough to buy. It made her look like a Peke, and I told her it made her look like a Peke. And instead of admiring me for my fearless honesty she bunged me out on my ear. Faugh!"

"She did?" I said.

"She jolly well did," said young Tuppy. "At four-sixteen P. M. on Tuesday the seventeenth."

"By the way, old man," I said. "I've found that telegram."

"What telegram?"

"The one I told you about."

"Oh, that one?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"Well, let's have a look at the beastly thing."

I handed it over, watching him narrowly. And suddenly, as he read, I saw him wabble. Stirred to the core. Obviously.

"Anything important?" I said.

"Bertie," said young Tuppy, in a voice that quivered with strong emotion, "my recent remarks _re_ your cousin Angela. Wash them out. Cancel them. Look on them as not spoken. I tell you, Bertie, Angela's all right. An angel in human shape, and that's official. Bertie, I've got to get up to London. She's ill."

"Ill?"

"High fever and delirium. This wire's from your aunt. She wants me to come up to London at once. Can I borrow your car?"

"Of course."

"Thanks," said Tuppy, and dashed out. He had been gone only about a second when Jeeves came in with the restorative.

"Mr. Glossop's gone, Jeeves."

"Indeed, sir?"

"To London."

"Yes, sir?"

"In my car. To see my cousin Angela. The sun is once more shining, Jeeves."

"Extremely gratifying, sir."

I gave him the eye.

"Was it you, Jeeves, who phoned to Miss What's-her-bally-name about the alleged water spaniel?"

"Yes, sir."

"I thought as much."

"Yes, sir?"

"Yes, Jeeves, the moment Mr. Glossop told me that a Mysterious Voice had phoned on the subject of Irish water spaniels, I thought as much. I recognized your touch. I read your motives like an open book. You knew she would come buzzing up."

"Yes, sir."

"And you knew how Tuppy would react. If there's one thing that gives a jousting knight the pip, it is to have his audience walk out on him."

"Yes, sir."

"But Jeeves."

"Sir?"

"There's just one point. What will Mr. Glossop say when he finds my cousin Angela full of beans and not delirious?"

"The point had not escaped me, sir. I took the liberty of ringing Mrs. Travers up on the telephone and explaining the circumstances. All will be in readiness for Mr. Glossop's arrival."

"Jeeves," I said, "you think of everything."

"Thank you, sir. In Mr. Glossop's absence would you care to drink this whisky-and-soda?"

I shook the head.

"No, Jeeves, there is only one man who must do that. It is you. If ever anyone earned a refreshing snort, you are he. Pour it out, Jeeves, and shove it down."

"Thank you very much, sir."

"Cheerio, Jeeves!"

"Cheerio, sir, if I may use the expression."

THE END

* * * * *

BOOKS BY

P. G. WODEHOUSE

A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS BILL THE CONQUEROR CARRY ON, JEEVES DIVOTS FISH PREFERRED GOLF WITHOUT TEARS HE RATHER ENJOYED IT INDISCRETIONS OF ARCHIE JEEVES LEAVE IT TO PSMITH MEET MR. MULLINER MONEY FOR NOTHING MOSTLY SALLY MR. MULLINER SPEAKING SAM IN THE SUBURBS THE LITTLE WARRIOR THE SMALL BACHELOR THREE MEN AND A MAID VERY GOOD, JEEVES