Pelham Wodehouse - Spring Fever

"Oh, Shorty, do you think he's hurt?"

Lord Shortlands declined to be drawn into a discussion of Mike's injuries. He liked Mike, and in normal circumstances would have been the first to sympathize, but there had just come to him the stimulating thought that, even after Augustus Robb had had his fill, there must still be quite a bit of the right stuff in his room, and he yearned for it as the hart yearns for the waterbrooks. With the golden prospect of a couple of quick ones before him, it is difficult for an elderly gentleman with high blood pressure, who has been through what the fifth Earl of Shortlands had so recently been through, to allow his mind to dwell on the black eyes of young men who are more acquaintances than friends.

"Good night," he said, and left them.

Augustus Robb continued to suffer the pangs of remorse.

"No, not for a thousand million pounds would I 'ave 'ad a thing like that 'appen," he said regretfully. "When I think of all the blokes there are that I'd enjoy dotting in the eye, it do seem a bit 'ard that it 'ad to be Mr. Cardinal who copped it. A gentleman that I 'ave the highest respect for."

Terry turned on him like a leopardess.

"You might have killed him!"

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that, ducky," Augustus Robb demurred. "Just a simple slosh in the eye, such as so often occurs. 'Owever, I'm glad to see you takin' it to 'eart so much, because it shows that love has awakened in your bosom."

Terry's indignation had waned. Her sense of humour was seldom dormant for long.

"Does it, Mr. Robb?"

"Sure sign, ducky. You've been acting silly, trying to 'arden your heart to Mr. Cardinal like Pharaoh in the Good Book when all those frogs come along." He raised the creme de menthe to his lips and lowered it disappointedly. " 'Ullo, none left."

"What a shame."

"Peppermint," said Augustus Robb, sniffing. "Takes me back, that does. Years ago, before you were born or thought of, my old uncle Fred—"

"Yes, you told me."

"Did I? Ho. Well, what was we talking about?"

"Frogs."

"We wasn't, neither. I simply 'appened to mention frogs in passing, like. We was talking about 'ardening 'earts, and I was saying that love had awakened in your bosom. And 'igh time, too. Why don't you go after Mr. Cardinal and give him a nice big kiss?"

"That would be a good idea, you think?"

"Only possible course to pursue. He loves you, ducky."

"What a lot you seem to know about it all. Did he confide in you? Oh, I was forgetting. You read that letter of his."

"That's right. Found it lying on his desk."

"Do you always read people's private letters?"

"Why, yus, when I get the chanst. I like to keep abreast of what's going on around me. And I take a particular interest in Mr. Cardinal's affairs. There's a gentleman that any young woman ought to be proud to hitch up with. A fine feller, Mr. Cardinal is. What they call in America an ace."

"Did you like America, Mr. Robb?"

"Why, yus, America's all right. Ever tasted corn-beef hash?"

"No."

"You get that in America. And waffles."

"Tell me all about waffles."

"I won't tell you all about waffles. I'm telling you about Mr. Cardinal. The whitest man I know."

"Do you know many white men?"

Augustus Robb fell into a brief reverie.

"And planked shad," he said, coming out of it. "You get that in America, too. And chicken Maryland. R., and strorberry shortcake."

"You seem very fond of food."

"And I'm very fond of Mr. Cardinal," said Augustus Robb, not to be diverted from his theme. "I keep tellin' young Cobbold he ought to try and be more like 'im. Great anxiety that young Cobbold is to me. His pop put him in my charge, and I look upon him as a sacred trust. And what 'appens? 'Arf the time he's off somewhere getting a skinful, and the other 'arf he's going about allowing butlers to persuade him to say his name's Rossiter."

"I didn't know Stanwood drank so very much."

"Absorbs the stuff like a thirsty flower absorbs the summer rain, ducky. Different from Mr. Cardinal. Always moderate 'e is. You could let Mr. Cardinal loose in a distillery with a bucket in 'is hand, and he'd come out clear-eyed and rosy-cheeked and be able to say 'British Constitution' without 'esitation. Yus, a splendid feller. And that's what makes it seem so strange that a little peanut like you keeps giving him the push."

"Aren't you getting rather rude, Mr. Robb?"

"Only for your own good, ducky. I want to see you 'appy."

"Oh? I beg your pardon."

"Granted. You'd be very 'appy with Mr. Cardinal. Nice disposition he's got."

"Yes."

"Always merry and bright."

"Yes."

"Plays the ukulele."

"You're making my mouth water."

"And kind to animals. I've known Mr. Cardinal pick up a pore lorst dog in the street and press it to his bosom, like Abraham—muddy day it was, too—and fetch it along to young Cobbold's apartment and give it young Cobbold's dinner. Touched me, that did," said Augustus Robb, wiping away another tear. "Thinkin' of bein' kind to dorgs reminds me of 'Er," he said, in explanation of this weakness. "She was always very kind to dorgs. And now 'ow about going after him and giving him that kiss and telling him you'll be his?"

"I don't think I will, Mr. Robb."

"Aren't you going to be his?"

"No."

"Now, don't you be a little muttonhead, ducky. You just 'op along and ... Oh, 'ullo, Mr. Cardinal."

Terry gave a cry.

"Oh, Mike!"

And Augustus Robb, with a sharp "Coo!", stared aghast at his handiwork. Mike's left eye was closed, and a bruise had begun to spread over the side of his face, giving him the appearance of a man who has been stung by bees.

"Coo, Mr. Cardinal, I'm sorry."

Mike waved aside his apologies.

"Quite all right, Augustus. Sort of thing that might have happened to anyone. Where's Shorty?"

"Gone to bed," said Terry. She was still staring at his battered face, conscious of strange emotions stirring within her. "Why did you rush off like that?"

"I heard your sister Adela out in the corridor."

"Oh, my goodness!"

"It's all right. I steered her off."

"What did you say to her?"

"Well, I had to think quick, of course. She was headed for the scene of disturbance, and moving well. She asked me what went on, and, as I told you, I had to think quick. You say Shorty's gone to bed? I'm glad. Let him be happy while he can. Poor old Shorty. The heart bleeds."

"Do go on. What did you say?"

"I'll tell you. I mentioned, I believe, that I had to think quick?"

"Yes, twice."

"No, only once, but then, like lightning. Well, what happened was this. It seemed to me, thinking quick, that the only way of solving the am-parce was to sacrifice Shorty. Like Russian peasants with their children, you know, when they are pursued by wolves and it becomes imperative to lighten the sledge. It would never have done for your sister to come in here and find Augustus, so I told her that Shorty was in the library, as tight as an owl and breaking windows. 'Look what he's done to my eye,' I said. I begged her to leave the thing to me. I said I would get him to bed all right. She was very grateful. She thanked me, and said what a comfort I was, and pushed off. You don't seem very elated."

"I'm thinking of Shorty."

"Yes, he is a little on my mind, too. I told you that my heart bled for him. Still, into each life some rain must fall. That's one of Spink's gags. Another is that you cannot make an omelette without breaking eggs."

"I suppose not. And, of course, you had to think quick."

"Very quick. I feel sure that Shorty, when informed of all the circumstances, will applaud."

"If not too heartily."

"If, as you say, not too heartily. He will see that I acted for the best."