Pelham Wodehouse - Spring Fever

"Let's hope that that will comfort him when he meets Adela tomorrow. And now what do we do for that eye of yours?"

"I was about to take it to bed."

"It wants bathing in warm water."

"It wants 'avin' a bit of steak put on it," said Augustus Robb with decision. His had been a life into which at one time injured eyes had entered rather largely. "You trot along to the larder, ducky, and get a nice piece of raw steak. Have him fixed up in no time."

"I think you're right," said Mike.

"I know I'm right. You can't beat steak."

"Cruel Sports of the Past—Beating the Steak. I hate to give you all this trouble."

"No trouble," said Terry, and departed on her errand of mercy.

Augustus Robb surveyed the eye, and delivered an expert's verdict.

"That's a shiner, all right, chum."

"It is, indeed, Augustus. I feel as if I'd got mumps."

"Pity it 'ad to come at a time like this."

"You consider the moment ill chosen?"

"Well, use your intelligence, cocky. You want to look your best before 'Er, don't you? Women don't like seein' a feller with a bunged-up eye. Puts them off of him. May awake pity, per'aps, but not love. I could tell by the way the little bit of fluff was talkin' just now—"

"By 'little bit of fluff' you mean—"

"Why, 'Er."

"I see. Would it be possible for you, Augustus, in speaking of Lady Teresa Cobbold, not to describe her as a little bit of fluff?"

"Well, if you're so particular. So what was I saying? Ho, yus. When 1 suggested to her that she should ... Coo! That eye's getting worse. Deepenin' in colour. Reminds me of one a feller give me in our debating society once, when I was speaking in the Conservative interest, him being of Socialistic views... Where was I?"

"I don't know."

"I do. I was starting to tell you the advice I give that little bit of fluff."

"Augustus!"

"Mind you, I can fully understand your being took with 'er. Now I've seen 'er, I can appreciate those sentiments of yours in that letter. She's a cuddly little piece."

Mike sighed. He had hoped to be able to get through the evening without recourse to Stanwood Cobbold methods, but it was plain that only these methods would serve here.

"Augustus," he said gently.

"'Ullo?"

"Doing anything at the moment?"

"No."

"Then just turn around, will you?"

"Why?"

"Never mind why. I ask this as a favor. Turn around, and bend over a little."

"Like this?"

"That's exactly right. There!" said Mike, and kicked the inviting target with a vigour and crispness of follow-through which would have caused even Stanwood to nod approvingly.

"Hoy!" cried Augustus Robb.

He had drawn himself to his full height, and would probably have spoken further, but at this moment Terry came in, carrying a bowl of warm water and a plate with a piece of steak on it.

"Here we are," she said. "You look very serious, Mr. Robb."

Augustus Robb did not reply. His feelings had been wounded to the quick, and he was full of thoughts too deep for utterance. Adjusting his hornrimmed spectacles and giving Mike another long, silent, reproachful look, he strode from the room. Terry gazed after him, perplexed.

"What's the matter with Mr. Robb?"

"I have just been obliged to kick him."

"Kick him? Why?"

"He spoke lightly of a woman's name."

"No!"

"I assure you."

"How is he as a light speaker?"

"In the first rank. He sullied my ears by describing you as a cuddly little piece."

"But aren't I?"

"That is not the point. If we are to be saved from the disruptive forces that wrecked Rome and Babylon, we cannot have retired porch climbers speaking in this lax manner of girls who are more like angels than anything. It strikes at the very root of everything that makes for sane and stabilized government. 'Cuddly little piece,' indeed!"

"Bend your head down," said Terry. She dabbed at his eye with the sponge. "You know, you're going to be sorry for this."

"Not unless you drip the water down my neck."

"For kicking poor Mr. Robb, I mean. He's your staunchest friend and firmest supporter. Before you came in, he was urging me to marry you."

"What!"

"I told you you would be sorry."

"I'm gnawed by remorse. How can I ever atone? Tell me more,"

"He was very emphatic. He said you were the whitest man he knew, and expressed himself as amazed that a little peanut like me should spurn your suit."

"God bless him! To think that foot of mine should have jolted that golden-hearted trouser seat. I will abase myself before him tomorrow. But isn't it extraordinary—"

"Don't wiggle. The water's going down your neck."

"I like it. But isn't it extraordinary how everyone seems to want you to marry me? First Shorty, and now Augustus. It's what the papers call a widespread popular demand. Don't you think you ought to listen to the Voice of the People?"

"Now the steak. I'll tie it up with your handkerchief."

Mike sighed sentimentally.

"How little I thought in those lonely days in Hollywood that a time would come when I would be sitting in your home, with you sticking steak on my eye!"

"Were you lonely in Hollywood?"

"Achingly lonely."

"Odd."

"Not at all. You were not there."

"I mean, that isn't Stanwood's story. He said you were never to be seen without dozens of girls around you, like the hero of a musical comedy."

Mike started.

"Did Stanwood tell you that?"

"Yes. He said that watching you flit through the night life of Hollywood always brought to his mind that old song 'Hullo, hullo, hullo, it's a different girl again!'"

There came to Mike, not for the first time, the thought that Stanwood Cobbold ought to be in some kind of home.

"Wasn't he right? Didn't you ever go out with girls?"

It is difficult to look dignified with a piece of steak on your left eye, but Mike did his best.

"I may occasionally have relaxed in feminine society. One does in those parts. But what of it?"

"Oh, nothing. I just mentioned it."

"Hollywood is not a monastery."

"No, so I've heard."

"It's a place where women are, as it were, rather thrust upon you. And one has to be civil."

"There. That's the best I can do. How does it feel?"

"Awful. Like some kind of loathsome growth."

"I wish you could see yourself in the glass."

"You're always wanting me to see myself in the glass. Do I look bad?"

"Repulsive. Like a wounded gangster after a beer war."

"Then now is obviously the moment to renew my suit. You said, if you remember, that if ever there came a time when my fatal beauty took a toss—"

"It's only temporary, I'm afraid. Tomorrow, if you keep the steak on, you'll be just as dazzling as ever. I'll say good night."

"You would say some silly thing like that at a moment like this. I'm going to keep you here till breakfast time, unless you're sensible."

"In what way sensible?"

"You know in what way sensible. Terry, you little mutt, will you marry me?"

"No."

"But why not?"

"I told you why not."

"I wrote that off as pure delirium. Girls don't turn a man down just because he has regular features."

"This one does."

"But you know I love you." "Do I?"

"You ought to by this time. You're the only girl in the world, as far as I'm concerned."

"Not according to Stanwood. He was most explicit on the point. Dozens of them, he told me, night after night, each lovelier than the last and all of them squealing 'Oh, Mike, darling!'"

"Curse Stanwood! The sort of man who ought to be horsewhipped on the steps of his club."

"The only trouble is that if you horsewhipped Stanwood on the steps of his club, he would horsewhip you on the steps of yours."

"I know. That's the catch. It's all wrong that fellows who talk the way Stanwood Cobbold does should be constructed so large and muscular. It doesn't give the righteous a chance."