Pelham Wodehouse - Spring Fever

The man was lost to all shame.

"You said that?"

"Certainly."

"To Adela?"

"You betcher. 'Oh, and by the way,' I said. 'I'm going to marry Mrs. Punter.'"

"But you ain't, chum," said Augustus Robb mildly. "That's what I was starting to tell you."

"Eh?" Lord Shortlands glared formidably. He was under an obligation to this buster of petes, but gratitude was not going to make him put up with this sort of thing. "Who says so?"

Augustus Robb removed his horn-rimmed spectacles, gave them a polish and replaced them.

"Well, I do, cocky, for one, and she does, for another. Because the 'ole thing is, you see, she's going to marry me."

"What!"

"Yus. It's a long story," said Augustus Robb. "I was telling Mr. Cardinal and his little bit about it last night. We ought to have got married years ago, only she inadvertently went and waited for me at the Meek Street registry office when I was waiting for 'er at the Beak Street registry office. Shouldn't wonder if that sort of thing didn't often occur."

Terry gasped.

"Then—"

"Yus, ducky. She's the woman I loved and lorst. You could have knocked me down with a feather," said Augustus Robb. "I come out of that library after getting that there stamp, and I was doing a quiet shift-ho to my room to hide the blinking thing, when I see someone coming along the passage, and it was 'Er!"

"Good heavens!"

"You may well say 'Good heavens!', ducky. It was a fair staggerer. 'Alice!' I says, knocked all of a heap. 'Gus!' she says, pressing of a 'and to 'er 'eart. 'Is it you?' I says. 'Yus, it is,' she says, 'and you're a nice cup of tea, you are,' she says. 'What 'ave you got to say for yourself?' she says. Whereupon explanations ensued, as the expression is, and the upshot of it all is that we're off to Beak Street registry office next week—together, this time."

"You'll probably find us in the waiting room," said Mike. "My heartiest congratulations, Augustus."

"Thanks, cocky."

"If there's one thing I like, it is to see two loving hearts come together after long separation, particularly in springtime. But have you considered one rather important point? Mrs. Punter's ideals are pretty high. The man who wins her must have two hundred pounds to buy a pub."

"I've got it, and more."

"Been robbing a bank?"

"No, I 'ave not been robbing a bank. But there's a little bit of money coming to me from a source I'm not at liberty to mention. I could buy 'er 'arf a dozen pubs."

A faint groan greeted this statement. It proceeded from Lord Shortlands, who at the beginning of the recital had sunk into a chair and was lying in it in that curious boneless manner which he affected in moments of keen emotion. Terry looked at him remorsefully. Augustus Robb's human-interest story had caused her to forget that what was jam for him was gall and wormwood to a loved father.

"Oh, Shorty, darling!" she cried. "I wasn't thinking of you."

"It's all right," said Mike. "He still has us."

"Yes, Shorty, you still have us."

"And the stamp," said Mike.

Lord Shortlands stirred. He half rose in his chair like a corpse preparing to step out of the coffin. He had forgotten the stamp. Reminded of it, he showed signs of perking up a little.

"Gimme," he said feebly.

"Give him the stamp, Augustus," said Mike.

Something in the trend events had taken seemed to be embarrassing Augustus Robb. He shifted from one foot to the other, looking coy.

"Now, there's something I was intending to touch on," he said. "Yus, I was going to mention that. I'm sorry to tell you, chums, that there's been a somewhat regrettable occurrence. You see, when I come out of that liberry, I put that there stamp in me mouth, to keep it safe like, and what with the excitement and what I might call agitation of meeting 'Er, I—"

"What?" cried Lord Shortlands, for the speaker had paused. He had risen completely from his chair now, and was pawing the air feverishly. "What?"

"I swallered it, cocky," said Augustus Robb, and Lord Shortlands' blood pressure leaped to a new high as if somebody had cried "Hoop-la!" to it. "Last thing I'd 'ave wanted to 'ave 'appen, but there you are. That's Life, that's what that is. Well, good-bye, all," said Augustus Robb, and was gone. Lady Adela herself had not moved quicker.

The first of a stunned trio to comment on the situation was Lord Shortlands.

"It's a ramp!" he shouted passionately. "It's a swindle! I don't believe a word of it. He's gone off with the thing in his pocket."

Mike nodded sympathetically. The same thought had occurred to him.

"I fear so, Shorty. One should have reflected, before enlisting Augustus's services, that he is a man of infinite guile. One begins to see now why he spoke so loftily about having enough money to buy half a dozen pubs."

"I'll sue him! I'll fight the case to the House of Lords!"

"H'm," said Mike. And Lord Shortlands, on reflection, said "H'm" too.

A moment later he was uttering a cry so loud and agonized that Terry leaped like a jumping bean, and even Mike was disconcerted. The fifth earl was staring before him with bulging eyes. He reminded Mike of a butler discovering beetles in his glass of port.

"What the devil am I to do?" he wailed, writhing visibly. "I've gone and told Adela about Mrs. Punter!"

"So you have!" said Mike. "If I may borrow Augustus's favorite expression, Coo! But have no alarm—"

"She'll make my life a hell! I'll never have another peaceful moment. My every movement will be watched for the rest of my life. Why, dash it, it'll be like being a prisoner in a bally chain gang."

Terry's eyes grew round.

"Oh, Shorty!" she cried, but Mike patted him on the back.

"It's quite all right," he said. "You heard me say 'Have no alarm.' Will the public never learn that if they have Mycroft Cardinal in their corner, Fate cannot touch them?"

"You have a plan?" said Terry.

"I have a plan. Shorty will accompany us to Dottyville-on-the-Pacific."

"Of course!"

"I must try to break you of that habit of yours of saying 'Of course!' when

I put forward one of my brilliant solutions, as if you had been on the point of thinking of it yourself."

"Sorry, my king."

"Okey-doke, my queen."

"Where is Dottyville-on-the-Pacific?" asked Lord Shortlands.

"A little west of Los Angeles," said Mike. "It is sometimes known as Hollywood. We shall be starting thither almost any day now. Just got to get married and fix up your passport and so on. Pack a few necessaries and sneak off to your club and wait there for further instructions. I will attend to all the financial arrangements."

"My dear boy!"

"What an organizer! He thinks of everything, doesn't he?" said Terry.

"He does, indeed," said Lord Shortlands.

"And when we get to Hollywood," said Mike, "if you feel like making a little spending money, I think I can put you in the way of it. I don't know if you ever noticed it, my dear Shorty, but you are a particularly good butler type."

"A butlei type?"

Terry squeaked.

"All these years," she said, "I've been trying to think what Shorty reminded me of, and now I know. Of course, darling, you look exactly like a butler."

"Do I?" said Lord Shortlands.

"Exactly," said Terry.

"And for such," proceeded Mike, "there is a constant demand. I cannot hold out hope of stardom, of course; just a nice, steady living. Say 'Very good, m'lord.'"

"Very good, m'lord."

"Perfect. What artistry! You will be a great asset to the silver screen. And now we must leave you. My future wife wishes to show me the rose garden."

"Haven't you seen it?"

"Not with her," said Mike.

For some moments after he found himself alone, Lord Shortlands stood motionless, gazing into the golden future. Then, walking jerkily, for he was still enfeebled, he moved to the mirror and peered into it.