Something New by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (best memoirs of all time TXT) 📕

"Just For A Few Minutes At Paddington."

"Oh! You Haven't Been With Mr. Peters Long,  Then?"

Ashe Began To Wonder Whether Everybody He Met Was Going To Ask

Him This Dangerous Question.

"Only A Day Or So."

"Where Were You Before That?"

Ashe Was Conscious Of A Prickly Sensation. A Little More Of This

And He Might As Well Reveal His True Mission At The Castle And

Have Done With It.

"Oh,  I Was--That Is To Say----"

"How Are You Feeling After The Journey,  Mr. Marson?" Said A Voice

From The Other Side Of The Table; And Ashe,  Looking Up

Gratefully,  Found Joan's Eyes Looking Into His With A Curiously

Amused Expression.

He Was Too Grateful For The Interruption To Try To Account For

This. He Replied That He Was Feeling Very Well,  Which Was Not The

Case. Miss Willoughby's Interest Was Diverted To A Discussion Of

The Defects Of The Various Railroad Systems Of Great Britain.

At The Head Of The Table Mr. Beach Had Started An Intimate

Conversation With Mr. Ferris,  The Valet Of Lord Stockheath,  The

Honorable Freddie's "Poor Old Percy"--A Cousin,  Ashe Had

Gathered,  Of Aline Peters' Husband-To-Be. The Butler Spoke In

More Measured Tones Even Than Usual,  For He Was Speaking Of

Tragedy.

"We Were All Extremely Sorry,  Mr. Ferris,  To Read Of Your

Misfortune."

Ashe Wondered What Had Been Happening To Mr. Ferris.

"Yes,  Mr. Beach," Replied The Valet,  "It's A Fact We Made A

Pretty Poor Show." He Took A Sip From His Glass. "There Is No

Concealing The Fact--I Have Never Tried To Conceal It--That Poor

Percy Is Not Bright."

Miss Chester Entered The Conversation.

"I Couldn't See Where The Girl--What's Her Name? Was So Very

Pretty. All The Papers Had Pieces Where It Said She Was

Attractive,  And What Not; But She Didn't Look Anything Special To

Me From Her Photograph In The Mirror. What His Lordship Could See

In Her I Can't Understand."

"The Photo Didn't Quite Do Her Justice,  Miss Chester. I Was

Present In Court,  And I Must Admit She Was Svelte--Decidedly

Svelte. And You Must Recollect That Percy,  From Childhood Up,  Has

Always Been A Highly Susceptible Young Nut. I Speak As One Who

Knows Him."

Mr. Beach Turned To Joan.

"We Are Speaking Of The Stockheath Breach-Of-Promise Case,  Miss

Simpson,  Of Which You Doubtless Read In The Newspapers. Lord

Stockheath Is A Nephew Of Ours. I Fancy His Lordship Was Greatly

Shocked At The Occurrence."

"He Was," Chimed In Mr. Judson From Down The Table. "I Happened

To Overhear Him Speaking Of It To Young Freddie. It Was In The

Library On The Morning When The Judge Made His Final Summing Up

And Slipped It Into Lord Stockheath So Proper. 'If Ever Anything

Of This Sort Happens To You,  You Young Scalawag,' He Says To

Freddie--"

Mr. Beach Coughed. "Mr. Judson!"

"Oh,  It's All Right,  Mr. Beach; We're All In The Family Here,  In

A Manner Of Speaking. It Wasn't As Though I Was Telling It To A

Lot Of Outsiders. I'm Sure None Of These Ladies Or Gentlemen

Will Let It Go Beyond This Room?"

The Company Murmured Virtuous Acquiescence.

"He Says To Freddie: 'You Young Scalawag,  If Ever Anything Of

This Sort Happens To You,  You Can Pack Up And Go Off To Canada,

For I'll Have Nothing More To Do With You!'--Or Words To That

Effect. And Freddie Says: 'Oh,  Dash It All,  Gov'nor,  You

Know--What?'"

However Short Mr. Judson's Imitation Of His Master's Voice May

Have Fallen Of Histrionic Perfection,  It Pleased The Company. The

Room Shook With Mirth.

"Mr. Judson Is Clever,  Isn't He,  Mr. Marson?" Whispered Miss

Willoughby,  Gazing With Adoring Eyes At The Speaker.

Mr. Beach Thought It Expedient To Deflect The Conversation. By

The Unwritten Law Of The Room Every Individual Had The Right To

Speak As Freely As He Wished About His Own Personal Employer; But

Judson,  In His Opinion,  Sometimes Went A Trifle Too Far.

"Tell Me,  Mr. Ferris," He Said,  "Does His Lordship Seem To Bear

It Well?"

"Oh,  Percy Is Bearing It Well Enough."

Ashe Noted As A Curious Fact That,  Though The Actual Valet Of Any

Person Under Discussion Spoke Of Him Almost Affectionately By His

Christian Name,  The Rest Of The Company Used The Greatest

Ceremony And Gave Him His Title With All Respect. Lord Stockheath

Was Percy To Mr. Ferris,  And The Honorable Frederick Threepwood

Was Freddie To Mr. Judson; But To Ferris,  Mr. Judson's Freddie

Was The Honorable Frederick,  And To Judson Mr. Ferris' Percy Was

Lord Stockheath. It Was Rather A Pleasant Form Of Etiquette,  And

Struck Ashe As Somehow Vaguely Feudal.

"Percy," Went On Mr. Ferris,  "Is Bearing It Like A Little

Briton--The Damages Not Having Come Out Of His Pocket! It's His

Old Father--Who Had To Pay Them--That's Taking It To Heart. You

Might Say He's Doing Himself Proud. He Says It's Brought On His

Gout Again,  And That's Why He's Gone To Droitwich Instead Of

Coming Here. I Dare Say Percy Isn't Sorry."

"It Has Been," Said Mr. Beach,  Summing Up,  "A Most Unfortunate

Occurrence. The Modern Tendency Of The Lower Classes To Get Above

Themselves Is Becoming More Marked Every Day. The Young Female In

This Case Was,  I Understand,  A Barmaid. It Is Deplorable That Our

Young Men Should Allow Themselves To Get Into Such

Entanglements."

"The Wonder To Me," Said The Irrepressible Mr. Judson,  "Is That

More Of These Young Chaps Don't Get Put Through It. His Lordship

Wasn't So Wide Of The Mark When He Spoke Like That To Freddie In

The Library That Time. I Give You My Word,  It's A Mercy Young

Freddie Hasn't Been Up Against It! When We Were In London,

Freddie And I," He Went On,  Cutting Through Mr. Beach's

Disapproving Cough,  "Before What You Might Call The Crash,  When

His Lordship Cut Off Supplies And Had Him Come Back And Live

Here,  Freddie Was Asking For It--Believe Me! Fell In Love With A

Girl In The Chorus Of One Of The Theaters. Used To Send Me To The

Stage Door With Notes And Flowers Every Night For Weeks,  As

Regular As Clockwork.

"What Was Her Name? It's On The Tip Of My Tongue. Funny How You

Forget These Things! Freddie Was Pretty Far Gone. I Recollect

Once,  Happening To Be Looking Round His Room In His Absence,

Coming On A Poem He Had Written To Her. It Was Hot Stuff--Very

Hot! If That Girl Has Kept Those Letters It's My Belief We Shall

See Freddie Following In Lord Stockheath's Footsteps."

There Was A Hush Of Delighted Horror Round The Table.

"Goo'," Said Miss Chester's Escort With Unction. "You Don't Say

So,  Mr. Judson! It Wouldn't Half Make Them Look Silly If The

Honorable Frederick Was Sued For Breach Just Now,  With The

Wedding Coming On!"

"There Is No Danger Of That."

It Was Joan's Voice,  And She Had Spoken With Such Decision That

She Had The Ear Of The Table Immediately. All Eyes Looked In Her

Direction. Ashe Was Struck With Her Expression. Her Eyes Were

Shining As Though She Were Angry; And There Was A Flush On Her

Face. A Phrase He Had Used In The Train Came Back To Him. She

Looked Like A Princess In Disguise.

"What Makes You Say That,  Miss Simpson?" Inquired Judson,

Annoyed. He Had Been At Pains To Make The Company's Flesh Creep,

And It Appeared To Be Joan's Aim To Undo His Work.

It Seemed To Ashe That Joan Made An Effort Of Some Sort As Though

She Were Pulling Herself Together And Remembering Where She Was.

"Well," She Said,  Almost Lamely,  "I Don't Think It At All Likely

That He Proposed Marriage To This Girl."

"You Never Can Tell," Said Judson. "My Impression Is That Freddie

Did. It's My Belief That There's Something On His Mind These

Days. Before He Went To London With His Lordship The Other Day He

Was Behaving Very Strange. And Since He Came Back It's My Belief

That He Has Been Brooding. And I Happen To Know He Followed The

Affair Of Lord Stockheath Pretty Closely,  For He Clipped The

Clippings Out Of The Paper. I Found Them Myself One Day When I

Happened To Be Going Through His Things."

Beach Cleared His Throat--His Mode Of Indicating That He Was

About To Monopolize The Conversation.

"And In Any Case,  Miss Simpson," He Said Solemnly,  "With Things

Come To The Pass They Have Come To,  And The Juries--Drawn From

The Lower Classes--In The Nasty Mood They're In,  It Don't Seem

Hardly Necessary In These Affairs For There To Have Been Any

Definite Promise Of Marriage. What With All This Socialism

Rampant,  They Seem So Happy At The Idea Of Being Able To Do One

Of Us An Injury That They Give Heavy Damages Without It. A Few

Ardent Expressions,  And That's Enough For Them. You Recollect The

Havant Case,  And When Young Lord Mount Anville Was Sued? What It

Comes To Is That Anarchy Is Getting The Upper Hand,  And The Lower

Classes Are Getting Above Themselves. It's All These Here Cheap

Newspapers That Does It. They Tempt The Lower Classes To Get

Above Themselves.

"Only This Morning I Had To Speak Severe To That Young Fellow,

James,  The Footman. He Was A Good Young Fellow Once And Did His

Work Well,  And Had A Proper Respect For People; But Now He's Gone

All To Pieces. And Why? Because Six Months Ago He Had The

Rheumatism,  And Had The Audacity To Send His Picture And A

Testimonial,  Saying That It Had Cured Him Of Awful Agonies,  To

Walkinshaw's Supreme Ointment,  And They Printed It In Half A

Dozen Papers; And It Has Been The Ruin Of James. He Has Got Above

Himself And Don't Care For Nobody."

"Well,  All I Can Say Is," Resumed Judson,  "That I Hope To

Goodness Nothing Won't Happen To Freddie