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

"And,  Baxter,  My Dear Fellow," Said Lord Emsworth,  "You Might

Telephone To Doctor Bird,  In Market Blandings,  And Ask Him To Be

Good Enough To Drive Out. I Am Sorry,  Freddie," He Added,  "That

You Should Have Met With This Accident; But--But Everything Is

So--So Disturbing Nowadays That I Feel--I Feel Most Disturbed."

Ashe And The Honorable Freddie Began To Move Across The

Hall--Freddie Hopping,  Ashe Advancing With A Sort Of Polka Step.

As They Reached The Stairs There Was A Sound Of Wheels Outside

And The Vanguard Of The House Party,  Returned From Church,

Entered The House.

"It's All Very Well To Give It Out Officially That Freddie Has

Fallen Downstairs And Sprained His Ankle," Said Colonel Horace

Mant,  Discussing The Affair With The Bishop Of Godalming Later In

The Afternoon; "But It's My Firm Belief That That Fellow Baxter

Did Precisely As I Said He Would--Ran Amuck And Inflicted Dashed

Frightful Injuries On Young Freddie. When I Got Into The House

There Was Freddie Being Helped Up The Stairs,  While Baxter,  With

His Face Covered With Soot,  Was Looking After Him With A Sort Of

Evil Grin. What Had He Smeared His Face With Soot For,  I Should

Like To Know,  If He Were Perfectly Sane?

"The Whole Thing Is Dashed Fishy And Mysterious And The Sooner I

Can Get Mildred Safely Out Of The Place,  The Better I Shall Be

Pleased. The Fellow's As Mad As A Hatter!"

When Lord Emsworth,  Sighting Mr. Peters In The Group Of Returned

Churchgoers,  Drew Him Aside And Broke The News That The Valuable

Scarab,  So Kindly Presented By Him To The Castle Museum,  Had Been

Stolen In The Night By Some Person Unknown,  He Thought The

Millionaire Took It Exceedingly Well. Though The Stolen Object No

Longer Belonged To Him,  Mr. Peters No Doubt Still Continued To

Take An Affectionate Interest In It And Might Have Been Excused

Had He Shown Annoyance That His Gift Had Been So Carelessly

Guarded.

Mr. Peters Was,  However,  Thoroughly Magnanimous About The Matter.

He Deprecated The Notion That The Earl Could Possibly Have

Prevented This Unfortunate Occurrence. He Quite Understood. He

Was Not In The Least Hurt. Nobody Could Have Foreseen Such A

Calamity. These Things Happened And One Had To Accept Them. He

Himself Had Once Suffered In Much The Same Way,  The Gem Of His

Collection Having Been Removed Almost Beneath His Eyes In The

Smoothest Possible Fashion.

Altogether,  He Relieved Lord Emsworth's Mind Very Much; And When

He Had Finished Doing So He Departed Swiftly And Rang For Ashe.

When Ashe Arrived He Bubbled Over With Enthusiasm. He Was Lyrical

In His Praise. He Went So Far As To Slap Ashe On The Back. It Was

Only When The Latter Disclaimed All Credit For What Had Occurred

That He Checked The Flow Of Approbation.

"It Wasn't You Who Got It? Who Was It,  Then?"

"It Was Miss Peters' Maid. It's A Long Story; But We Were Working

In Partnership. I Tried For The Thing And Failed,  And She

Succeeded."

It Was With Mixed Feelings That Ashe Listened While Mr. Peters

Transferred His Adjectives Of Commendation To Joan. He Admired

Joan's Courage,  He Was Relieved That Her Venture Had Ended

Without Disaster,  And He Knew That She Deserved Whatever Anyone

Could Find To Say In Praise Of Her Enterprise: But,  At First,

Though He Tried To Crush It Down,  He Could Not Help Feeling A

Certain Amount Of Chagrin That A Girl Should Have Succeeded Where

He,  Though Having The Advantage Of First Chance,  Had Failed. The

Terms Of His Partnership With Joan Had Jarred On Him From The

Beginning.

A Man May Be In Sympathy With The Modern Movement For The

Emancipation Of Woman And Yet Feel Aggrieved When A Mere Girl

Proves Herself A More Efficient Thief Than Himself. Woman Is

Invading Man's Sphere More Successfully Every Day; But There Are

Still Certain Fields In Which Man May Consider That He Is

Rightfully Entitled To A Monopoly--And The Purloining Of Scarabs

In The Watches Of The Night Is Surely One Of Them. Joan,  In

Ashe's Opinion,  Should Have Played A Meeker And Less Active Part.

These Unworthy Emotions Did Not Last Long. Whatever His Other

Shortcomings,  Ashe Possessed A Just Mind. By The Time He Had

Found Joan,  After Mr. Peters Had Said His Say,  And Dispatched Him

Below Stairs For That Purpose,  He Had Purged Himself Of Petty

Regrets And Was Prepared To Congratulate Her Whole-Heartedly. He

Was,  However,  Resolved That Nothing Should Induce Him To Share In

The Reward. On That Point,  He Resolved,  He Would Refuse To Be

Shaken.

"I Have Just Left Mr. Peters," He Began. "All Is Well. His Check

Book Lies Before Him On The Table And He Is Trying To Make His

Fountain Pen Work Long Enough To Write A Check. But There Is Just

One Thing I Want To Say--"

She Interrupted Him. To His Surprise,  She Was Eyeing Him Coldly

And With Disapproval.

"And There Is Just One Thing I Want To Say," She Said; "And That

Is,  If You Imagine I Shall Consent To Accept A Penny Of The

Reward--"

"Exactly What I Was Going To Say. Of Course I Couldn't Dream Of

Taking Any Of It."

"I Don't Understand You. You Are Certainly Going To Have It All.

I Told You When We Made Our Agreement That I Should Only Take My

Share If You Let Me Do My Share Of The Work. Now That You Have

Broken That Agreement,  Nothing Could Induce Me To Take It. I Know

You Meant It Kindly,  Mr. Marson,  But I Simply Can't Feel

Grateful. I Told You That Ours Was A Business Contract And That I

Wouldn't Have Any Chivalry; And I Thought That After You Had

Given Me Your Promise--"

"One Moment," Said Ashe,  Bewildered. "I Can't Follow This. What

Do You Mean?"

"What Do I Mean? Why,  That You Went Down To The Museum Last Night

Before Me And Took The Scarab,  Though You Had Promised To Stay

Away And Give Me My Chance."

"But I Didn't Do Anything Of The Sort."

It Was Joan's Turn To Look Bewildered.

"But You Have Got The Scarab,  Mr. Marson?"

"Why,  You Have Got It!"

"No!"

"But--But It Has Gone!"

"I Know. I Went Down To The Museum Last Night,  As We Had

Arranged; And When I Got There There Was No Scarab. It Had

Disappeared."

They Looked At Each Other In Consternation. Ashe Was The First To

Speak.

"It Was Gone When You Got To The Museum?"

"There Wasn't A Trace Of It. I Took It For Granted That You Had

Been Down Before Me. I Was Furious!"

"But This Is Ridiculous!" Said Ashe. "Who Can Have Taken It?

There Was Nobody Beside Ourselves Who Knew Mr. Peters Was

Offering The Reward. What Exactly Happened Last Night?"

"I Waited Until One O'clock. Then I Slipped Down,  Got Into The

Museum,  Struck A Match,  And Looked For The Scarab. It Wasn't

There. I Couldn't Believe It At First. I Struck Some More

Matches--Quite A Number--But It Was No Good. The Scarab Was Gone;

So I Went Back To Bed And Thought Hard Thoughts About You. It Was

Silly Of Me. I Ought To Have Known You Would Not Break Your Word;

But There Didn't Seem Any Other Solution Of The Thing's

Disappearance.

"Well,  Somebody Must Have Taken It; And The Question Is,  What Are

We To Do?" She Laughed. "It Seems To Me That We Were A Little

Premature In Quarreling About How We Are To Divide That Reward.

It Looks As Though There Wasn't Going To Be Any Reward."

"Meantime," Said Ashe Gloomily,  "I Suppose I Have Got To Go Back

And Tell Peters. I Expect It Will Break His Heart."

Blandings Castle Dozed In The Calm Of An English Sunday

Afternoon. All Was Peace. Freddie Was In Bed,  With Orders From

The Doctor To Stay There Until Further Notice. Baxter Had Washed

His Face. Lord Emsworth Had Returned To His Garden Fork. The Rest

Of The House Party Strolled About The Grounds Or Sat In Them,  For

The Day Was One Of Those Late Spring Days That Are