Carry On Jeeves Page #2

								

a stripling of fifteen--smoking one of his special cigars in the
stables. He got after me with a hunting-crop just at the moment when I
was beginning to realize that what I wanted most on earth was solitude
and repose, and chased me more than a mile across difficult country.
If there was a flaw, so to speak, in the pure joy of being engaged
to Florence, it was the fact that she rather took after her father,
and one was never certain when she might erupt. She had a wonderful
profile, though.

'Lady Florence and I are engaged, Jeeves,' I said.

'Indeed, sir?'

You know, there was a kind of rummy something about his manner.
Perfectly all right and all that, but not what you'd call chirpy.
It somehow gave me the impression that he wasn't keen on Florence.
Well, of course, it wasn't my business. I supposed that while he had
been valeting old Worplesdon she must have trodden on his toes in
some way. Florence was a dear girl, and, seen sideways, most awfully
good-looking; but if she had a fault it was a tendency to be a bit
imperious with the domestic staff.

At this point in the proceedings there was another ring at the front
door. Jeeves shimmered out and came back with a telegram. I opened it.
It ran:

    Return immediately. Extremely urgent. Catch first train. Florence.

'Rum!' I said.

'Sir?'

'Oh, nothing!'

It shows how little I knew Jeeves in those days that I didn't go a
bit deeper into the matter with him. Nowadays I would never dream of
reading a rummy communication without asking him what he thought of
it. And this one was devilish odd. What I mean is, Florence knew I was
going back to Easeby the day after tomorrow, anyway; so why the hurry
call? Something must have happened, of course; but I couldn't see what
on earth it could be.

'Jeeves,' I said, 'we shall be going down to Easeby this afternoon. Can
you manage it?'

'Certainly, sir.'

'You can get your packing done and all that?'

'Without any difficulty, sir. Which suit will you wear for the journey?'

'This one.'

I had on a rather sprightly young check that morning, to which I was a
good deal attached; I fancied it, in fact, more than a little. It was
perhaps rather sudden till you got used to it, but, nevertheless, an
extremely sound effort, which many lads at the club and elsewhere had
admired unrestrainedly.

'Very good, sir.'

Again there was that kind of rummy something in his manner. It was
the way he said it, don't you know. He didn't like the suit. I pulled
myself together to assert myself. Something seemed to tell me that,
unless I was jolly careful and nipped this lad in the bud, he would
be starting to boss me. He had the aspect of a distinctly resolute
blighter.

Well, I wasn't going to have any of that sort of thing, by Jove!
I'd seen so many cases of fellows who had become perfect slaves to
their valets. I remember poor old Aubrey Fothergill telling me--with
absolute tears in his eyes, poor chap!--one night at the club, that
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