P g wodehouse, p.18

P G Wodehouse, page 18

 

P G Wodehouse
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  “It beats me,” he said, “why you ever came over at all, if you feel

  like that.”

  “Duty!” said Jimmy. “Duty! Th

  ere comes a time in the life of

  every man when he must choose between what is pleasant and what

  is right.”

  121

  P. G. WODEHOUSE

  “And that last fool-game of yours, that Lord Percy Whipple

  business, must have made London pretty hot for you?” suggested

  Mr. Pett.

  “Your explanation is less romantic than mine, but there is some-

  thing in what you say.”

  “Had it occurred to you, young man, that I am taking a chance

  putting a fellow like you to work in my offi

  ce?”

  “Have no fear. Th

  e little bit of work I shall do won’t make any

  diff erence.”

  “I’ve half a mind to send you straight back to London.”

  “Couldn’t we compromise?”

  “How?”

  “Well, haven’t you some snug secretarial job you could put me

  into? I have an idea that I should make an ideal secretary.”

  “My secretaries work.”

  “I get you. Cancel the suggestion.”

  Mr. Pett rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

  “You puzzle me. And that’s the truth.”

  “Always speak the truth,” said Jimmy approvingly.

  “I’m darned if I know what to do with you. Well, you’d better

  come home with me now, anyway, and meet your aunt, and then we

  can talk things over. After all, the main thing is to keep you out of

  mischief.”

  “You put things crudely, but no doubt you are right.”

  “You’ll live with us, of course.”

  “Th

  ank you very much. Th

  is is the right spirit.”

  “I’ll have to talk to Nesta about you. Th

  ere may be something

  you can do.”

  “I shouldn’t mind being a partner,” suggested Jimmy helpfully.

  “Why don’t you get work on a paper again? You used to do

  that well.”

  “I don’t think my old paper would welcome me now. Th

  ey re-

  gard me rather as an entertaining news-item than a worker.”

  “Th

  at’s true. Say, why on earth did you make such a fool of your-

  self over on the other side? Th

  at breach-of-promise case with the

  barmaid!” said Mr. Pett reproachfully.

  “Let bygones be bygones,” said Jimmy. “I was more sinned

  against than sinning. You know how it is, uncle Pete!” Mr. Pett

  started violently, but said nothing. “You try out of pure goodness of

  122

  PICADILLY JIM

  heart to scatter light and sweetness and protect the poor working-

  girl – like Heaven – and brighten up her lot and so on, and she turns

  right around and soaks it to you good! And anyway she wasn’t a

  barmaid. She worked in a fl orist’s shop.”

  “I don’t see that that makes any diff erence.”

  “All the diff erence in the world, all the diff erence between the

  sordid and the poetical. I don’t know if you have ever experienced

  the hypnotic intoxication of a fl orist’s shop? Take it from me, uncle

  Pete, any girl can look an angel as long as she is surrounded by choice

  blooms. I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t responsible. I only woke up

  when I met her outside. But all that sort of thing is diff erent now. I

  am another man. Sober, steady, serious-minded!”

  Mr. Pett had taken the receiver from the telephone and was talk-

  ing to some one. Th

  e buzzing of a feminine voice came to Jimmy’s

  ears. Mr. Pett hung up the receiver.

  “Your aunt says we are to come up at once.”

  “I’m ready. And it will be a good excuse for you to knock off

  work. I bet you’re glad I came! Does the carriage await or shall we

  take the subway?”

  “I guess it will be quicker to take the subway. Your aunt’s very

  surprised that you are here, and very pleased.”

  “I’m making everybody happy to-day.”

  Mr. Pett was looking at him in a meditative way. Jimmy caught

  his eye.

  “You’re registering something, uncle Pete, and I don’t know

  what it is. Why the glance?”

  “I was just thinking of something.”

  “Jimmy,” prompted his nephew.

  “Eh?”

  “Add the word Jimmy to your remarks. It will help me to feel at

  home and enable me to overcome my shyness.”

  Mr. Pett chuckled.

  “Shyness! If I had your nerve – !” He broke off with a sigh and

  looked at Jimmy aff ectionately. “What I was thinking was that you’re

  a good boy. At least, you’re not, but you’re diff erent from that gang

  of – of – that crowd up-town.”

  “What crowd?”

  “Your aunt is literary, you know. She’s fi lled the house with po-

  ets and that sort of thing. It will be a treat having you around. You’re

  123

  P. G. WODEHOUSE

  human! I don’t see that we’re going to make much of you now that

  you’re here, but I’m darned glad you’ve come, Jimmy!”

  “Put it there, uncle Pete!” said Jimmy. “You’re all right. You’re

  the fi nest Captain of Industry I ever met!”

  Chapter 

  Slight Complications

  They left the subway at Ninety-sixth Street and walked up the

  Drive. Jimmy, like every one else who saw it for the fi rst time, expe-

  rienced a slight shock at the sight of the Pett mansion, but, rallying,

  followed his uncle up the fl agged path to the front door.

  “Your aunt will be in the drawing-room, I guess,” said Mr. Pett,

  opening the door with his key.

  Jimmy was looking round him appreciatively. Mr. Pett’s house

  might be an eyesore from without, but inside it had had the benefi t

  of the skill of the best interior decorator in New York.

  “A man could be very happy in a house like this, if he didn’t have

  to poison his days with work,” said Jimmy.

  Mr. Pett looked alarmed.

  “Don’t go saying anything like that to your aunt!” he urged.

  “She thinks you have come to settle down.”

  “So I have. I’m going to settle down like a limpet. I hope I shall be

  living in luxury on you twenty years from now. Is this the room?”

  Mr. Pett opened the drawing-room door. A small hairy object

  sprang from a basket and stood yapping in the middle of the room.

  Th

  is was Aida, Mrs. Pett’s Pomeranian. Mr. Pett, avoiding the ani-

  mal coldly, for he disliked it, ushered Jimmy into the room.

  “Here’s Jimmy Crocker, Nesta.”

  Jimmy was aware of a handsome woman of middle age, so like

  his step-mother that for an instant his self-possession left him and

  he stammered.

  “How – how do you do?”

  His demeanour made a favourable impression on Mrs. Pett. She

  took it for the decent confusion of remorse.

  “I was very surprised when your uncle telephoned me,” she said.

  “I had not the slightest idea that you were coming over. I am very

  glad to see you.”

  124

  PICADILLY JIM

  “Th

  ank you.”

  “Th

  is is your cousin, Ogden.”

  Jimmy perceived a fat boy lying on a settee. He had not risen on

  Jimmy’s entrance, and he did not rise now. He did not even lower

  the book he was reading.

  “Hello,” he said.

  Jimmy crossed over to the settee, and looked down on him.

  He had got over his momentary embarrassment, and, as usual

  with him, the reaction led to a fatal breeziness. He prodded

  Ogden in his well-covered ribs, producing a yelp of protest from

  that astounded youth.

  “So this is Ogden! Well, well, well! You don’t grow up, Ogden,

  but you do grow out. What are you – a perfect sixty-six?”

  Th

  e favourable impression which Mrs. Pett had formed of her

  nephew waned. She was shocked by this disrespectful attitude to-

  wards the child she worshipped.

  “Please do not disturb Ogden, James,” she said stiffl

  y. “He is not

  feeling very well to-day. His stomach is weak.”

  “Been eating too much?” said Jimmy cheerfully.

  “I was just the same at his age. What he wants is half rations and

  plenty of exercise.”

  “Say!” protested Ogden.

  “Just look at this,” proceeded Jimmy, grasping a handful of su-

  perfl uous tissue around the boy’s ribs. “All that ought to come off . I’ll

  tell you what I’ll do. I’ll buy a pair of fl annel trousers and a sweater

  and some sneakers, and I’ll take him for a run up Riverside Drive

  this evening. Do him no end of good. And a good skipping-rope,

  too. Nothing like it. In a couple of weeks I’ll have him as fi t as a—”

  “Ogden’s case,” said Mrs. Pett coldly, “which is very compli-

  cated, is in the hands of Doctor Briginshaw, in whom we have every

  confi dence.”

  Th

  ere was a silence, the paralysing eff ects of which Mr. Pett vainly

  tried to mitigate by shuffl

  ing his feet and coughing. Mrs. Pett spoke.

  “I hope that, now that you are here, James, you intend to settle

  down and work hard.”

  “Indubitably. Like a beaver,” said Jimmy, mindful of Mr. Pett’s

  recent warning. “Th

  e only trouble is that there seems to be a little

  uncertainty as to what I am best fi tted for. We talked it over in uncle

  Pete’s offi

  ce and arrived at no conclusion.”

  125

  P. G. WODEHOUSE

  “Can’t you think of anything?” said Mr. Pett.

  “I looked right through the telephone classifi ed directory the

  other day—”

  “Th

  e other day? But you only landed this morning.”

  “I mean this morning. When I was looking up your address

  so that I could go and see you,” said Jimmy glibly. “It seems a long

  time ago. I think the sight of all those fellows in your offi

  ce has

  aged me. I think the best plan would be for me to settle down here

  and learn how to be an electrical engineer or something by mail.

  I was reading an advertisement in a magazine as we came up on

  the subway. I see they guarantee to teach you anything from sheet

  metal working to poultry raising. Th

  e thing began ‘You are stand-

  ing still because you lack training.’ It seemed to me to apply to my

  case exactly. I had better drop them a line to-night asking for a few

  simple facts about chickens.”

  Whatever comment Mrs. Pett might have made on this sug-

  gestion was checked by the entrance of Ann. From the window of

  her room Ann had observed the arrival of Jimmy and her uncle, and

  now, having allowed suffi

  cient time to elapse for the former to make

  Mrs. Pett’s acquaintance, she came down to see how things were

  going.

  She was well satisfi ed with what she saw. A slight strain which

  she perceived in the atmosphere she attributed to embarrassment

  natural to the situation.

  She looked at Jimmy enquiringly. Mrs. Pett had not informed

  her of Mr. Pett’s telephone call, so Jimmy, she realised, had to be

  explained to her. She waited for some one to say something.

  Mr. Pett undertook the introduction.

  “Jimmy, this is my niece, Ann Chester. This is Jimmy

  Crocker, Ann.”

  Jimmy could not admire suffi

  ciently the start of surprise which

  she gave. It was artistic and convincing.

  “Jimmy Crocker!”

  Mr. Pett was on the point of mentioning that this was not the

  fi rst time Ann had met Jimmy, but refrained. After all, that interview

  had happened fi ve years ago. Jimmy had almost certainly forgotten

  all about it. Th

  ere was no use in making him feel unnecessarily awk-

  ward. It was up to Ann. If she wanted to disinter the ancient griev-

  ance, let her. It was no business of his.

  126

  PICADILLY JIM

  “I thought you weren’t coming over!” said Ann.

  “I changed my mind.”

  Mr. Pett, who had been gazing attentively at them, uttered

  an exclamation.

  “I’ve got it! I’ve been trying all this while to think where it was

  that I saw you before. It was on the Atlantic!”

  Ann caught Jimmy’s eye. She was relieved to see that he was not

  disturbed by this sudden development.

  “Did you come over on the Atlantic, Mr. Crocker?” she said.

  “Surely not? We crossed on her ourselves. We should have met.”

  “Don’t call me Mr. Crocker,” said Jimmy. “Call me Jimmy. Your

  mother’s brother’s wife’s sister’s second husband is my father. Blood

  is thicker than water. No, I came over on the Caronia. We docked

  this morning.”

  “Well, there was a fellow just like you on the Atlantic,” per-

  sisted Mr. Pett.

  Mrs. Pett said nothing. She was watching Jimmy with a keen

  and suspicious eye.

  “I suppose I’m a common type,” said Jimmy.

  “You remember the man I mean,” said Mr. Pett, innocently un-

  conscious of the unfriendly thoughts he was encouraging in two of

  his hearers. “He sat two tables away from us at meals. You remember

  him, Nesta?”

  “As I was too unwell to come to meals, I do not.”

  “Why, I thought I saw you once talking to him on deck, Ann.”

  “Really?” said Ann. “I don’t remember any one who looked at

  all like Jimmy.”

  “Well,” said Mr. Pett, puzzled. “It’s very strange. I guess I’m

  wrong.” He looked at his watch. “Well, I’ll have to be getting back

  to the offi

  ce.”

  “I’ll come with you part of the way, uncle Pete,” said Jimmy. “I

  have to go and arrange for my things to be expressed here.”

  “Why not phone to the hotel?” said Mr. Pett. It seemed to Jimmy

  and Ann that he was doing this sort of thing on purpose. “Which

  hotel did you leave them at?”

  “No, I shall have to go there. I have some packing to do.”

  “You will be back to lunch?” said Ann.

  “Th

  anks. I shan’t be gone more than half an hour.”

  127

  P. G. WODEHOUSE

  For a moment after they had gone, Ann relaxed, happy and re-

  lieved. Everything had gone splendidly. Th

  en a shock ran through

  her whole system as Mrs. Pett spoke. She spoke excitedly, in a low-

  ered voice, leaning over to Ann.

  “Ann! Did you notice anything? Did you suspect anything?”

  Ann mastered her emotion with an eff ort.

  “Whatever do you mean, aunt Nesta?”

  “About that young man, who calls himself Jimmy Crocker.”

  Ann clutched the side of the chair.

  “Who calls himself Jimmy Crocker? I don’t understand.”

  Ann tried to laugh. It seemed to her an age before she produced

  any sound at all, and when it came it was quite unlike a laugh.

  “What put that idea into your head? Surely, if he says he is

  Jimmy Crocker, it’s rather absurd to doubt him, isn’t it? How could

  anybody except Jimmy Crocker know that you were anxious to get

  Jimmy Crocker over here? You didn’t tell any one, did you?”

  Th

  is reasoning shook Mrs. Pett a little, but she did not intend to

  abandon a perfectly good suspicion merely because it began to seem

  unreasonable.

  “Th

  ey have their spies everywhere,” she said doggedly.

  “Who have?”

  “Th

  e Secret Service people from other countries. Lord Wis-

  beach was telling me about it yesterday. He said that I ought to sus-

  pect everybody. He said that an attempt might be made on Willie’s

  invention at any moment now.”

  “He was joking.”

  “He was not. I have never seen any one so serious. He said that

  I ought to regard every fresh person who came into the house as a

  possible criminal.”

  “Well, that guy’s fresh enough,” muttered Ogden from the settee.

  Mrs. Pett started.

  “Ogden! I had forgotten that you were there.” She uttered a

  cry of horror, as the fact of his presence started a new train of

  thought. “Why, this man may have come to kidnap you! I never

  thought of that.”

  Ann felt it time to intervene. Mrs. Pett was hovering much

  too near the truth for comfort. “You mustn’t imagine things, aunt

  Nesta. I believe it comes from writing the sort of stories you do.

  Surely, it is impossible for this man to be an impostor. How would

  128

  PICADILLY JIM

  he dare take such a risk? He must know that you could detect him

  at any moment by cabling over to Mrs. Crocker to ask if her step-

  son was really in America.”

 

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