Joy in the Morning Read Online Free PDF Page A

to rescue him.
    How to do it was, of course, a problem, and many chaps in my place would, I suppose, have been nonplussed. But my brain was working like a buzz saw this morning, and the two snifters at the Bollinger had put a keen edge on it. By the time I was latch-keying my way into the flat I had placed my finger on the solution. The thing to do, I saw, was to write a strong note to Nobby Hopwood, outlining the situation and urging her to draw Stilton aside and make it quite clear to him what he was up against. Nobby, I reasoned, had known Florence since she was so high, and would consequently be in a position to assemble all the talking points.
    Still, just in case she might have overlooked any of them, I carefully pointed out in my communication all Florence’s defects, considered not only as a prospective bride but as a human being. I put my whole heart into the thing, and it was with an agreeable feeling of duty done and a kindly act accomplished that I took it round the corner and dropped it in the pillar box.
    When I got back, I found Jeeves once more in residence. He had returned from his mission and was fooling about at some domestic task in the dining-room. I gave him a hail, and he floated in.
    ‘Jeeves,’ I said, ‘you remember Mr Cheesewright, who called this morning?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘I ran into him just now, buying an engagement ring. He is betrothed.’
    ‘Indeed, sir?’
    ‘Yes. And do you know who to? Lady F. Craye.’
    ‘Indeed, sir?’
    We exchanged a meaning glance. Or, rather, two meaning glances, I giving him one and he giving me the other. There was no need for words. Jeeves is familiar with every detail of the Wooster-Craye imbroglio, having been constantly at my side right through that critical period in my affairs. As a matter of fact, as I have recorded elsewhere in the archives, it was he who got me out of the thing.
    And what’s so poignant, Jeeves, if that’s the word I want, is that he seems to like it.’
    ‘Indeed, sir?’
    ‘Yes. Rather pleased about it all than otherwise, it struck me. It reminded me of those lines in the poem – “See how the little how-does-it-go turn tumty tiddly push.” Perhaps you remember the passage?’
    ‘“Alas, regardless of their fate, the little victims play,” sir.’
    ‘Quite. Sad, Jeeves.’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘He must be saved from himself, of course, and fortunately I have the situation well in hand. I have taken all the necessary steps, and anticipate a happy and successful issue. And now,’ I said, turning to the other matter on the agenda paper, ‘tell me about Uncle Percy. You saw him?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘Was he in the market for aid and counsel?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘I knew I was right. What was it? Blackmail? Does he want you to pinch damaging correspondence from the peroxided? Has some quick-thinking adventuress got him in her toils?’
    ‘Oh, no, sir. I am sure his lordship’s private life is above reproach.’
    I weighed this in the light of the known facts.
    ‘I’m not so dashed sure about that. It depends what you call above reproach. He once chased me over a measured mile, showing great accuracy with the hunting crop. At a moment, too, when, being half-way through my first cigar, I was in urgent need of quiet and repose. To my mind, a man capable of that would be capable of anything. Well, if it wasn’t blackmail, what was the trouble?’
    ‘His lordship finds himself in a somewhat difficult position, sir.’
    ‘What’s biting him?’
    He did not reply for a space. A wooden expression had crept into his features, and his eyes had taken on the look of cautious reserve which you see in those of parrots, when offered half a banana by a stranger of whose bona fides they are not convinced. It meant that he had come over all discreet, as he sometimes does, and I hastened to assure him that he might speak freely.
    ‘You know me, Jeeves. The silent tomb.’
    ‘The matter is highly confidential, sir. It should