“Makes a fellow feel a bit of an ass, what? I shouldn’t wonder if they usedn’t to stare at you from time to time, too, eh?”
“At the school where I was employed, sir, the young ladies had a regular game which they used to play when a male visitor arrived. They would stare fixedly at him and giggle, and there was a small prize for the one who made him blush first.”
“Oh, no, I say, Jeeves, not really?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’d no idea small girls were such demons.”
“More deadly than the male, sir.”
The guv’nor passed a handkerchief over his brow.
“Well, we’re going to have tea in a few minutes, Jeeves. I expect I shall feel better after tea.”
“We will hope so, sir.”
But I was by no means sanguine.
I had an agreeable tea in the kitchen. The buttered toast was good and the maids nice girls, though with little conversation. The parlourmaid, who joined us towards the end of the meal, after performing her duties in the school dining-room, reported that the guv’nor was sticking it pluckily, but seemed feverish. I went back to the stable-yard, and I was just giving the car another look-over when the small Mainwaring child appeared.
“Oh, I say,” she said, “will you give this to Mr. Wooster when you see him?” She held out the guv’nor’s cigarette-case. “He must have dropped it somewhere. I say,” she proceeded, “it’s an awful lark. He’s going to give a lecture to the school.”
“Indeed, miss?”
“We love it when there are lectures. We sit and stare at the poor dears, and try to make them dry up. There was a man last term who got hiccoughs. Oh, do you think Mr. Wooster will get hiccoughs?”
“We can but hope for the best, miss.”
“It would be such a lark, wouldn’t it?”
“Highly enjoyable, miss.”
“Well, I must be getting back. I want to get a front seat.”
And she scampered off. An engaging child. Full of spirits.
She had hardly gone when there was an agitated noise, and round the corner came the guv’nor. Perturbed. Deeply so.
“Jeeves!”
“Sir?”
“Start the car!”
“Sir?”
“I’m off!”
“Sir?”
The guv’nor danced a few steps.
“Don’t stand there saying ‘Sir?’ I tell you I’m off. Bally off! There’s not a moment to waste. The situation’s desperate. Dash it, Jeeves, do you know what’s happened? The Tomlinson female has just sprung it on me that I’m expected to make a speech to the girls! Got to stand up there in front of the whole dashed collection and talk! I can just see myself! Get that car going, Jeeves, dash it all. A little speed, a little speed!”
“Impossible, I fear, sir. The car is out of order.”
The guv’nor gaped at me. Very glassily he gaped.
“Out of order!”
“Yes, sir. Something is wrong. Trivial, perhaps, but possibly a matter of some little time to repair.” The guv’nor being one of those easy-going young gentlemen who’ll drive a car but never take the trouble to learn anything about its mechanism, I felt justified in becoming technical. “I think it is the differential gear, sir. Either that or the exhaust.”
I’m fond of the guv’nor, and I admit I came very near to melting as I looked at his face. He was staring at me in a sort of dumb despair that would have touched anybody.
“Then I’m sunk! Or”—a slight gleam of hope flickered across his drawn features—“do you think I could sneak out and leg it across country, Jeeves?”
“Too late, I fear, sir.” I indicated with a slight gesture the approaching figure of Miss Tomlinson, who was advancing with a serene determination in his immediate rear.
“Ah, there you are, Mr. Wooster.”
The guv’nor smiled a sickly smile.
“Yes—er—here I am!”
“We are all waiting for you in the large schoolroom.”
“But, I say, look here,” said the guv’nor, “I—I don’t know a bit what to talk about.”
“Why, anything, Mr. Wooster. Anything that comes into your head. Be bright,” said Miss Tomlinson. “Bright and amusing.”
“Oh, bright and amusing?”
“Possibly tell them a few entertaining stories. But, at the same time, do not neglect the graver note. Remember that my girls are on the threshold of life, and will be eager to hear something brave and helpful and stimulating—something which they can remember in after years. But, of course, you know the sort of thing, Mr. Wooster. Come. The young people are waiting.”
I have spoken earlier of resource and the part it plays in the life of a gentleman’s personal gentleman. It is a quality peculiarly necessary if one is to share in scenes not primarily designed for one’s co-operation. So much that is interesting in life goes on apart behind closed doors that your gentleman’s gentleman, if he is not to remain hopelessly behind the march of events, should exercise his wits in order to enable himself to be—if not a spectator—at least an auditor when there is anything of interest toward. I deprecate as both vulgar and infra dig. the practice of listening at keyholes, but without lowering myself to that, I have generally contrived to find a way.
In the present case it was simple. The large schoolroom was situated on the ground floor, with commodious French windows, which, as the weather was clement, remained open throughout the proceedings. By stationing myself behind a pillar on the porch or veranda which adjoined the room, I was enabled to see and hear all. It was an experience which I should be sorry to have missed. The guv’nor indubitably excelled himself.
Mr. Wooster is a young gentleman with practically every desirable quality except one. I do not mean brains, for in an employer brains are not desirable. The quality to which I allude is hard to define, but perhaps I might call it the gift of dealing with the Unusual Situation. In the presence of the Unusual, Mr. Wooster is too prone to smile weakly and allow his eyes to protrude. He lacks Presence. I have often wished that I had the power to bestow upon him some of the savoir-faire of a former employer of mine, Mr. Montague-Todd, the well-known financier, now in the second year of his sentence. I have known men call upon Mr. Todd with the express intention of horsewhipping him and go away half an hour later laughing heartily and smoking one of his cigars. To Mr. Todd it would have been child’s play to speak a few impromptu words to a schoolroom full of young ladies; in fact, before he had finished, he would probably have induced them to invest all their pocket-money in one of his numerous companies; but to the guv’nor it was plainly an ordeal which had knocked all the stuffing out of him right from the start. He gave one look at the young ladies, who were all staring at him in an extremely unwinking manner, blinked, and started to pick feebly at his coat-sleeve. His aspect reminded me of that of a bashful young man who has been persuaded against his better judgment to go on the platform and assist a conjurer and is having rabbits and hard-boiled eggs taken out of the top of his head.
The proceeding opened with a short but graceful speech of introduction from Miss Tomlinson.
“Girls, some of you have already met Mr. Wooster—Mr. Bertram Wooster, and you all, I hope, know him by reputation.” Here the guv’nor gave a hideous, gurgling laugh and, catching Miss Tomlinson’s eye, turned vermilion. Miss Tomlinson resumed.
“He has very kindly consented to say a few words to you before he leaves, and I am sure that you will all give him your very earnest attention. Now, please.”
She gave a spacious gesture with her right hand as she said the last two words, and the guv’nor, under the impression that they were addressed to him, cleared his throat and began to say something. But it appeared that her remark was directed to the young ladies, and was in the nature of a cue or signal, for she had no sooner spoken them than the whole school rose to its feet in a body and burst into a species of chant, of which I am glad to say I can remember the words, though the tune eludes me. The lyric ran as follows:—